The following morning, I woke to the sounds of movement from the kitchen. I rolled off the couch, folded my blanket, and prepared to deal with Auntie’s mental hangover from last night’s tragedy. Would she be in shock? Need a shoulder to cry on? Maybe she’d want to hop on the next flight back to Wisconsin. I needn’t have worried, or in the case of the last option, hoped.
Auntie sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee. She jumped up on my entrance, but I motioned for her to stay seated and got my own cup.
“Were you able to sleep last night?” I used that wouldn’t-break-an-eggshell tone reserved for those in a fragile state of mind.
“Out like a light the minute my head hit the pillow. Are you sure you don’t want to share the bed? There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
My bed was a single. “I like the couch,” I lied. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
She shrugged her large shoulders. “Talk about what? The show was pretty good. I generated a lot of interest in my tarot business. It ended on a bad note, but there’s nothing you or I can do about that. Sad, but there it is.”
I stared with admiration. The older generation was tough. That’s how they managed to face and even flourish against wars, inflation, and a presidential assassination. For the most part, without whining.
“What else did Detective Gutierrez ask you, besides if you knew the victim?”
“She took my name and asked for my address. I gave her yours, since this is where I’ll be for the next few days.”
“That’s it? She didn’t want to know if you’d seen anyone suspicious or what your own movements were?”
“She asked me a lot of questions about things that weren’t any of my business, and I told her so. How would I know if anyone wanted to kill that poor contestant?” Auntie drank the last of her coffee and rinsed her cup in the kitchen sink. “That poor woman. I wonder how her family is taking it?”
“Not well, I imagine. Speaking of the poor woman, why did you run off the minute Elvira Jenkins tried to introduce herself? It was rude and completely out of character for you.”
“When you get to be my age, you answer nature’s call without dilly-dallying.” She set the cup upside down on the drying rack. “We’re going to stick to our plans for today?”
“You’re sure you’re up for it?”
“Absolutely.”
I wondered if she was putting on a brave face for me and if she might prefer to ponder the inevitable end that we each must face, albeit, not through violence. After all, Elvira Jenkins was close to Auntie’s own age. My sturdy relative assured me she did not need a time-out to contemplate mortality.
“Let me get dressed and we can get shaking.”
Half an hour later, we were at the Prickly Pear Bistro, ready for breakfast. It was a sweet little restaurant located downtown Wolf Creek. The inside decor reflected the bright purples, pinks, yellows and oranges of the namesake cactus blooms. The owner of the bistro, Penny Newcombe, had been my best friend since grade school. If my ex-boyfriend Jeff was responsible for my flight from Wisconsin, Penny is the reason I wound up in Wolf Creek, Arizona. Preternaturally perky, Penny is my opposite. Aunt Gertrude adores her.
“Little Penny! Look how big you’ve grown!” Auntie enveloped her in a hug that left only the top of her blonde head visible under yards of gauzy green fabric from my aunt’s voluminous dress. As she rocked Penny in her arms, the many bangle bracelets on Auntie’s arms set off a cacophony similar to wind chimes in a monsoon.
“She’s a grown woman, Auntie,” I said, “and you saw her two years ago at the Hardin baby’s baptism.”
Several diners stared with open interest as I tried to free Penny from my aunt’s smothering hug. She didn’t seem to need my help. She broke out in a goofy crooked grin and snuggled in to enjoy the love. Admittedly, once you get past your need to breathe, Aunt Gertrude is a great hugger.
“What have you been up to? How have you been?” Penny asked.
Auntie pulled away and straightened her neckline. “This and that. Nothing too exciting.”
My mouth dropped open. Murder was nothing?
“Oh, my gosh! Yesterday was the Blue-Ribbon Babes premiere! Was it exciting? Did you have fun? Did you meet any celebrities? I taped it, but I haven’t watched it yet. I was working.”
Here was the perfect opportunity to mention the murder. I was just about to launch into a detailed description of the night that included the bits I’d skipped over with Bowers when Auntie grabbed Penny by the shoulders and held her out for inspection.
“More importantly, what’s going on with you? I sense…yes… someone has a special announcement. You have an aura of peace.”
Penny cupped her hands over her mouth and blushed. I should mention that Penny believes Auntie is truly clairvoyant, which is why my aunt plays it up whenever she’s around her. Penny—dear, sweet, naive girl—even thought my own talents at fake-reading pets were psychic phenomena long before I’d stumbled upon my ability. I’m afraid both misconceptions are my fault.
