Dying for a Change (18 page)

“
Don’t let it get to you, Ellen. No one really thinks you killed anyone, and most of the married women have been trying to get Dan remarried since he came back to town. The single ones, well, a few of them have taken up that project as well. So far, no one’s been very successful. Remember, this is a small town. Tongues will wag. Sometimes pleasantly, sometimes not.”

Before I could say anything, Ruthie was back, setting a bowl of soup down in front of each of us.

“
Ellen, I’ll bet you haven’t eaten a thing all day and that’s a sure fire way to get sick.”

At least she doesn’t think I’m a mass murderer, I thought as I looked down at the soup. I was so upset I was sure I couldn’t swallow a mouthful, but the aroma of broccoli and cheese met my empty stomach, reminding me that all I’d had for breakfast was coffee. Lots of coffee. Ruthie was right. It would be a shame to get sick.

“
I’m going to take my break now, before this place fills up.” Ruthie pulled over a chair, set the coffee pot in the middle of the table, and produced a mug from somewhere.

“
Is what we’re hearin’ really true, Ellen? Dottie was shot, in her very own kitchen?”

Ruthie made it sound like Dottie dying in her kitchen was the worst indignity of all. I couldn’t answer, my mouth was full, but I nodded.

Ruthie’s voice got a little shrill. “What’s happening in this town? We got some kind of maniac loose?” She looked imploringly at Pat, as though for reassurance, then back at me.

“
What does Dan think?” Pat asked. “Does he have any ideas?”

“
Dan’s got ideas, all right.” I answered with maybe a trace of anger as I finished the last spoonful of soup and pushed the empty bowl away. “The trouble is, they’re all wrong.”

“
What do you mean?” Pat had barely touched her own soup. “Does he think he knows who killed Dottie? Is it the same person who killed Hank? Is it someone we know?” There was dread in her voice.

“
He took Tom Chambers in for questioning.”

Shock and dismay showed clearly in both faces.

“
No,” Ruthie finally said. “Dan can’t think Tom would do such a thing. Why, that boy grew up in this town. We’ve known him since he was a baby. No way it’s him.” Ruthie’s voice got more agitated as she spoke. She’d picked up the coffee pot to refill our cups and now waved it over the table. I was afraid we were all about to be baptized.

Pat reached over and rescued the pot, and us. “Why? Why Tom? I can’t believe he’d harm Dottie. Especially like that.” She had a sick look on her face.

“
What kind of harebrained reason does Dan Dunham have for suspecting him, anyway?” demanded Ruthie.

“
I’ll tell you the whole story.” I did, ending with the missing gun.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Ruthie pushed back her chair, picked up the coffee pot, turned and walked away. She said something I couldn’t quite hear, but it sounded a lot like “shit.”

We silently watched her go. Pat looked down at her watch, sighed, and said, almost apologetically, “I’ve got to go. I work part time in my husband’s office and I’m due there now. Look, all we’re doing going over and over this is giving ourselves ulcers. We’re going to have to trust the police to come up with the right answers, no matter how much we don’t like them.”

She got up, paused, and went on. “Are you coming to The Little Playhouse meeting tomorrow night? At least it will give you something new to think about. Lord knows you could use some distracting about now, and let me assure you, some of our members are very distracting.”

She laughed a little ruefully. I laughed also, and agreed to come. Pat said she’d call me, left some change on the table, and hurried out. I sat for another moment, finished my coffee, and took another look around. Tables were rapidly filling. The lunch hour had begun.

Suddenly I felt lost. I didn’t want to go back to the office. I wasn’t in the mood to take messages, and I didn’t want to answer anyone’s questions about Hank or Dottie. I especially didn’t want to be alone with Ray. The thought of shopping made me shudder, especially as the Emporium was the only choice. The library, my old refuge? No. Not today. I was much too restless to concentrate on a book. So, I decided to do what any sensible woman would do. I’d go home, change into my jeans, and prepare my sadly overdue sweet pea bed.

