Chapter 31
I returned to the carriage house and phoned Ms. Strickland. “Any news on Maxwell?”
“He no longer finds jail quite as fascinating as he did in the b eginning.”
That wasn’t surprising.
“But we finally have a little break. A key to the bookstore was in one of Delbert’s pants pockets.”
“They’re just telling you that now? Seems like they would have known that immediately.”
Ms. Strickland sighed. “I totally agree. It’s not enough to spring Maxwell, of course. Anyone could have planted the key in his pocket, but it does open up the possibility that Delbert went there on his own that night.”
“I wondered if that could be the reason he was pawing through the professor’s desk!” It wasn’t much, but it was good news. “I know I’m not next of kin, but I’m wondering if you could get the doctor’s instructions regarding Mr. DuBois. They seem to be pumping a lot of pills into him.”
“It’s highly unlikely that we could obtain anything like that due to the patient privacy act. Still, I’ll make an inquiry and see what happens.”
I thanked her and hung up. After a quick shower, I stood in my closet wrapped in a towel, looking at my clothes. What did I own that was the most Norman repelling? He liked grass, so green was out. Turquoise was probably too close to green. Ohh. Dead grass. Why didn’t I have drab brown clothes? I settled on a sundress the color of a hazy blue sky, almost verging on gray. I had bought it because I loved the white polka-dotted fabric.
For my peace of mind, I marked the French doors with straw like Jonquille had shown me. As an apology for leaving Peaches behind, I filled her bowl with her favorite, tuna and duck.
I had mixed feelings about returning Frodo. I had enjoyed his company, even if he would have welcomed an intruder by licking him. I packed his dinner bowl, bed, and toy into my car, asked Felipe to keep an eye on the place, marked the door with straw, and drove to the suburbs with Frodo in the front seat and a strawberry cream torte safely away from him in the backseat.
When I opened the door for Frodo, he bounded out of the car and ran in joyful circles on my parents’ lawn, delighted to be home.
The air felt balmy and summer-like on my bare arms, and cooler than in the city. The scent of meat searing on the grill hung in the air.
Carrying the torte, I walked around to the gate on the side of the house and let Frodo into his fenced backyard.
The first person I saw was the last person I wanted to see—Norman. He waddled toward me.
Frodo, who loved attention from everyone, sped past him like he didn’t exist, and ran to the cluster of people hanging around the grill on the patio. I wished I could do the same.
“I’m sorry about your boyfriend, Florrie.” Norman smiled at me, sending up goose bumps on my arms.
Oh no! My parents must have told his parents that the relationship with Jonquille was over. Aargh! I reminded myself that there were plenty of other people to talk to. It wasn’t a date, and at worst, it would only be a few hours. I could always bail early if he was too annoying.
“Hi, Norman.” I kept walking toward the patio, but he kept pace with me.
“Maybe I can ease your broken heart,” he said.
An opening! How could I use that to my advantage? I looked away and said, “It will take a long time before I’m ready to even think about another man.” Good, good! I looked down at the ground and bit my lip to stop myself from grinning. I would have pretended to wipe a tear from my eye if the torte hadn’t required two hands to carry it. I didn’t like that I was getting better at lying, but it was coming in handy.
“Florrie!” Mom hustled toward me. She held out her arms, and when she took the torte, she whispered, “The Spratts think your romance with the cute cop fizzled and died.”
“Gee thanks, Mom.”
“This is beautiful! I could use your help in the kitchen. Excuse us, Norman.”
I liked this better already. All I had to do was pretend to be busy.
When we were in the kitchen and safely out of earshot of any Spratts, Mom said, “I’m sorry, dear. The Spratts are such old friends of ours. Your father and I thought it best if we just kind of erased your lie by saying you weren’t seeing Sergeant Jonquille anymore. Unless you are?”
I hoped I might be sometime in the future, but it seemed unwise to fuel the fire under that lie again. “No, Mom. But if Norman becomes a pest, you’d better rescue me.”
“Stick with your dad and me. We’ll save you. I promise. One more thing, sweetie, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.”
“Let’s not talk about murder tonight. I don’t think the Spratts would understand. Iced tea?”
I spooned ice cubes into the tall glass and poured the dark amber liquid. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not right now. I prepared most of it in advance.”
I walked to the sliding glass door and looked out. The Spratts were there with my dad and Norman. Veronica was wearing crazy-high heels again and someone had his arm wrapped around her waist. Mr. Spratt appeared to be discoursing on something. Veronica’s friend turned his head slightly to listen to him. I blinked. Surely I wasn’t seeing right.
“Mom, what’s the name of Veronica’s new boyfriend?”
“Scott. Scott Southworth. You’ll love him. He’s very smart. His dad is that big builder. I’ve seen the Southworth name on a lot of construction signs. And you won’t believe who his stepmom is.”
“Oh?” I watched him with Veronica, my heart sinking.
“Jacquie Liebhaber!”