Spin a Wicked Web (11 page)

Not exactly peanuts. I took a drink of cold tea.

She continued. "Ariel kept saying she was going to go back to
school, then get a really good job. But really? She was determined
to meet a rich guy who'd want to marry her."

"How was that working out?" I asked.

"Lots of dates, lots of overnighters she'd bring here. Not a lot
of marriage proposals from what I heard. Probably didn't help that
she had a thing for men who were already married." She looked at
the floor. I could tell she felt bad talking about Ariel, even though
she'd obviously taken advantage of Daphne. "She was also hoping
her art would take off and support her. Being accepted into the coop was the first step in proving to the art world that she had real
talent, she said."

The Cadyville Regional Artists' Co-op? Related in any way
shape or form to the "art world"? I almost snorted. Instead, I asked,
"Did she have any particular boyfriends?"

A shrug. "She was gone a lot. I was gone a lot. When we were
both here we got so we avoided each other"

"She had an affair with the husband of a friend of mine. It caused
a lot of pain," I said. Well, Barr had said to gossip, hadn't he?

We'd been standing as we talked, and now Daphne sat down on
the overstuffed sofa. I moved to a window box and ran my fingers through the thick, gray-green leaves of a French lavender in bloom.
The intense fragrance curled around me like a hug.

"Maybe your friend is the one who called," Daphne said.

I turned. "Called here?"

She nodded. "I answered. She sounded furious."

Chris hadn't mentioned calling Ariel, but that didn't mean she
hadn't. And if she had, it was a sure bet she'd sound furious.

"Did she tell you her name?" I asked.

"Huh-uh. She told me to stay away from her husband, then
hung up on me after I said I was Ariel's roommate."

"It must have happened quite awhile ago," I prompted.

"Nope. Just last week"

I thought about asking her what day, but that seemed to be
pushing it. She already looked uncomfortable talking about Ariel's affairs as it was. Heck, between the phone calls and bringing
men home all the time, I was surprised Daphne hadn't killed
Ariel herself.

Of course, I couldn't know for sure she hadn't.

I fingered a tiny rosemary formed into a spiral topiary. "This is
exquisite."

She gazed fondly at the little plant as if it were a child. "Thank
you.

"How long had you and Ariel lived together?"

"Almost a year. The lease is coming up, and either she was
going or I was, or both."

"You'd already talked about it?"

"Not really. Ariel wasn't the easiest person to talk to, so I kept
putting it off."

"Not easy to talk to," I repeated.

She shook her head. "Kind of... volatile. Hard to reason with if
things weren't going her way."

I finished my tea. "Thanks for this. I'll just put the glass in the
kitchen, and get out of your hair."

"You're welcome." She stood.

The kitchen counter served as a half-wall separating it from the
living room. More plants spilled over the window sill.

"About the art: did Ariel have any family?" I asked over my
shoulder as I put my glass in the pristine sink. "I heard about a
brother. Maybe he can tell me what to do with it."

"Yeah. He lives up north. His name is Rocky Kaminski. I don't
know the address or the phone number, though. The police were
here earlier today, and they took her address book."

I walked back into the living room. "Did they take anything
else?"

Another shrug. "Some paperwork. They may've taken some
things from her room; I didn't go in there with them. They just told
me not to get rid of the rest of her stuff until they call me. I sure
hope it's soon, because I have to find someone to share expenses
right away if I'm going to stay here." She walked toward the door.

I followed. "Do you mind if I ask how her bill with you got so
high?"

Daphne fidgeted with a fingernail. "It's kind of embarrassing,
actually. It happened bit by bit, falling behind on this bill, and then
that one. And she always had a good reason, a story about how she
couldn't pay me right then, but the money was on the way. And
she did come through with money sometimes. Just not all of it."

Ariel sounded like the roommate from hell.

"Good luck," I said. "If I hear of anyone who'd be interested,
I'll send them your way."

"Hey, thanks. I appreciate that."

Back in the cab of my truck, I thought about the address book.
Barr and/or Robin Lane would be contacting Ariel's brother. Well,
of course they would; he was her next of kin. But I'd better be
careful not to appear to Robin as if I was trying to interfere with
her investigation. Maybe it'd be better to have one of the other coop members contact Rocky Kaminski about taking Ariel's art.

But who? Irene wouldn't do it. Jake probably shouldn't do it.
And Ruth didn't even like to drive outside of town.

That was when I realized I wasn't thinking about calling Rocky
Kaminski at all. I was planning a trip to La Conner.

I didn't want to give the task of following up with Ariel's
brother to anyone else. I wanted to go up there, not only because I
was curious about what her brother might be like, but because I
wanted to get the heck out of Dodge.

The murder and Barr and his ex-wife woes were enough to
escape from temporarily, but now that I thought about it, I hadn't
taken even a single full day off from my business in almost a year.
I wanted a mini-vacation. If I happened to find out more about
Ariel's murder, so be it.

I just had to tread carefully.

On the way home, I kept expecting-even hoping-to see Barr
behind me again, curious about what I'd learned from Daphne
Sparks. But I didn't see the Impala.

About halfway home, however, my constant monitoring of the
rearview mirror did net a nondescript economy rental car that
looked an awful lot like the one Hannah had been driving. I took a few extra turns, but she stuck with me. As I parked on the street
in front of the house, her car pulled up even with my truck. She
glared at me for a few seconds, then slowly and deliberately smiled.
It wasn't a nice smile at all. As she sped away, I resisted giving her
the of one-fingered salute.

Apparently Barr had not, as he put it, sent her packing.

