8

The next morning, Heather's phone rang at eight thirty. She answered with her usual greeting.

"Ms. McBlythe? This is Mary Dubois with Five Star Employment Services. I received your message and wondered how I might help."

"Thank you for returning my call. I'm afraid my personal assistant jammed my calendar full this morning, but I was wondering if I could buy you lunch today. I've made reservations at Dominic's, which I believe isn't far from your office."

"That would be lovely."

"Fine. I'll see you at noon."

"Wow," said Bella, sitting at the table wearing a cut-off football jersey and sleep shorts. "You molded her like putty."

Heather smiled. "If you're wanting to be a detective, you have to speak the language of whomever you’re talking to. Mrs. Dubois is used to dealing with wealthy people who have high expectations. Did you notice how I only gave her one option of when to meet me? That told her I was serious about doing business and she'd better make herself available. You can bet she's already looked at my background, and has a good idea of my net worth. Acting wealthy is easy for me. It took me a lot longer to learn how to talk to homeless people."

"I can talk like a hotel maid," said Bella with pride in her voice. "That's what my parents have me doing. Both of them work hard and it didn't take long after the television show fell through for them to tell me I could either pay regular room rates or earn my room and board. They want me to learn the hotel business from the ground up so I can take over when they retire."

"They love you very much."

"That’s true. It didn’t thrill them when I said I was coming here, but I really needed to get away. The island was closing in on me." She cocked her head to one side. "Did you ever have to get away from something?"

Heather thought back to a sterile existence growing up. "Everyone feels that way."

"Did you run far?"

"Very far. All the way from Princeton to working as a cop in Boston for ten years. I kept running until I got to Texas. My father chased me, trying to get me to come home and be a part of his world. Then Steve came into my life. He needed me. At the time, I didn't realize how much I needed him."

"What do you mean, you needed Steve?"

"He pointed me back to my parents. Now Mother's gone, but Father and I are closer than we've ever been."

"I guess some things take more time than others."

Heather rose and chuckled. "We dressed alike. Football jerseys and sleep shorts. If Mrs. Dubois could see me now, she’d turn and run."

"I think you're the prettiest woman I’ve ever met, and I know Jack thinks the same." She paused for a breath, then plunged ahead. "When's the wedding?"

Heather held up her hands. "Put the brakes on, young lady. Where did that come from?"

"You're engaged, aren't you? It seemed like a logical question."

"When were you and your prince going to get married?" asked Heather to deflect the uncomfortable question.

"He hadn't asked me, but I was sure he would. Anyway, I wanted to get married at Christmas. The best thing that ever happened to me came at Christmas when you and Steve found my parents. I think a Christmas wedding would be lucky."

"Jack and I are taking things slow," said Heather, to pacify the inquisitive young mind.

"Why wait?"

Heather turned. "You need to go next door and cook breakfast for Steve."

Bella bounded out of her chair. "You're making me feel right at home. Whenever my mom doesn't want to answer, she finds something for me to do."

With steamy water pounding her head, Bella's two-word question seemed to echo in the shower. "Why wait?"

Heather spoke out loud an answer that would satisfy no one, especially herself. "It's complicated."

* * *

Steve sipped coffee and listened to a repeat of the early morning local news when the cat door opened and Bella hollered, "I'm coming over." He never imagined when he moved to this condo many years ago that there'd be a hole in the wall between his dining room and the one next door. After her inheritance came through and Heather decided to make her home beside him, the pass-through for Max seemed the perfect solution. It also worked well as an early warning system.

Bella flopped on the couch. "Anything good on this morning?"

"The freeways and major roads are reporting a slew of accidents, the normal blather by finger-pointing politicians, there's a thirty percent chance of light rain today, and only two murders last night."

"Sounds like a rinse-and-repeat sort of day."

Steve already had the remote in hand, so he clicked off the television. "What are you cooking for breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry. Do you want a couple of fried eggs and sausage?"

"Not yet. I need to do a couple of miles on the treadmill this morning."

"Me, too,” said Bella and followed the words with pig oinks. “I stuffed myself on pizza last night and feel like a blimp." Her voice went up a note. "Let's take a walk instead of going to the gym."

