Every Trick in the Book Page 16

Picking up her fork, my mother pressed the metal tines against the pads of her fingertips. I could tell that her mind was on other things besides her food. “I’m afraid I’ve brought a dark cloud to supper, hon.”

  Noting that she had ordered a mixture of lemonade and iced tea in lieu of whiskey, my concern grew. I’d planned on telling her about my visit to Tilly’s and that I thought I might have seen a figure lurking near the writer’s home, but seeing that my mother was not herself, I decided not to mention the worrisome subject.

  She was gazing blankly at some point in the middle distance, and I gently waved my hand in front of her face to bring her back to the present. “Did something happen during your reading?”

  “Only at the end,” she said after blinking a few times. “I laid out the cards and asked Miz Margaret to think of a question she’d like answered. Most of the time, she’s frettin’ over one of her kids. I think havin’ them live so far away is tough on her. She’s awfully lonely, and if you ask me, they don’t call her near enough.”

  I pictured the elderly, housebound woman sitting expectantly by the phone and shook my head in sympathy. “That’s sad. She has a caregiver though, right?”

  My mother nodded. “Sure. The kids send money and hire plenty of help for her. They’re right good about that, but there are other ways of carin’ for folks. The most important ways.” She put her palm over her heart. “If one of those kids doesn’t step up, that old gal is gonna keep fadin’. She’s gettin’ real depressed.” After sprinkling some pepper on her fried steak, she continued. “But there were good signs in her cards today. Her son, I think, is gonna get her trained to use a computer so they can email. He’s always on his BlackBerry and he’ll reach out to her a couple of times a day once this happens.”

  “That sounds like a great solution for both of them,” I said, hoping my mother would perk up. “Go on and take a bite. Your food is getting cold.”

  Absently, she did so. “The problem came at the end of the readin’. Once I knew good news was on the way for Miz Margaret, I’m ashamed to admit that my thoughts wandered. I started thinkin’ about Trey and about that woman who got killed. The one who looked so much like you that my blood practically turned to ice when I saw her picture in the paper. She—”

  “Her name was Melissa Plume,” I interjected. I didn’t want her to be referred to as “that woman” or “the victim.” My mother hadn’t meant any harm, but it was important to me that Melissa be remembered as an individual and not just a cold and impersonal noun.

  “Melissa.” She spoke her name with respect. “I was layin’ cards down into the Future position, but they weren’t meant to speak to Miz Margaret’s future because I was focusin’ on you and Trey.”

  I hated to ask, but it was clear that my mother needed to tell me about those cards. “What were they? Our Future cards?”

  “The immediate Future was the Tower. It’s a card of ill omen,” she explained heavily. “Shows a tall tower that’s been hit by lightning. People are runnin’ for their lives or fallin’ from the heights. It’s a warnin’, Lila, probably to both you and Trey. And it’s serious.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. The shadow I’d seen near Tilly’s house seemed to fill the room. Despite the din of the other diners and the innocuous setting, I felt vulnerable.

  “The Emperor came next. It’s not a scary card. He influences folks. Can be a benevolent father figure or a mentor. But this Emperor was in reverse. He’s manipulating his authority and that made me think of Jasper. And he can be dangerous, like the man who took Melissa’s life. I reckon both of those men have discovered a new and dark power in themselves. It’s twisted them, made them wicked—each in their own way.” She put down her fork and grabbed my hand. “They’ve got to be stopped before the Tower’s omen comes to pass.”

  Whether I believed in the cards or not didn’t matter. My mother did and she was obviously in distress. I glanced around for our waiter. If ever Amazing Althea needed a shot of Jim Beam, it was now. As I searched the room, my gaze fell upon a familiar figure seated at the bar.

  I’d only met him once, but I remembered the average-looking man from our pitch session at the book festival. It was T. J. West, the author whose proposal I’d read and responded to earlier in the day. I studied his plain countenance and steel-rimmed glasses, the tidiness of his short hair, blue button-down shirt, and brown slacks. He seemed to fit Tilly’s brief description of the man she kept seeing around Dunston. Then again, hundreds of men could qualify as dressing “neatly” and looking “nice enough.”

