Organized for Murder (23 page)

They sat tucked away in a corner table, reveling in the warmth and cheerful views of the surrounding windows. The sun, beaming down from the day's gorgeous blue sky, offered a solar massage across Kate's back. Between the radiating heat and Saree's
soup d'jour,
perfect beef-barley comfort food in a bowl, Kate's taut muscles released the morning's tension.

Book-buying patrons swamped the store during the noon hour, and the women were nearly finished before Saree could break free to stop at the table. Dressed in a vibrant magenta sheath, with a necklace of hammered gold medallions draped around her neck, the bookseller could almost compete with the day's outdoor brilliance. When she smiled, on the other hand, there was no contest.

"Well, chickies, my food is good today, no?" Saree planted fists on her narrow hips, gold bangles cascading down each arm in chime-like tones.

"The food is wonderful." Meg loaded her fork with egg and avocado. "Exactly what we needed."

Saree lifted a suspicious eyebrow at Kate's order, pointing with a graceful. "This soup…" She wiggled a scarlet-nailed forefinger. "…most unlike you, chickie. You are adventurous eater, always. Do you have troubles this beautiful mornin'?"

Kate shook her head, smiling. "No one can hide anything from you, can they, Saree?"

"Ah, but masters teach me." Saree half-closed her dark eyes. "For this shop I buy Sherlock Holmes, Agatha Christie. I read very close and follow their methods. Human behavior. Spot sameness in people, note differences to individuals."

"Excellent observation." Meg sipped her iced plum tea. "If this job gets any crazier, we might need to hire you as a consultant."

A crease formed between Saree's eyebrows, and she turned back to Kate. "Job? Another job givin' you worries?"

Kate shook her head. "No, actually this is an offshoot of the original Nethercutt commission. Meg and I are inventorying the contents of the mansion to fulfill the terms of the will. Well, Meg and I and Valerie James that is."

"Valerie James? You work with her? She is…" Saree looked wildly around, as if hoping the right word would come to her through the air. "She is, she is
conceited
, and, and…" Throwing her hands in the air with an elegant gesture, she signaled defeat.

"You understand why I needed comfort food today." Kate grinned. "Things should be looking up, though. Valerie stormed off the job this morning."

"That is good, chickies." Saree walked to the counter and removed two snicker doodles from the cookie display. She returned to their table and set a cookie-laden napkin beside each of the partners. "Here, eat. Rejoice that witchy woman gone."

Meg touched the top of her cookie with one finger and licked off the sugar and cinnamon, adding, "Well, one anyway. We still have Sophia."

Saree tsk-tsked, and placed a hand on Kate's shoulder. "But you will still speak here on spring organizin' tomorrow night, yes? The books, they are stacked in back, the ones we discussed. And I have brand new line, too, sent from good publisher. You are not too busy—"

"Don't worry, I'm all ready. I've even put together a little takeaway paper to give people ideas and reading lists after they leave tomorrow night."

"What about the newsletter thing you've been tossing around?" Meg asked.

"Newsletter?" Saree echoed.

Kate waved the idea away. "Oh, just an idea I dreamed up to attract a little business. I thought about doing a quarterly newsletter, using the seasons to keep people on track. Maybe get them to consider hiring me to help organize their homes or businesses. Just to keep my name in front of the public. But I'd have to find some place to put the newsletters—"

"Why not here? My counter is wide, and stack should not take big space." The shop owner's face lit up again as a new idea came to her. "Oh, the home center. They should leap for your excellent information."

"I don't know about excellent—"

Meg made a pshaw sound. "Don't be modest, Katie. Your newsletter would be great. Plus, Saree's right, home centers would be a perfect compliment to your ideas and offer all the organizing shelves and storage options people need."

A book-laden line of customers formed at the cash register. Saree excused herself with a quick smile and wave. "
A demain,
" she called over her shoulder.

Kate smiled. "Until tomorrow."

*

Valerie returned about three, again wearing her cat-and-the-cream smirk.

"Nice of you to rejoin the party," Meg said, looking up from her book cataloguing. "Do you intend to work or just make sure the knives in our backs are buried to the hilt?"