I PLUNGED INTO A frenzy of housework. Unfortunately, I'm wired
to clean and tidy before venturing away from the home fires. It
was only a day trip to La Conner, too, which shows how pathetic
my life had become.

Besides, the harder I scrub, the less I think about things that
are bothering me. And between Ariel and Hannah, I was plenty
bothered.

Two loads of laundry, a sparkling clean refrigerator, stove, and
kitchen floor, a swept front step, tidied mudroom, two scrubbed
toilets and a dusted living room later, I fell into a kitchen chair,
drank a glass of iced coffee and contemplated the pile of lettuce
I'd taken out of the fridge and put in the sink.

Time to get back to work.

There is something about rinsing every square inch of every
leaf of lettuce to rid it of dust and make sure no crawlies make it
onto the dinner plate that is back-breaking. We hadn't even
reached the time of year when we did most of our canning and pickling, but I was getting that stuck-over-the-sink feeling already.
I'd never do it if it weren't for the fact that I absolutely love how a
big pile of lettuce wilts into a manageable, delectable mound when
tossed with crumbles of bacon, a little hot bacon grease and warm
cider vinegar mixed with a little salt, pepper, and sugar. It wasn't
food you could get in a restaurant, and besides, for me, it was one
of the definite signs that summer had arrived.

Cleaning takes a certain amount of concentration; rinsing lettuce does not. My mind was now free to obsess about Hannah.

My second view of her today confirmed it: she looked a lot
like me. But men are well known to find a certain type of woman
attractive.

Of course, women have their preferences, too. Which was entirely beside the point.

I wondered if she was a nice person. Well, she would be,
wouldn't she? I mean, Barr wouldn't go and marry someone who
ate kittens for breakfast or yelled at old ladies. Because I had to
give him credit for his taste in women, or else what was I saying
about me?

Oh, B.S., Sophie Mae. She followed you around town and gave
you the stink-eye right in front of your own house. She's been told to
go home, but she wants her ex-husband's money. Face it. She's not
nice at all.

Two million dollars. Some women would do a lot for money
like that.

Like what? Beg, steal ... kill?

Oh, man. This was nuts. I reached for the kitchen towel, dried my
hands and went out to the hallway for the phone. My heart went kachunka ka-chunka as I waited through the rings for Barr to answer.

He picked up.

"I thought you might like to know your ex-wife followed me
home."

"Hell," he muttered under his breath. "Okay. I'll take care of
it."

"Is she violent?" I asked.

"What? No, of course not."

I wondered whether he really knew.

"Sophie Mae? Can we talk about this tonight? I'm kind of in
the middle of something."

"Sure. I'll see you later." I pushed the off button on the cordless
handset and replaced it in the cradle. I went back to my pile of lettuce, thoughts roiling.

When I was nearly done, Meghan came in and offered to take
over.

"That's okay. But I wouldn't mind some company," I said.

She flipped on the kitchen light. I hadn't realized how dark it
had become with the sun on the other side of the house.

"Okay. When you're done I'll stuff the squash blossoms," she
said.

I'd almost forgotten. The thought made me feel a little better.

A very little.

I heard a faint clicking noise and looked over my shoulder to
see Meghan knitting peach-colored cotton yarn into a rectangle.

"What are you doing?"

"Making a purse for Erin. Apparently Zoe got one for her birthday, and Erin feels left out." Zoe had been Erin's best friend since
first grade.

"Those two haven't been hanging out as much this summer," I
said.

"I think it's the math camp," Meghan said.

"I didn't even know you knitted."

"My mother taught me. I haven't done it for a while, but all your
talk about spinning and fiber inspired me. It is kind of fun."

Well, of course Meghan would already know how to knit, would
be able to pick it up after years and years and create something totally funky and cool like that little bag. I sighed, thinking about how
I struggled with the twin needles, preferring a simple crochet hook
and only a few loops of yarn to worry about at a time.

"I called Barr," she said. "He told me you'd already invited him
to dinner."

I finished the last leaf of lettuce, tossed it in the drainer and
turned around with the dishtowel in my hands. "Do you know
what he did today?"

"Uh, no."

"He pulled me over on Cedar Street. Lights, sirens, the whole
bit."

She laughed. I scowled.

"Then what happened?" she asked, sounding far too delighted
and knitting away faster than anyone who hasn't done it for years
has a right to. She didn't even look at her hands while she was
doing it.

Suddenly, I remembered the image of Barr's palm against the
truck window, and a wave of emotion washed through me.

"Sophie Mae?"

I waved the dishtowel and took a deep breath. "He was just
checking in."

She laughed. "What, he can't call your cell phone?"

"Oh, gosh. My cell phone. It's still in the truck. I'd better go get
it." After finally joining the rest of the wireless world, I kept forgetting I had the dang thing.

As I came back in the door the hall phone was ringing. "I've
got it," I called to Meghan. Twisting my mouth at the irony, I put
my cell phone down and answered the land line.

"Is Sophie Mae Reynolds there?"

"Speaking," I said.

"This is Cassie Ambrose. Barr's mother. My knucklehead son's
told me quite a bit about you. Sounds like he's really stepped in it,
and I thought perhaps I could help."

Ohmygod. "Mrs. Ambrose. How nice to hear from you. Barr's
told me a lot about you, too."

"Oh, has he now." She laughed. "That's not what I heard. I
heard he's been a regular horse's patootie about telling you about
his family and his past. And please, call me Cassie." Her voice was
strong and deep, with a homey inflection I took to right away.

"Did he ask you to call me?" I asked.

"He did not. In fact, he asked me not to. But I thought it was
high time we got ourselves acquainted. After all, he said you two
are talking about living together."