After Auntie ran into Penny’s father at a showing of The Apple Dumpling Gang Rides Again at the Arcade Theater canoodling with a woman who wasn’t his wife, she did a reading for Judy Newcombe and gave her enough hints that the suspicious wife looked for evidence of an affair. and finding it, threw the bum out. I never had the heart to embarrass Penny with the real story, so I let her believe in Auntie’s powers. As for allowing her to believe in my own skills, pretending to read pets was a great way for a twelve-year-old to earn a dollar, and Penny had a lot of dollars.
“She’s exactly right,” Penny said, jumping up and down. “Kemper proposed!”
She held out her left hand. A delicate woven pattern of two bands of white gold met in a cluster of small diamonds with one larger rock in the center.
I’m oblivious to most jewelry, which explains why I hadn’t noticed the brand-new engagement ring on Penny’s left hand. It also explained Auntie’s amazing aura reading. Like all elderly females, she has a built-in radar for weddings and babies.
“Gorgeous!” Auntie exclaimed.
I’m not proud of my initial reaction. In my mind, Penny suddenly became part of an inseparable twosome. No more girl’s nights out. No more giggled confidences. Kemper, nice guy that he was, represented the end of my paltry social life.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Penny asked. Her shining eyes held such joy that it kicked those thoughts right out of my selfish noggin. I hugged my friend with genuine pleasure.
“You guys are the perfect couple.”
She blushed with pleasure. “You’re just saying that.”
“Really. You’re going to make a great wife and mother. You’re kind, giving, and your upbeat attitude is going to carry you both through a wonderful life together.”
She grabbed my hand and squealed. “We have to try on dresses!”
I shook my hand loose. “Dresses?”
“You’re going to be my maid of honor,” Penny said, poking me. “Kemper and I are signing up for Pre-Cana classes,” she said, referring to the Catholic program that couples go through before marriage, “so that gives me time to sew the dresses. I want to get some ideas on current fashions.”
“Right. Sure.” Clothes shopping ranks up there with having something amputated on my list of things I’d like to avoid. I’d been to enough weddings to know that maids of honor were required to wear ridiculous mounds of taffeta in eyeball-searing colors.
“How about tomorrow?” She squeezed Auntie’s hand. “I’d love your opinion, too. Oh! And now that you’re here, you have to see U Behave, Frances’ shop!”
Penny was one of three people who insisted on calling me Frances. The first was my mother, and the second was Seamus McGuire, owner of Canine Camp, but since he picked it up from Penny, I blame her.
Auntie raised an eyebrow at me. “You have an actual storefront?”
“Not really,” I mumbled, but Penny dragged us both down a short hallway that led to Penny’s office and the restrooms. The door right before the Women’s room led to my shop. The Prickly Pear was situated on a corner. Its own entrance looked out over Main Street. I had my own front door off Maricopa Drive, but most of the time I cut through the restaurant’s dining room to get to work, probably since I usually ate breakfast there. My shop space was where the bakery that formerly occupied the Prickly Pear sold their day-old goods. Seemed appropriate, somehow.
“Can you have an animal business at the back of a restaurant?” Auntie asked.
“It’s not actually in the restaurant. I have my own separate entrance. I only make appointments here. I see the animals in their own home environment.” I really didn’t know the answer to Auntie’s question, but until someone from the city came knocking, I wasn’t going to worry about it.
Penny flipped on the light and Auntie stepped in, spread her arms wide, and said, “The vibrations in here are positively—” She peered around. “Positive.” Even she, enthusiastically launching into another psychic spiel, came up short.
The room was as barren as the day I took over, though I had taken the time to clear out the spider webs and dust bunnies last month. The display counters stood empty, as did the chipped shelves, all of them desperately in need of a paint job. The barren walls resembled a prison cell, especially the far wall with the lightning-shaped crack that suggested seismic activity.
Auntie strolled over and tapped the wall with her finger. “You just need some spackle and that will clear this fracture right up.”
It was more of a gap than a fracture, but I agreed for the sake of peace.
She scraped at the edges with her thumb. Drywall crumbled to the floor. “Yeah. Not too bad.”
At the crack’s center, she had exposed a circle of drywall, making the mark look like a strange pagan symbol. She strolled past the counter and tapped the glass.