  And yet, West had mentioned a teddy bear in his synopsis. He’d written about a murdered mother and placed a teddy bear next to her dead body. Was that truly coincidental or had West known Melissa Plume? Was it possible that he was now stalking Tilly?

  With a shudder, I suddenly recalled how the cozy writer wouldn’t tell me his real name, referring to himself only by his pseudonym. That was definitely strange. I probably would have pushed the point had the ceiling not started leaking in the middle of his pitch.

  Having seen me craning my neck, our waiter headed over to the table, successfully distracting me from a host of confusing thoughts. I ordered a whiskey for my mother and then decided to go and say hello to T. J. West. I leaned in toward her and told her that someone I knew was sitting at the bar. “Do you mind if I talk to him for a second? It’s important.”

  My mother gave me a wan smile. “Of course not, shug. I’m gonna eat this meal if it kills me. You know how I can’t stand to see food go to waste.”

  “And I’m taking what you said about the cards to heart,” I quickly assured her. “Perhaps there’s more I can do to help catch Melissa’s killer. And you’re right about Trey. It’s high time we put our heads together and find out what exactly is going on at the co-op. I’ve been worried about that boy, but if you sense real danger, then I’ve got to do more than worry. I’ve got to act.”

  Because my mother was satisfied that I was responding to her warning instead of ignoring it, she encouraged me to go speak with West. I cast a quick glance toward the bar again and saw that he was gone.

  When I didn’t move, my mother looked at me quizzically. “Did he slip away while we were gabbin’?”

  I tried to conceal the alarm I felt over his sudden disappearance. From my vantage point, I could see that West hadn’t finished either his beer or his cheeseburger but had deposited cash next to a crumpled napkin. His barstool hadn’t been pushed in and his fork and knife had been tossed unceremoniously on his plate. All these signs indicated that he’d been in a rush to leave.

  Picking at my own sandwich, I tried to concentrate on my mother’s plan to lure Trey away from the co-op by sending him on a tour of Europe. She offered me a big chunk of her savings to make this happen, and though I was deeply touched by the offer, I shook my head in refusal.

  “He has to give up Red Fox Mountain voluntarily,” I insisted. “And there’s no argument for him to do that until we discover what’s amiss. However, I have an idea of how to address this issue. It will require Trey’s involvement, so the decision will ultimately be his.”

  I put forth a scheme to infiltrate the co-op by hiring one of Trey’s former high school classmates. I’d give this boy money to pay for a meditation session with Jasper, and he could then report back to us about what really went on inside the restricted building.

  My mother wasn’t pleased. Her mouth formed a severe frown. “Lila, we could be sendin’ that boy into a precarious situation. Would you want Trey to agree to such a crazy plan? I doubt it.”

  Her comment gave me pause. I’d certainly be upset if a strange woman hired my son to investigate a potentially unstable commune leader. On the other hand, our actions might prevent other college students from falling victim to Jasper’s power. I didn’t know how he was attracting these kids, but he was doing something to encourage them to skip class, hike up the mountain, and pay an exorbitant fee for a few minutes of reflection.

  �
��I wouldn’t want an adult in a position of authority to take advantage of Trey, either, and that’s what Jasper is doing. I’m certain of it. Think of all the kids that have been funneling into Inspiration Valley. If you can think of anything else I can do to protect them, I’m open to ideas.”

  But she couldn’t come up with an alternative and we agreed that I should talk strategy with Trey first thing in the morning.

  “He’s gonna stop by the agency tomorrow anyway,” my mother assured me, looking much less troubled now that we were taking action. “He’s been missin’ you lately. I have, too. I liked it when we were all under the same roof.”

  I smiled at her. “It was nice, but we all need our own space. I love my cottage and I’m still hoping that Trey will head off to college in January. He can’t defer his admission beyond that.” I gazed fondly at my mother. “But we should do this more often. Have a regular girls’ night. Just you and me. I don’t want any distance to come between us because I moved a few miles down the road. You’re important to me, Mama.”

