Chapter Five

I hugged my mother, then stepped back. My mouth was open, but nothing was coming out.

“Are you just going to stand there, Kristy, or do you plan to let me in?”

I moved aside, and Mary Frances O’Hara Vanikos paraded into the room. My mother, a widow for nearly a decade, lived in Florida. She visited us on a schedule that hadn’t wavered once during the past ten years—Christmas through New Years and the last two weeks in April. Why was she here now?

“Grandma.” Abby rose and hugged my mother while the dogs barked and wagged their tails.

“You look terrific, Abby. Are you still living with that lawyer? What’s his name again? Jason? When is he going to make an honest woman of you?” I cringed. Abby grinned.

“We’re doing fine, Grandma.”

My mother spun around. “You look pretty good too, Kristy. Although I liked your old hair style better. Did you put on a few pounds?”

Before I could sputter a reply, Abby asked, “What brings you here?”

“I’ve a surprise.” She winked. Never a good sign. “I’ll tell you later. But first I should get settled since I’ll be here for about a month. I probably should have called.”

She had called three days ago and said nothing about this visit.

“I want to use the bathroom to freshen up. I’ll unpack later. Kristy, why don’t you pour us some wine. Then we can sit down, have a nice chat, and I’ll tell you what this is all about.

Wine sounded like an excellent idea.

*****

Minutes later, we were sitting around the kitchen table, wine glasses filled to the brim.

“Mom, what’s going on? You never visit in the fall.”

“I’m meeting a friend.”

“A friend?” I gulped some wine.

“I met him this spring. His name is Paul Andre. Isn’t that a wonderful name. He lives in Florida, but he’s in New York on business. He’ll be here for most of October, so I decided to come up and spend time with him. Since you’re not too far from the city, I thought I’d combine visiting him with visiting you. I’d like you to meet him.”

“He sounds like a close friend,” Abby said.

My mother grinned. “He’s more. Paul’s my fiancé.”

“Fiancé!” I choked on my wine and coughed.

“It’s not official yet. But that’s why I’m here. He’s buying a ring.” Turning her head toward Abby, she winked. “Paul’s got all sorts of connections in the diamond district.”

“How long have you known him?” I asked, after the coughing ceased.

“It’s not the length of time, dear. It’s the depth of feeling. Besides, I’m not Abby’s age. I don’t have lots of extra years for prelims.”

Prelims? “Where did you meet Paul?”

“Florida.”

“I meant how did you meet him? Through friends? Did he move into your condo development?”

“I met him at an art gallery opening. You’ll like him. He’s handsome, sophisticated—”

“What does he do for a living?”

She paused, furrowing her brows. “He calls himself a venture capitalist. Paul doesn’t talk much about business. Says it would bore me. But he’s well off.” She grinned. “Drives a convertible. We toot all around Florida with the top down.”

The dogs barked as headlights flooded the driveway adjacent to the kitchen window. A few seconds later, Matt strolled through the door.

“I’m home,” my husband said, announcing the obvious. His somber expression told me things hadn’t gone well with his accountant.

“Hello, Matt,” my mother called.

“Mom’s visiting for… a few days,” I said. I’d tell him how long later. “She’s engaged.”

“That’s nice.” His tone was the same as if I had told him I bought a new pair of shoes. He ran his hand through his thinning sandy hair. “I’m going to work for a while in my study.”

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, it will be fine. I just need time to think.” He wandered toward his study without saying good-night.

“What’s with Matt?” My mother frowned. “He didn’t ask why I was here or about my engagement.”

Abby and I exchanged glances. “He had a long day, Grandma.” Abby rose from her chair and stretched her arms. “So have I. It’s time for me to go home.”

“I’m tired too,” my mother said, “and I have to unpack. I think I’ll call it a night.”

After Abby left and my mother headed to her room, I settled back down at the table with another glass of wine.

As I sipped my drink, dozens of thoughts squirreled through my mind. Katie’s friend died today. Her fiancé was missing. My mother was engaged to a man she appeared to know little about. And what was the news from Matt’s accountant?

I swallowed what remained of my wine, washed my glass, and trudged up the stairs to bed with Archie and Brandy at my heels. I was bone tired and tomorrow was another day.

*****

“These bagels smell heavenly,” my mother said stepping into my kitchen the next morning. I’d risen early and picked up bagels, still warm from the oven, from the local bagel shop.

The dogs positioned themselves on either side of my mom. She wasn’t a food sharer, but they could hope for crumbs.

“I’m sorry I can’t spend the day with you,” I said as I handed her a mug of coffee. “But I’ve got to work all day, and I’m busy tonight too. I’m attending a village hall meeting this evening in Clam Cove.”

“I figured you’d be busy, so I’m going shopping today. I rented a car. Tonight, I’m having dinner in the city with my Paul.”

“By the way, when will we meet him?”

“I’m glad you mentioned that. I invited him here for Wednesday. Thought you might throw a little dinner party.”

Wednesday? Today was Tuesday. “That doesn’t give me much time.”

“Keep it small. You, Matt, Abby, and her boyfriend. Oh, let’s also invite your brother and that wife of his.”

“Barbara,” I said. My mother never referred to my brother’s wife by her name.

“Whatever. I think you should—”

My cell phone rang. Glancing at caller ID, I saw it was Katie. I held up my hand. “I need to take this call.”

“Sam still hasn’t returned,” Katie said, her voice quaking as she spoke. “I called the police again, but they don’t seem concerned. Mrs. Farrell, what else can I do?”

“I have an interview with the aquarium’s development officer, Bradford Monroe, later this afternoon. Why don’t I stop by the sea lion amphitheater when I’m finished. It will be about four-thirty. We can put our heads together and see if we can come up with a plan to find Sam.”

She agreed. I asked her if there was any news about Jack Patterson’s death, and she said no. When I hung up, my mother picked up our conversation from when we had been interrupted.

“So Kristy, what will you make for dinner with Paul?”

“A phone call to a caterer.”