"Listen, Meg Berman, I don't have to take any of your—"

"Stop it you two," Kate said. No way she wanted to lose the part-time babysitter she and Meg counted on the most. "I assume you've spoken with Sophia and she's pushed you back into this project, offering
carte blanche
to keep us in our places. Start cataloguing the bookshelves with Meg."

The files seemed to multiply in the drawers, and Kate stacked another load into the box. Beyond the coin collection Sophia withdrew earlier, the desk held a treasure trove of items. The most interesting discovery lay tucked in the far back of the middle drawer: a satin-covered journal. Kate smiled as she opened the cover and recognized Amelia's distinctive handwriting. She set it on the blotter to go in on top of the box, and left that drawer for last as well.

By the time the desk was nearly empty and the box equally full, the only task left was the center drawer. All of the toys and the rest of the room's floor inventory was documented in the computer file. Meg and Valerie were on the final bookcase. Kate pulled out the wide mahogany middle drawer.

"When we're finished in here, I'd like to move on to the living room next." Kate kept her head down, her attention focused on the jumbled contents. A bit of white caught her eye, back where the journal had been, and she withdrew a scrap of paper that said "G. Cay." and listed a long string of numbers. It may have been a note Amelia kept in the journal or just a scrap hidden under the book, but to Kate it looked suspiciously like reference to some kind of account.

Regardless, it's up to Walker to figure out whether the note is important or trash.

She slipped it into the journal for safekeeping. Out of habit, she made a mental list as she worked, but she itched to grab one of the cloisonné pens from the big middle drawer and jot thoughts down on one of the desk's many stylized notepads. An upward glance revealed Meg and Valerie working in a simmering cease-fire manner. All afternoon, Meg had listed book titles on a pad, rather than having to constantly stop and start to enter them into the laptop. Valerie followed her example with another pad. Balanced at the top of the library ladder, the redhead recorded book titles and edition information from the shelf near the ceiling. The truant decorator did likewise at the bottom, her cell phone on the floor beside her. But by the set of their shoulders, Kate knew another outburst could come at any moment.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, her hand hovered over a jewel-like pen for one instant then grabbed a pink toned one and a pad of scratch paper. She tamped down her guilt by reminding herself she wasn't stealing the pen, simply making notes to solve Amelia's murder. The late woman would not only approve but would applaud Kate. She scribbled quickly as the pair's backs were turned.

What is Sophia's true purpose for wedging Valerie into this inventory job, and what did she say to convince Valerie (or order her) to come back after this morning's temper tantrum?

Messing with Kate's business and being a thorn in Meg and her respective sides would tickle Ms. James to no end, but the big question was still what did Sophia hope to accomplish? Kate resented the fact Sophia excelled at pushing her buttons and had insinuated Valerie into her daily life. Not to mention the whole lingering jealousy thing about Sophia and Keith she couldn't get out of her mind.

But most of all, the woman's a bitch.

Kate moved on to the next sibling and scribbled out her next thought.

Who did Bill decide he needed to go see when the shelter guys came, or was there even an appointment at all? Was he really trying to catch up with the shelter guys? If so, why?

She wrote Thomas's name, then added "father?" beside it, wondering if he was privy to the tragic family history and whether he blamed Amelia for any part of his dad's suicide. But she didn't want to write the question, and not just because it all seemed too sordid and soap opera-y. No, Thomas, somehow, seemed as much a victim in this family of vipers as was the murdered Amelia, and Kate wanted to minimize his place in her free-writing, suspect-musing exercise. Danny, was a different story.

What did Danny discuss with Gabriella Cavannah-Wicker, and did the Natalie 2K he had scrawled on his hand refer to Gabriella's granddaughter?

"Are you goofing off?" Valerie's voice cracked like a shot, and Kate guiltily stuffed the page into the pocket of her jacket.

"Of course not," she said. When Meg raised an eyebrow, Kate didn't doubt the blush she felt was much too apparent. She turned to brisk action and pulled out the center drawer to dump the rest of the contents into the box, then grabbed Amelia's journal from the desktop and placed it atop everything before she closed the flaps. Hefting the bulky cardboard container, she shuffled to the door, saying, "I was just making a list of what I need to bring tomorrow. After I take this out to the van, I'll come back and help you finish, and we can leave."