  At this poignant moment my cell phone buzzed. I’d set it to vibrate before entering the restaurant, but when I saw Sean’s number floating in the rectangular screen, I excused myself and rushed to the foyer to answer his call.

  “Hi, stranger,” I said.

  His sigh echoed through my phone’s speaker. “Stranger, huh? It’s been too long, hasn’t it? Sometimes I hate this job because the bad guys just won’t turn themselves in like I wish they would. If they’d only cooperate, you and I could go out for a nice, leisurely dinner. We could talk about anything other than police work over an enormous steak and a really good bottle of wine.”

  “I have a decent merlot at home,” I offered. “Are you still on the clock?”

  “Yes.” His regret was tangible.

  Thinking fast, I said, “If I told you that I hadn’t left Dunston yet and that I had information that might be relevant to the case, could you meet me at Bill’s Bar and Grill?”

  “Absolutely.” The delight in Sean’s voice was unmistakable. “See you in five minutes.”

  Grinning like a fool, I went back inside and was surprised to see my mother pouring the contents of her whiskey tumbler into a takeout cup. “I’ll drink this when I get home,” she said with a smirk. “You don’t need me hangin’ around like a third wheel. You and your hunky policeman need some alone time.”

  Despite my protests over her swift departure and the fact that she was carrying whiskey home in a foam cup, my mother called for the check, handed the waiter a few bills, and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Call me after you see Trey tomorrow,” she commanded and then headed out into the night.

  I resumed my seat and finished my sandwich. Suddenly, I was starving, and I didn’t want to wolf my food down in front of Sean. As it turned out, he’d already eaten so we both ordered decaf cappuccinos.

  Behaving like a pair of smitten teenagers, we held hands across the table and couldn’t stop smiling at each other. I drank in the blue of Sean’s eyes and reveled in the touch of his fingertips. He told me about his day and we both shared a laugh over a joke one of his fellow officers had told him over lunch. He then thanked me for the fax and assured me that Ruben’s story checked out. The bereaved editor had definitely been in Chicago and dozens of people could attest to this fact.

  I was relieved on Ruben’s behalf, but the mention of his name brought an end to our jovial mood. We tried to cling to it as long as possible, but as soon as I raised the subject of Tilly and her stalker, Sean’s eyes lost their merry twinkle and became dark with concern.

  “And you saw someone near her house? A man or a woman?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t be that specific. It was a movement. A shadow. But I’m pretty sure someone was there. Tilly thinks she’s been followed since the book festival.” I wondered if I should mention that T. J. West fit Tilly’s description of the man she’d repeatedly seen around town. However, I decided that it would be unfair to put West on Sean’s radar without a scrap of evidence that he’d done something wrong.

  “Is there a connection between Tilly and Melissa?” Sean asked, his gaze keen. I could practically hear his mind churning. “They’re both in the book business.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Tilly’s books aren’t put out by Melissa’s publishing company, but the fact that they were both at the book festival might mean something. Flora’s her agent, so you could get Tilly’s professional history from her.”

  “I’m going to take you home now,” Sean said with a tinge of regret. “But we’ll go by Tilly’s house first. I want to make sure that no one is lurking around before we leave Dunston.”

  At that moment I felt such a strong rush of affection for my dedicated policeman that I stood, leaned over the table, and kissed him on the mouth. People turned and smiled at us and Sean looked pleasantly surprised.

  “What was that for?”

  “For being Tilly’s knight in shining armor, even though she doesn’t know it. Most people would think she’s just another eccentric artist with a flair for drama, but you only care about her being scared. You’re ready to leap to her defense within seconds of hearing her plight.” I caressed his cheek, feeling the stubble along his strong jawline. “I am a lucky woman.”

  Sean sighed happily. “This makes all the bad coffee, night shifts, stakeouts, paperwork, and lousy pay worthwhile. Let’s go chase the shadows away from Tilly’s place. And after that, I’ll check your closet for monsters before tucking you into bed.”

  IN TILLY’S NEIGHBORHOOD, the streetlamps cast a warm incandescence onto the sidewalks and road. Some of the houses were dark, but most of them had lights on, giving the community a welcoming feel despite the darkness of the night.