“You should sell those collars with studs. Dogs look ridiculous in them, but the owners don’t think so, and they’re the ones with the cash.”
“I don’t want to be a store. Just a simple animal behaviorist.”
She snorted. “That’ll reel them in. You’ve got the display cases right here. It would be a mistake to waste them. If you don’t like the collar idea, you could add treats, leashes, and all sorts of pet supplies.”
I gritted my teeth and thanked her for the suggestion, but already I’d wadded it up and tossed it into a mental wastebasket. The hanging shelves were the next object to fall under her scrutiny. She grabbed the edge of one and pulled down hard. The hinges tore from the wall.
“Wouldn’t put anything heavy on these,” she pronounced as she rested the shelf against the wall. “Good thing I checked.” Hands on hips, she surveyed the room. “I bet you could fix this place up without hiring professionals. There’s plenty of self-help books at the library. How’s the wiring?”
I flipped off the lights before she could electrocute us all. “Let’s get breakfast.”
“Is there anything your aunt doesn’t know about?” Penny cooed.
“She doesn’t think so.”
The food was delicious as always. My Cornflake-crusted French Toast crunched with perfection, and Auntie raved about her Eggs Benedict. My attention wasn’t completely absorbed by my food, which was unusual for me. All through breakfast, the eyes of various diners drifted to our table. I’m a regular at the Prickly Pear, and maybe they were curious about Auntie, which was kind of touching and kind of disconcerting. I didn’t think I was worthy of all that attention.
Penny refused to let us pay, and then she walked me to my car. Auntie insisted on scheduling a hair appointment, and as I had to meet with a client, it worked out fine. Auntie could walk to the stylist at the end of the block, and Penny promised to amuse my aged relative if the hair appointment finished before I returned.
As we said our goodbyes, Seamus McGuire stepped out of Canine Camp, the doggie daycare two doors down. He wasn’t alone. A tall brunette pecked him on the cheek and got into a smart-looking red hybrid. Seamus blushed. With his freckled skin, I could see it all the way from where I stood.
“Who’s that?” I tried to keep my voice indifferent. Seamus had shown some interest in me before things had gone terribly wrong at the conclusion of a murder investigation. I’d hate to think I’d lost all chance of getting to know him better just because I terrified him out of his mind by being able to read it. His was the second hand I grabbed that night while trying to direct the dog out of the burning building.
“Remember how you caught Tyler Watts trying to poison your pets?” Penny shook her head in disapproval of Tyler. “Well that killed his reputation as a trainer. Seamus couldn’t pick up all the new clients, so Bethany moved into town and took over. She’s a very good trainer from what I’ve heard.”
“This Bethany person just happened to move to Wolf Creek?” I asked, still casual.
“I think Seamus went to college with her.” Penny seemed to sense her next words might not go over with a loud cheer. She mumbled, “He sort of called her and asked her to come.”
“Oh. That’s nice.”
“Bethany is nice.”
If Penny met Hitler, she’d probably notice that he had a way with words.
Auntie studied Seamus with interest. “Are you talking about that nice-looking young man?” She waved at him. “Hello-o-o! Over here!” She sounded like she was hailing a taxi.
Seamus came when called because ignoring us would be too obvious, though he kept looking back at Canine Camp as if debating whether to dash inside and lock the door. He kept his gaze fixed on Penny until I introduced him to my aunt. He managed to jump his eyes from Penny to Auntie without risking a stop on my face.
“How do you like Arizona?”
“It’s a lot prettier than I imagined. You actually have flowers. I thought it would be all brown and dead.”
“It is a beautiful place. It really is,” Seamus said in a dreamy, satisfied way that made me think the source of his pleasure didn’t come from the scenery. “There isn’t any place I’d rather live than here, in Wolf Creek, Arizona.”
It is a nauseating peccadillo of People in Love to see the world as a bright and shiny place. It’s particularly tedious to listen to when they’re not in love with you.
“You’re not going to break into song, are you?” I asked.
He flushed. “There’s plenty to see, Mrs. Pitt. Have you been to MIM yet? Bethany and I checked it out last weekend. It’s cool.” He was referring to the Musical Instruments Museum in Phoenix. They’d received great reviews in The Wolf Creek Gazette.
I didn’t want to hear any more about Bethany, so I gave Auntie a kiss on the cheek.
“Gotta go. Be good.”
If I’d been able to see the future, my instructions would have been more explicit.