I was changed and ready to find my shovel when I thought of Aunt Mary. I hadn’t called her. She was bound to be upset about Dottie, and even more that she hadn’t heard from me.

The phone rang several times. I was beginning to get worried when she picked it up.

“
You sound out of breath. What are you doing?”

“
Pruning the rose bushes. Attacking something with the loppers seemed like a good idea. Are you all right?”

The last thing those rose bushes needed was any more pruning, but I understood her feeling. “Depressed, upset, scared but hanging in there.” I brought her up to date on everything that had happened, last night and this morning. Naturally, she knew most of it.

“
You know, Ellen,” she said when I was finished. “The worst part is that the murderer has to be someone we know. There was some link between Dottie and Hank, and I don’t for one minute believe it was sex. When we understand that link, we’ll know who’s responsible for all this.”

“
Then you still don’t think it was Tom, in spite of all Dan’s evidence?”

She snorted. “Of course not. Do you?”

“
No,” I said slowly, “I don’t, and I’m not convinced Dan does either. You’re right, though, about Hank and Dottie.”

“
Dan needs to look harder at what was going on between them. You tell him I said so.”

Why did she assume I’d see Dan before she would, I wondered, as I headed for the back yard. I probably wouldn’t see him for days. My mind filled with thoughts of Ray, as I turned over dirt. He had a motive for both deaths. At least, it seemed he might if Hank really had some kind of evidence that could put Ray’s license at risk. Then there was Benjamin. I thought about him as I dragged fertilizer sacks out of the garage. He had the best reason to kill Hank. Protecting his store was a huge motive, but how did Dottie fit in? Could Benjamin be trying to sabotage the partnership that Sharon put together? If Stop N Shop couldn’t buy the land, they couldn’t come. Benjamin had been pretty sure that with Hank dead the store wouldn’t be built, and he’d been bothered by Dottie’s comments at the Sawyer house. How did that fit? I thought of ways while jabbing seeds in the ground. Could Benjamin be talking to the old partners, or the new ones, giving them false information of some kind, trying to talk them into not selling right away? Maybe Hank and Dottie suspected, and were trying to stop him.

I absently covered over the last of the seeds and stood up, my mind still on Benjamin, when the phone rang. I ran for the house, wiping my muddy hands on my jeans. It was Dan.

“
What are you doing?”

“
Playing in the mud.”

There was a brief silence. “What?”

“
Never mind. Why?”

“
I thought I’d take you to dinner. If, of course, you aren’t already doing something.

“
No, I’m not. And I could use some company.” I sighed. “I don’t want to get dressed up. How do you feel about take out Chinese?”

“
This is Santa Louisa. No one gets dressed up. But I like it. Do you have wine, or shall I bring some?”

I laughed. “I have some. Bring tea bags and egg roll. I’ll lay the fire, but you have to poke it.”

“
It’s a deal,” Dan said. “See you about six thirty, little white cartons in hand.”

I found myself humming as I headed for the bathroom to shower and change. Before I could get out of the kitchen, the phone rang again. This time it was Alice Ives.

“
Ellen, dear, I wondered if tomorrow would be a good time for you to come over. I do think we should get started on whatever it is you people do. I’m sure it must be very complicated and..”

Alice, of course. My first listing appointment and I’d forgotten all about her. The fact that the events of the last few days had been somewhat distracting was no excuse. It took me a few minutes to stem the tide, but I finally did, and we settled on two o’clock the next afternoon. Then Alice said, “I heard about Dottie Fielding. That was the most terrible thing. Mildred told me you found her. That’s not true, is it, dear? Oh, how horrible for you. Now that I think of it, there will be a service, won’t there, and I think Mildred said Saturday morning. You’ll want to go, and I will too, so maybe...”

I had no choice but to interrupt her again. “Alice, how about Sunday, early afternoon. One o’clock? I’ll have everything with me, and we’ll get it done then.”