"What's in the box?" Valerie stood and blocked her way.

"You watched what I was doing. It's all papers and files from the desk. I'm taking them to the lawyer's office." Promising herself not to let Valerie rattle her again, she countered with, "If you'd stuck around earlier you would have heard me say so."

"I'm not sure Sophia would want you to—"

That did it. The box fell to the floor in a resounding thump, and Kate felt her face grow red again but this time with anger. "I don't give a
damn
what Sophia wants. And I don't care—"

Meg climbed down from the ladder as Valerie said, "Don't go fooling yourself about being the boss here, Kate McKenzie. I'll have you know Sophia—"

"Sophia, Sophia, Sophia," Kate cried. "If you want to be her little puppet—"

"Puppet! I am n—"

"Ladies!" Meg got their attention, and held up the cell phone that had been lying on the floor. "Speaking of Sophia, I believe this text message is from her."

"Give me my phone." Valerie snatched it out of Meg's hand and smiled as she read the small screen. "Anything you have to say to Sophia, I guess you can tell her yourself. She wants to see you immediately."

Valerie scrolled the text back to the top of the screen and handed the phone to Kate, who read, "TELL THAT IDIOT MCKENZIE WOMAN TO GET OVER HERE NOW, OR SHE AND HER HUSBAND WILL BE JOB HUNTING TOGETHER."

*

Kate slammed the box into the back of the van. How dare that witch order her around. And threaten Keith's job to boot. She had half a mind not to go, let Sophia simmer in her own juices, but that really wasn't an option. Ms. Hoity-Toity needed to be shown what happened when she sent word through her minion for Kate McKenzie to come at once and stand court.

"Wait, Katie, calm down," Meg continued the placating routine she'd begun back in the study.
"This is too much. I'm having it out with witchy-woman." She pulled the keys from her tote bag.

"At least let me drive."

"Oh, no." She climbed into the driver's seat. "I'm getting there of my own volition. I don't want her to think I'm so upset I need someone to drive me."

"But you are too upset." Meg piled in on the passenger side. "You might—"

"Wait for me." Valerie ran up and slid open the side door, climbing into the backseat.

"Get out." Kate turned in her seat. "You can get the blow-by-blow from Sophia later."

Rolling her eyes, Valerie said, "I'm not coming along to see you publicly humiliated. I'm coming to help."

"Help what? Put me in my place?"

"No." Valerie's voice took on an overly patient tone. "To help you put your world back together when you shoot your mouth off at Sophia. The best thing you could do is not go. You're going to blow everything. But since that doesn't seem to be an option, someone needs to be there to work on Sophia in your favor after all is said and done."

Kate felt her head spinning. "You want me to believe your only aim in tagging along is to help me?"

"Come on," Meg said. "I've heard a lot of crap in my life, but this—"

"Of course, I'm going to help," Valerie interrupted, glaring. "We haven't finished inventorying this house yet, and it's important to my business to know everything inside."

"Oh, well," Meg replied wryly. "As long as your intentions are pure."

The exchange was enough to cut some of the strain for Kate, and she drove off at a normal speed. The closer they got to the White residence, the tighter the tension coiled between her shoulder blades. They pulled up at the curb of the Georgian mansion, and she jumped out, almost as if ejected from a rocket seat, and left the keys in the ignition.

"Kate, aren't you going to lock up?" Meg called.

"This won't take long."

"I'll do it," Meg said. "Wait for me. Please, Katie."

Kate never slowed her step. A split second later, she heard the back door slide as Valerie climbed out, followed by a crash and "Damn," and she recognized the sound of a dumped purse, the contents pinging and rolling on the asphalt.

Valerie's purse spill worked in Kate's favor. She had little need for an entourage when confronting Sophia.

At the heavy oaken door, she pressed the doorbell again and again. No answer.

"Okay, this rips it, Sophia!" It wasn't enough the harpy ordered her there, but ignoring her at the door and making sure her domestic help followed suit simply ramped things up to a level Kate could not ignore. She fisted her left hand and pounded on the heavy wooden door. To her surprise it slowly swung open.