Despite my ardent hope, Merlin didn’t return before I had to leave for my impromptu lunch date. I wished I could call him back now that Officer Dash had told me the exact cause of death, but unfortunately I had no way of getting in touch with him.
He’d find out soon enough, I supposed. And I could rest a little easier knowing that our dear Harold hadn’t been killed by magical means.
I applied my normal going-out face of makeup. Then, hating what I saw, I washed my whole face clean. The striking blue eyeshadow I normally wore to complement my dark brown eyes appeared clownish when paired with my new forest green irises. I’d have to add a trip to the drugstore cosmetics aisle to find something more fitting to my lengthy to-do list… or I could just get used to going everywhere fresh-faced.
Haha, right. It’s not like I had many wrinkles or pimples to cover up, but the simple act of applying my daily powders and glosses gave me a special kind of courage. Knowing I looked good helped me get through the day. I’d never been a great beauty, but I liked showing others that I cared about my appearance and thus myself. It was a routine my mom had taught me while I was quite young. I still fondly remembered those middle school mornings spent applying our foundation and blush side by side in the massive bathroom mirror.
I smiled as I thought of Mom all the way back home in Michigan. Once this investigation was officially closed, I’d have to give her a call to catch up. Unfortunately, if I called any sooner, she’d see right through any attempts I made to downplay my anxiety.
And so it would have to wait.
In all the talk about Harold and the non-talk about Luna, I hadn’t managed to eat breakfast, so by the time I reached the restaurant my stomach had begun to sing a mournful tale of neglect, one growl and one grumble at a time.
The BBQ Shack was something of a local legend and often boasted a long wait for anyone to be seated. I hadn’t yet been, but the moment I stepped inside and smelled the sweet, tangy scents of barbecue, saliva began to pool in my mouth.
Kelley was already seated at a table toward the front and motioned for me to join her. She stood when I arrived and motioned between me and her mother, a dour-looking woman who was so thin, her cheeks appeared sunken in. “Gracie, this is my mom. Mom, Gracie.”
Kelley’s mother remained seated but extended her hand for a limp shake. I couldn’t tell whether I disliked her or whether I simply had a bad reaction to believing she didn’t like me. Whatever the case, I immediately became very uncomfortable. The only saving grace was that the noisy revelry of the other diners was enough to drown out the sounds my singing stomach.
Nobody said anything until the waitress arrived to take my drink order. Kelley and her mom had already settled in with a couple Arnold Palmers, so I ordered the same.
When it became clear that Kelley still didn’t know what to say and her mother had no desire to start a conversation herself, I folded my hands in front of me and did the deed myself. “So what do you think of Elderberry Heights, Mrs.…?” Shoot, I didn’t even know Kelley’s last name.
“Carmine,” my friend supplied with a tight grin.
“And it’s Miss, thank you very much. I never married after a certain boyfriend turned me off of love and marriage forever.” She sniffed and grabbed the small mesh container that housed packets of multi-colored sugars and artificial sweeteners.
“Mom,” Kelley whined, kicking her heels back against her chair with a thump that resonated through the table. “You promised you wouldn’t talk about Dad anymore.
“Well, it’s not my fault, your friend brought him up. Also don’t call him ‘Dad.’ that man was never a father to you.”
“I didn’t… I mean, I’m sorry if—”
“No, no. Don’t apologize,” Kelley said gently to me, then turned her head to glare at her mother. “Stop trash-talking him. I get that what happened between you wasn’t great, but the man is dead. Just let it go.”
Ms. Carmine snorted and dumped two packets of Splenda into her cold drink, taking care to stir them vigorously with her straw.
Seeing as things were already tense, I decided to prod a little. “What did happen between you?”
Kelley’s eyes widened and her lips puckered, but she made no move to argue. The look on her face said it all, though. I’d betrayed her in the worst possible way.
I hated that I’d hurt my new friend, but I could apologize for that later. She’d thank me once I helped to bring her father’s murderer to justice—even if that murderer ended up being her own mother.
“What happened between us?” Ms. Carmine repeated, her voice pitchy and agitated. “What happened between us?”
Kelley placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder and mouthed something I couldn’t decode. “Same old girl loves boy, boy cheats on girl, and they lived unhappily ever after story,” she told me, then raised an arm and shouted, “Waitress! I think we’re ready to order.”
“He didn’t just cheat on me,” Ms. Carmine bit out. “He did it with my roommate who also happened to be my very best friend. I had nowhere else to go, so I left town. I vowed if he ever turned up at my door again, I’d kill him with my bare hands.”
“Mom!” Kelley cried, jumping to her feet. “Enough!”
Ms. Carmine silently sipped at her tea. To her credit, she was in a much better mood for the remainder of our meal after she’d gotten whatever that was off her chest.
And the whole time we ate and made small talk, I kept on wondering: Had Kelley’s mom just confessed to Harold’s murder?
And if so, what should I do next?