Hearing what I took for agreement, I firmly ended the conversation and hung up, smiling and feeling a little breathless. I wondered if Alice had that effect on everyone. I started upstairs again, but Alice’s call reminded me. Real Estate. Sharon. Mr. Marburger and their appointment. Had the answering service reached her? I turned back into the kitchen and dialed her number. It rang and rang. No answer, no machine. I shrugged and headed upstairs. This time I made the shower, and just in time. My hair was barely dry when the back door opened and a voice yelled out, “Where are you?”

Wonderful smells wafted from the big brown bag Dan placed on the chopping block. He was rummaging in a drawer, a bottle of local Sauvignon Blanc in his hand.

“
If you’re looking for an opener, that’s the wrong drawer.” I pointed to the correct one. He grinned at me, found the opener, expertly removed the cork, and took two glasses down from the rack.

“
Hi. You look kind of damp.”

I sighed. That’s exactly what he would have said when he was twelve and I was ten. But then, that’s the kind of friendship we had. Wasn’t it?

“
Might rain.” Dan handed me a glass. “Clouds are coming in and it’s not nearly so cold. Hey, get off there.” He picked up Jake, who had been investigating the possibilities of the brown sack, and set him on the floor. Jake walked off, legs stiff, whiskers quivering, toward the living room, pretending neither of us existed.

I laughed. “You ruffled his dignity. You’ll have to give him your shrimp or he won’t forgive you.”

“
He gets leftovers.” Dan opened cupboards until he found the ones with the plates. “How did you know I got shrimp? Where do you keep the napkins?”

“
You always got shrimp. You were the only kid on the block who liked it. The napkins are right behind you.”

Dan pulled white cartons from the sack, rummaged through my silverware drawer, came up with two large serving spoons, and started dishing food out onto plates. He stole a look at me and smiled. “So you remembered that?”

I nodded and smiled back

“
You know, Ellie, this place looks the same, yet different. Your doing? Potstickers?”

“
Yes.” I said. “To both. Mother took all her things with her to Scottsdale, which was fine with me. I moved my stuff in, and everything took on a whole different look. I still have a lot packed away, I haven’t really made up my mind what I’m going to do, but I hate living out of boxes, so...” I waved my hand at the kitchen. It did look nice. So did the living room. The only things I had purchased were the crisp white tie backs on the kitchen windows. Everything else I had brought from my life in Southern California. For some reason, all my possessions seemed much more at home in this old house.

“
I thought you were buying this house from your folks. I didn’t realize you might not stay here. Where would you go?” He handed me a full plate, juggled his own along with his glass and the wine bottle, and started for the living room. He set everything down on the coffee table, looked meaningfully at the fireplace, which didn’t contain a fire, then started filling it with wood. I sat on the sofa, sipped my wine, and watched him. He had it roaring before I answered him.

“
I don’t know that I’ll go anywhere. Maybe I’ll love it here, love selling real estate, and never want to leave.” I was feeling so peaceful, the fire, wine, Chinese food, my old friend Dan, I couldn’t imagine wanting to be any place else. Yet, you never know. “I made a deal with my folks to rent this house for a year. Then we’ll see if they like Scottsdale, and if I like living here.”

Dan looked at me with an unreadable expression. “You’re probably right. You shouldn’t take change too fast.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, so instead I asked, “Where do you live?”

“
I’m renting a condo out by the golf course.”

“
For some reason, I see you owning an old house around here someplace.

“
I guess I didn’t want to make that kind of commitment, it was too soon. But lately, I’ve been thinking about it.”

“
Oh.” I wondered where the conversation was headed. I finished the last of my fried rice, keeping out a bite of pork. “Are you going to give that little bit of shrimp to Jake?”

He laughed. “If I want to get back in his good graces, I guess I’d better. Will he come down for my whistle?”

The cat sat on his favorite bookshelf, pretending not to watch us eat. Dan whistled. Jake sailed down on the back of the sofa on his way to the coffee table.

“
No. Not off my plates. In his bowl.”

I gathered up the empty plates and glasses, Dan picked up Jake, and we all headed for the kitchen.