I WOULDN'T LET Sergeant Morehouse call Scoobie, but Aunt Madge didn't ask, she just did it.
"He says one of the other radiology techs is sick, and he needs to stay at the hospital, unless you really, really need him." She was sitting next to me in the police department's small conference room. For the moment we were alone.
"Did you tell him it wasn't my fault?"
"Lieutenant Tortino had already called him to say you were all right, in case Scoobie heard about it from someone else. I doubt the lieutenant said you went looking for the woman."
"So, when Harry realized something was wrong, he called you?"
"Police first, I think. I was driving to the appraisal office when I saw you. Harry saw that woman's back as you were leaving the house. I guess her fingerprints had already turned up somewhere, so the police figured who it was and fanned out to look for you. It was incredibly fortunate that the sergeant had just gone to First Prez to see if you were in the food pantry."
I was about to ask her if Reverend Jamison was part of a quick plan to get me into Harvest for All, but footsteps in the hall said we were getting company again.
Morehouse walked back into the room and stared at me for a second. "You sure know how to pick 'em." He sat across from me.
I did my best to glare, but it's not easy when you're trying to keep your lips sort of pursed so you don't cry. "Not funny."
He ignored my rebuke. "She mighta been in town as long as Belken was. She's not talking."
I remembered what Dana had told me. "Maybe Benji was driving the car. The one that crashed outside Markle's store."
Morehouse's tone was sharp. "Why would you think that?"
Nuts. I can't blame Aunt Madge's network. "I thought I heard that Belken's prints were in the car, but not on the steering wheel."
Morehouse rubbed his face for a moment and then picked up his pen from the table. "If I find out who told you that she's in trouble."
"Mostly men work here."
He snorted. "What else can you tell me?"
It was almost an hour before I could leave, and all I wanted was a nap.
Aunt Madge started her car as I shut the passenger door. She turned toward me and I met her gaze. "If you hadn't left your purse and car at the appraisal office, Harry wouldn't have known you were in any trouble."
I nodded. "And I am in trouble."
SCOOBIE'S CAR PULLED into the drive at three forty-five. I had placed a banana and bowl on the kitchen counter and paced the living room at least fifteen times in the past twenty minutes.
The key turned in the front door. Why didn't I open it? He'll think I don't want to see him! Stop over-thinking everything.
The door opened and our eyes met. "Hey," I said.
"Hey yourself." His tone was reserved, but not angry.
That's a good sign.
His expression relaxed. "Morehouse called me about half an hour ago. He seemed to think you wanted me to know you didn't go looking for that woman." He took his backpack off his shoulder and walked up and gave me the barest of pecks on the cheek. "I'm glad you're safe, but we still have last night to deal with."
I walked into the kitchen and picked up the banana and bowl to show him.
He looked amused. "Man, you really are trying to get on my good side."
"Yep. You want me to warm this up while you change?"
"Sure."
I mashed the banana and put it in the microwave for the required twenty seconds. The peanut butter I would leave to him.
Pebbles followed Scoobie into the kitchen and Jazz stood at the edge of the room. She had never seen me so upset, not even when I left my gambling husband and fled to Ocean Alley. It seemed to make her nervous.
I fed Pebbles while Scoobie finished making his concoction and we walked to the living room together. He sat on the couch, and I sat across from him. It sort of felt as if sitting next to him would be presumptuous.
After he'd taken a couple of bites, I said, "I'm not sure where to start."
"It's not going to be easy. We've been over some of...this before," Scoobie said.
I nodded. "You've asked me to mind my own business a lot of times."
He shook his head slightly. "It's not so much that."
"It's that I lied," I said, softly.
"It is." He looked around the living room. "Where's that list you dropped on the floor this morning?"
"Oh. You saw it." I stood and reached under a couch cushion, pulled it out, and handed it to him.
"Hiding it?"
I sat back down. "Not really. I keep remembering more to add, so I'm keeping it close."
He kind of grunted a laugh as he read, then looked at me. "Pretty comprehensive list."
I frowned. "I'm sure I'll think of more."
He patted the couch cushion next to him and I moved to sit there. We leaned back, shoulders touching.
"The thing is," Scoobie said, "I don't want you to think you have to kiss my ass for a week. It's just I really can't...go through something like this again."
I nodded. "On top of the deception I could have been killed."
"Yeah. Am I on your life insurance yet?"
I nudged him in the elbow. "Jazz gets it all."
"None for Pebbles?"
"She makes too big a mess in her litter box."
"Good a criterion as any, I guess." He reached his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. I put my head on his shoulder and curled my legs under me.
"So," I asked. "Are we okay?"
"I think so. As long as we’re always honest with each other. I can't really afford to date anyone else until I pay off my student loans."
I let out a breath and pulled a little away from him, so I could look him in the eyes. "There's an especially good reason for us to be glad about that."
"The not dating part?" His grin was catching, and I smiled.
"Ramona brought me a milkshake this morning."
He rolled his eyes. "George said he was going to call her. I told him to mind his own beeswax."
"He's not very good at that."
Scoobie leaned his head back and laughed for several seconds, and then wiped his eyes. "Do you realize how wrong it is that you think that?"
I grinned. "It's part of my learning experience." I grew more serious. "It was good to see her. She, uh, brought me something else?"
"From her trip, you mean?"
"Uh, no. She was sort of concerned that my stomach was upset."
"Are you sick?" Scoobie asked.
"Oh, no." I looked at him. "I guess because she'd been away...when I said coffee had been bothering me..."
Scoobie looked bemused, then he sat up straighter. "What did she bring you?"
I swallowed. "A pregnancy test."
Color drained from his face. I felt bile rise in my throat. "We're going to be parents."
"Oh, wow." He stared at me, and then stood. "I need to go outside for a minute." He walked out.
"Oh, no." I wasn't sure whether I'd said it out loud. I stood, too, and walked to the kitchen and back, then around the living room.
The front door opened and Scoobie came in and closed it. Our eyes met, and he gestured to the couch. "Have a seat."
He has some color back, that's a good thing.
He sat next to me and took my hand. "The thing is, I thought this would be really different."
"Me, too," I whispered.
He opened his other hand, which held some grass. Then he dropped to one knee. "Jolie Gentil, will you marry me?"
My eyes flooded. I couldn't help it. "But, were we, we really, do you feel...?" I couldn't make myself say trapped.
"Come on, Jolie. We were always going to spend our lives together. I just knew it before you did."
I wiped my eyes. "Ramona told me you asked for tips when you met me."
"Ah yes, Ramona and her mouth."
I smiled at him. "Yes. Yes I will marry you."
He got up and sat next to me. "You could have said it faster. My knee hurts." He took my hand, and slipped the hastily woven grass ring on my finger.
"Oh." I studied it and then looked at him, grinning. "How can I preserve it?"
"I've been saving for another kind of ring since I got my job."
"I don't need another kind of ring."
"I know."
He pulled me toward him and we kissed for a long time.
We opened our eyes and I started to giggle.
"Ramona knew before either of us," I said.
"So, is she godmother?" he teased.
I shook my head. "Renée. Do we need George for godfather?"
"That would only encourage your snooping. You know what we do need?"
I shook my head.
"A bigger house."
I’m all for that.