Steve pushed a wayward lock of hair back in place. "We'll be wringing wet if we walk two miles outside. Our December weather feels a lot like September this week. Are you sure you don't want to go to the gym?"

Bella hesitated, and the cheerful tone left her voice. "It doesn't normally bother me when guys watch me working out, but if it's all the same to you, I'd like to walk where there aren't many people."

"No problem. Let's do three miles on the walking path around the complex. We'll sweat so much no one will want to look at either of us. A good cleansing of the body and mind will be good for both of us."

Steve pushed himself out of the recliner. "If we work that hard, there'd better be pancakes, sausage, and eggs as a reward."

Bella came off the couch like a Jack-in-the-box. "I'll race you to see who can get ready the fastest."

The front door slammed before Steve made it to the bedroom. The race was on and the two met outside the condos, with Bella only slightly ahead. He asked, "Does my shirt come close to matching my shorts?"

"Not really. Are you trying to impress some cute widow or divorcée?"

Steve held out his hand and Bella placed it on her arm. "Let's make a deal this morning. No talk about either of our crummy love lives."

A hint of mischief seasoned Bella's next words. "Can we talk about Heather's?"

"Not until we finish two miles. After that, I may need oxygen and won't be responsible for anything I say."

Bella took off at a quick pace. Steve’s shorter strides made it difficult to keep up. It wasn't long before he gave his rendition of a steam locomotive while Bella’s long legs ate up real estate like it was candy.

"No fair," said Steve, as he spoke in short sentences. "Your legs are too long."

"Do you need me to slow down?"

"Keep going," said Steve, even though his lungs felt like someone set them on fire. The calves of his legs were burning in sympathy with his lungs. Something that felt like a boulder had wedged in his left shoe, making the speed-walk even more miserable. He managed to get out a simple sentence. "Bring phone?"

"Sure. Why?"

"In case… I need… ambulance."

Bella patted his sweaty hand. "You're doing great, and we're almost to the two-mile mark."

He wanted to ask if she didn't mean the twenty-mile mark, but he was hurting so bad he didn't want to waste what little breath he had on a lame joke.

On they went until Bella said, "Two miles. Let's rest."

Steve crumpled to the wet ground, took off his shoe, and shook it. Bella took it from his hand. "Why didn't you tell me you needed to stop?"

"Was having… too much… fun."

He felt her put the shoe back on and tighten the laces. "There. We need to keep walking or your muscles will contract, and I'm not sure I can carry you. Let's take the pace down to where we can talk normally."

That was music to his ears. Her shorter strides were such that Steve used his cane to navigate the asphalt path without holding on. Eventually, his lungs stopped burning, and the rest of his body fell into line. He could even ask a complete question without panting. "What were you and Heather talking about this morning?"

"Girl talk. She was getting the scoop on my dumpster fire of a love life."

"Ah. We agreed not to talk about that. Do you want to renegotiate?"

"No, and thanks for not pressuring me to tell it again."

"Excellent decision. Sometimes you need to talk to someone you can trust, and other times silence is a pleasant companion."

They walked on for another three minutes before Bella said, "I'm worried about Heather and Jack."

"Oh?"

"I'm afraid she'll never get up the courage to marry him and she'll regret it the rest of her life."

"She's a complicated woman."

Bella stopped, so Steve did too. "That's almost the same words she used when I asked her why she was waiting."

Steve took a paper towel from his pocket and made it soggy by running it over his face. "I used up all my good will when I helped her see she wanted to be engaged. It was an elaborate scheme, but it pushed the boundaries of our friendship. That's as far as I’m going with matchmaking. Besides, I need to concentrate on solving a murder."

"More background information this morning?" asked Bella.

Steve nodded. "Until yesterday, there were seven members of the Green family living under one very large roof. Now, there's only six."

"How many in the Webber mansion?"

"Six, unless one or more got bumped off in the night."

"Let's see," said Bella. "Heather worked on three histories last night, and you and I made files on two. That leaves seven and Heather's going to Houston today."

"You’re not counting Lucy, the victim. We have to know her history, as well as the staff of both homes."

"Holy smoke. We'd better get to work."

"Breakfast first. The first rule of being a PI is to fuel up at the beginning of a day. If Leo doesn't solve this case, we'll need all the energy we can get."