  Scrutinizing the shadows while he drove, Sean pulled up in front of Tilly’s house and parked. He kissed me and said quietly, “Wait here while I look around.” Patrolling up and down the sidewalk, he peered around trees and bushes and scanned the houses on the other side of the street. He ventured up Tilly’s driveway and surveyed the hedge at the side of the garage.

  Colored lights from a flat-screen TV shimmered through the bay window at the front of the house. I could see Tilly on the couch with Peter leaning against her. Her husband relaxed on a recliner with Emma on his lap. The tableau filled me with a sense of nostalgia, transporting me to a time when Trey was Peter’s age. We used to cuddle up on the couch just like Tilly and her son, watching reruns of Murder, She Wrote. Trey would snuggle in closer during suspenseful scenes, and we’d make a game of trying to figure out “whodunit” before Jessica Fletcher.

  “Well, it all seems peaceful around the neighborhood.” Sean’s entry into the car pulled me back to the present. “There doesn’t seem to be anything suspicious; no one is lurking in the bushes. I think you can rest easy tonight.” Sean touched my knee and then started the car.

  “Especially with you nearby,” I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

  By contrast, everything was dark when we drove up the driveway of my cozy yellow cottage. I had left no lights on that morning when I went to work and hadn’t been home since.

  “Looks a little gloomy,” I observed. “After Tilly’s.”

  “We’ll soon have it glowing.” Sean reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before opening his door. I pulled my door handle, and suddenly his police radio squawked, crackling an indiscernible code. With an apologetic look in my direction, he responded to the dispatcher. “My ETA is twenty minutes.” He then cradled my face in his hands, gently brushing his lips against mine. “I’m so sorry, Lila. I really need to go.”

  Disappointed, I nodded and tried not to show my frustration at how his job always seemed to interfere with our plans. “I understand.” I sighed. “At least we were able to have cappuccinos together.”

  IN THE OFFICE that Thursday, I threw myself into work while waiting for Trey to arrive. At the same time, I tried to avoid the thoughts that had troubled my sleep
during the night. I loved being with Sean, and we were good together, but the demands of his job were preventing us from taking our connection to the next level. It was true that the qualities that made him such a special man—his compassion and kindness, his strength and loyalty—were also what made him a great cop. Still, I was beginning to wonder about the future of our relationship.

  I was reading a unique proposal for a paranormal mystery about a woman who’d sprouted wings when there was a knock on the door.

  “Mom?” Trey stepped over the threshold. “I hope I’m not interrupting. Nana said you’d be expecting me.”

  I smiled broadly at the other man in my life and walked around my desk to hug him. “Not at all, Trey. You can interrupt me anytime.” I was about to suggest that we go downstairs to Espresso Yourself, but then thought better of it, since I was planning to propose a clandestine operation to my son. “Can I get you a coffee from the kitchen?” I asked instead.

  “No, thanks. I’ve stopped drinking caffeine. It’s totally addictive, you know.”

  Raising my eyebrows at what were probably Iris’s words coming out of my son’s mouth, I gestured toward my guest chair. “So what’s up?” I asked as I lowered myself into my own seat.

  “Oh, nothing specific. Just wanted to hang out with you for a bit…” His voice trailed off. “I’m feeling kind of unsure about things at the co-op. Like, how long I want to stay there? And if it’s really what I want to do with my life.”

  I tried to keep my expression neutral in order to not reveal how much this delighted me. If he were beginning to question his future at the co-op, then perhaps he would seriously consider going to college in January. “Have things changed that much for you? You were so fulfilled at first,” I ventured.

  “Some things are good,” he said, his cheeks flushing pink, and I knew he was thinking of Iris. “But like I told you before, the meditation center is off-limits to me and that makes me feel like an outsider. I mean, I’m either a member or I’m not, right?”

  I nodded. “I can imagine how being excluded would make it seem that way.” Folding my hands on the desk, I leaned forward. “I have an idea of how we can figure out what’s going on there.”