Spin a Wicked Web (10 page)

Irene pressed her lips together, as if to keep from saying something. Jake nodded his approval.

"That would be nice," Ruth said with a slight look of triumph
on her face. "Now, what do we do about the bad publicity?"

No one responded. Sighing inwardly, I stepped up again. "I've
got to say, I don't think it's a problem for business. People are
weird, and they'll want to see where the murder happened. We
need to change the lock on the doors and implement some rules
about being safe when working there, but for the most part, I bet
we get more traffic than ever."

Jake leaned his rather squarish chin on a meaty fist. Eyeing his
spatulate digits, I reflected that it was a good thing he hadn't chosen gynecology as a specialty. "You may be right," he said.

We finished our coffee drinks and shuffled out, squinting, to the
hot, bright street. Through the window I saw Luce reach for the
phone, but there wasn't anything we'd said that was a big secret.

Go for it, girl. Gossip on.

"I thought you said you weren't going to investigate Ariel's murder," Meghan said, tying up an heirloom tomato plant with strips
cut from old pantyhose.

I looked up from where I was sowing another section of slowbolt cilantro. "Oh, for heaven's sake. I'm not investigating anything.
Only checking with her roommate to find out where to send her
art."

"Sure you are." She walked over to the large wicker basket on
the ground between us. "The zucchini plants are going nuts. I'm
going to strip some of the blossoms."

Yum. I'd been waiting for a chance to add squash blossoms to a
light stir-fry, or stuff them with fresh mozzarella and chopped
pumpkin seeds, dust them with chipotle chili powder and flour
and fry them all golden and crispy.

Finished with the cilantro, I began harvesting the outer leaves of
the lettuce. "We have a ton of this red-leaf. How about wilted lettuce
and stuffed squash blossoms with some grilled lamb tonight?"

"Now you're talking," Meghan said. "You should invite Barr
over.

I sat back on my heels and let my fingers sift through the dirt at
my feet. "Oh, all right."

It felt like Meghan was playing matchmaker, which was pretty
weird since I'd dated the man in question for several months already.

She bent over the tumbling vines. "Do you think she did it?"

"Who?"

Her look told me to stop being stupid. "Chris."

"I don't know. I doubt it. It sounds like she has an alibi."

"So you went over there today?"

I nodded. "I told you Barr asked me to keep my finger on the
pulse of the CRAG crowd."

"I knew you'd get involved one way or another." She finished
tying up another tomato plant and stood upright, stretching her
back. "At least you have permission from the police this time."

Well, maybe not all the police. Robin would pop a vein if she
knew Barr had asked for my help.

"I'm going to run over and talk to Ariel's roommate now, while
I'm thinking about it;" I said.

One side of Meghan's mouth turned up. "Okay. See you when
you get back"

As I guided my little Toyota pickup down the street toward the address Ruth had given me, I pondered the exchange at Beans R Us.
Irene-mousy little Irene-had been downright nasty at times. It
was obvious she'd disliked Ariel intensely. Ruth had been uncharacteristically taciturn. Jake, on the other hand, had been vociferously insistent that Ariel's art was well taken care of. He seemed
quite upset by her death. Oh, don't get me wrong; her murder was
horrible. It was just that something about his reaction made me
think it was a little more personal for him than even, for example,
me-the woman who had actually found her body.

Lordy, what was the deal with the CRAG members? They were
like a dysfunctional family. I bet they had a few dirty little secrets
hidden away, too.

Blue and red lights flashed in my rearview mirror: a silver Impala, the "undercover" prowler of the Cadyville police department.
At least Barr had shown a little subtlety and kept the siren off.

The siren chirped.

Nice.

I wondered what he'd do if I didn't stop. Arrest me?

The siren chirped again.

Perhaps not the best time to find out. I turned onto a residential street and pulled over.

Barr got out. I stayed where I was and rolled down the window.
Our conversation on the phone the night before had been short
and slightly uncomfortable. When he stopped beside me, I silently
offered my license and registration.

He ignored it. "Are you still mad at me?"

Hmmm. "I don't think so. Why, has something else happened?"

"I talked to my mother," he said.

I raised my eyebrows.

"She said Hannah took a week off. My brother, clever bear that
he is, told her about the money from my uncle." He rolled his eyes.
"Randall, who's seven years younger than I am, by the way, has a bit
of a crush on Hannah. Mom thinks he was trying to impress her."

"So she's here for the whole week?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No. I called her over at Horse Acres. Sent
her packing in no uncertain terms."

Wow. "Really?"

"Really."

"That seems kind of mean," I said.

He grinned. "I can call her back and tell her to stay. We could
all go out for dinner, if you'd like."

"Nah. That's okay."

"Thought you might say that," he said.

"Listen," I said. "I'm on my way to talk to Ariel's roommate
about where to send her CRAG art. Do you know about Ariel's
brother?"

He nodded. "His address was in her things."

Of course. I knew he and Robin would've already gone to Ariel's apartment, but I felt a little deflated anyway.

"His last name isn't Skylark?"

"Nope. Kaminski."

"Ruth said Ariel changed her name," I said.

"Apparently so."

" why?

He lifted a shoulder. "She liked the sound of Skylark better
than Kaminski."

"Did you learn anything else interesting?" I asked, a note of
frustration creeping in.

"From the roommate? Not much." He looked regretful. "Robin,
well..."

Ah.

"Come over for dinner tonight," I said. "We're having lamb."

His eyes widened. "Grilled?"

"Of course."

"Count me in."

"See you then." I rolled up my window.

He placed his right hand against it, the pattern of his palm
pressed against the glass. With one finger, I traced his love line. My
eyes lifted and met his. I bit my lip.

We both smiled.

ARIEL HAD LIVED IN an apartment on the second floor of a lone
twelve-plex on the corner of Maple and Pine. Someone had purchased and rehabbed the old building and painted it a sumptuous
apricot with green and maroon trim. Planter boxes lining the tiny
balcony railings dripped purple verbena, blood-red geraniums
and lobelia in deep rich shades of sapphire. A rack in front supported a row of bikes. To the right, an expanse of asphalt hosted a
series of compact and economy cars, most of them sporting parking stickers from the neighboring college. These were primarily
digs for students, and nice digs at that.

I climbed the stairs, my sandals scuffing on the wooden steps,
and rapped on the metal door with my knuckles. Rustling sounds
came from inside, and then slowly the door opened.

"Yes?" A tall woman in her early twenties grinned down at me.
Her hair was blue black, the kind that has to come out of a bottle,
and it fell unfettered to a pair of impressive-and unharnessedbreasts. She was so tall I found myself staring straight at them. My face grew hot as I realized what I was doing, and I craned my neck
up to look into a wide pale face with amused green eyes.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Sophie Mae Reynolds. I'm a member of the
artist's co-op Ariel belonged to."

The smile faded. "Oh"

"She lived here, didn't she?"

The woman nodded.

"I'm sorry. You must be pretty shaken up by what happened."

"Yeah. I mean, well ... yeah." She stepped back and held the
door open. "I'm sorry. Please, come in."

I stepped into an herbal oasis. There were potted plants everywhere, at least fifty of them, clustered around every window, tucked
into corners and onto bookshelves under grow lights, lining the
kitchen counters. Every one of them had some kind of culinary or
medical application, and sometimes both. There were lavender and
rosemary, sage, oregano, and a variety of thymes. Mints were interspersed with feverfew, calendula, scented geraniums, and chamomile.

"Wow," I said. "This is amazing. Is that borage?"

She nodded, obviously pleased. "I grew it from seed. Would
you like something to drink? I have some iced tea."

"That would be great, thanks."

I wandered around the little apartment in wonder. All the plants
were incredibly healthy, not a yellow leaf nor leggy one among them,
despite being crammed into the tiny living space.

She returned and handed me a sea-green concoction that smelled
of mint. "I'm studying horticulture."

"Well, you've got the green thumb for it." I sipped from the tall
glass, condensation already forming along its sides. Mint and a myriad of other herbal infusions. "This tea is lovely, um ... I'm
afraid I don't know your name. We only knew that Ariel lived here
and that she had a roommate."

"Oh! I'm Daphne. Daphne Sparks."

"Nice to meet you. Were you and Ariel close?"

She hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. "Not really. We
weren't even friends. I found the apartment, but couldn't afford it
by myself, so I advertised for someone to share it with me. That was
almost a year ago. Ariel answered the ad, and at first I thought she'd
make a good roommate."

"At first?"

She blinked and looked away. "It doesn't do any good to talk
bad about her now."

"No, you're right. Listen, the reason I'm here is because there's
a bunch of her art over at the co-op, and we don't know who to
give it to."
"

I don't want it."

I laughed, then quickly covered my mouth.

Her lips twisted in wry response. "Sorry. I guess it just isn't my
"
style."

I understand."

"But you know, I think she had potential, and if she'd been
willing to learn more, Ariel might've been pretty good. That's how
I met her. She was going to school, like me, only she was in the art
department."
"

I didn't know that."

"She dropped out. Too many classes she thought were boring,
too much homework," Daphne said.

"Did she have a job?"

A half shrug. "She was a part-time hostess at The Turning
Point."

"Hard to make a living doing that, even if it is the fanciest restaurant in town," I said.

Daphne snorted. "She didn't. Make a living, that is. She owes
me almost two grand." She looked at the floor. "Or owed me, I
guess.