Blind Dates Can Be Murder (18 page)

“Today I was just there to check out some profiles and see if I felt like winking back to anybody who winked at me.”

“Winked?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re not up to that part yet. If you choose the profile option, you get to check these people out on the computers down there. If they’re interested in you, they send you a digital wink. Then you take a look at their pictures and their profile, and if you want to meet them in person, you wink back. Some people just go straight for the date without all this winking stuff, but I wanted to be careful. After last night, I want to be twice as careful.”

“Last night?”

“Yeah, did you see the news? My friend Jo had a Dates&Mates date last night, sight unseen, and it turned into a disaster.”

Lettie sat up straighter, trying not to react too strongly.

“Jo Tulip?”

“Yeah, the household hints lady. That was something, wasn’t it?”

Lettie hadn’t seen the news, of course, but she played along.

“It really was. What do you know about all that?”

Marie shook her head, and in the distance Lettie could see a woman get out of her car, also in white and carrying a racket.

“Not much. Just what was on the news. Anyway, Jo’s one of my best friends. She’s one of the Lemon Pickers.”

“The Lemon Pickers?”

“It’s our small group from church. We’re all single and forever picking lemons when it comes to men. So we formed a group, gave ourselves a name, and found a Bible study guide that’s supposed to help us make better choices when it comes to romance. We’ve been working on it for a few months. It’s really great.”

Lettie tried to imagine that, a group of girls all around the same age with the same issues and the same questions, coming together to help each other. Had she lived a different life in a different place in a different time, maybe she could have been a part of something like that too. Lord knew, she certainly had picked a lemon!

“Hey, girlfriend, you ready?”

The other woman with a racket walked up, reaching for the gate handle and looking at Marie inquiringly. She was tall and very pretty, with long brown hair, precise features, and a deep, even tan.

“Sure. It’s about time.”

Marie stood, gathered her things, and then gave Lettie a big smile.

“Thanks for yapping with me,” she said. “I get so bored waiting for
my friend who’s always late
.”

The friend rolled her eyes and stepped through the gate onto the court.

Marie followed after her, but she paused on the other side of the fence, turning back.

“I’m sorry, but with all that talking, I never got your name.”

“Lettie,” she whispered. “Um, Lettie,” she repeated more loudly. “Lettie Smith.”

“Lettie. That’s a pretty name. Well, Lettie, maybe we’ll see you around. Like I said earlier, my name’s Marie.”

“Okay, Marie, see you around.”

As the women headed off to play their game, Lettie stood and walked away, the loneliness surging out of her chest until it burst from her mouth in a sob. She hurried toward her car, hoping no one would notice she was crying, hoping no one would see how very much she was hurting, how utterly alone she was in the world.

9

T
he meeting at Peter Trumble’s house lasted for about an hour. Once they got over the hurdle of Jo’s current involvement in the news, the conversation turned to the more pleasant topic of what they all hoped to accomplish with the house. Peter was an odd man, very abrupt, but that in turn made Jo feel free to lay all her cards on the table and express exactly what she had in mind. She felt as though they could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement as long as they were clear from the get-go as to what each of them was wanting: He wanted a house that was designed to stay clean; she wanted to do the job and use photos and details in a book and on her website. It didn’t hurt that he would also be paying her well for her time.

Once they had covered all of the bases, they decided to reconvene there on Tuesday afternoon, which would give Jo three days to do research and come back with some basic ideas.

“Ming, why don’t you make a simple sketch of the layout of the house for Jo?” Peter said. “Danny, if you want to walk around and snap a few pictures while she does that, feel free.”

Danny retrieved his equipment from the car and went to work, with Peter following along to point out certain special features. Peter seemed to be an expert in a number of areas, from general house construction to electrical work to plumbing to gardening. Outside the sliding glass doors of the living room were several magnificent rows of rose bushes, which Peter pointed out with pride.

“What color will they be when they bloom?”

“A mix. Pink, yellow, white.”

“I can’t grow roses to save my life,” Jo said enviously. “The aphids in our area are just terrible.”

“I’ve found an excellent insecticide,” Peter replied.

Jo followed Ming to the downstairs living area, where she kept her supplies. She opened a closet and took out several pencils and a huge piece of paper, which she unrolled onto the built-in bar nearby.

“Wow, this is a fabulous countertop,” Jo commented, running her hands along the shiny surface. It was a mottled brown, with flecks of gray and white, and so smooth it must have been tumbled for months. “What is it?”

“Azul Florentina Marble,” Ming replied. “We had it specially imported from Brazil.”

“Marble, really? For a countertop I would have thought you’d use granite.”

“The kitchen upstairs is granite. For the downstairs bar, we chose marble. The sheen is richer. Deeper.”

“I see.”

As Ming began to draw, Jo could feel a tense, awkward silence. Obviously, the woman was a bit high strung.

“That’s amazing,” Jo commented as she watched her sketch out the house. “You’re really good.”

“Thank you. I just hope this is worth all of the trouble.”

Ming glanced at Jo and then back down at her work, and Jo knew, for sure, the woman was irritated about something.

“Do you have a problem with my being here?”

Ming looked up, her lips pinched.

“Of course not. Why would you think that?”

Embarrassed, Jo looked away. Maybe she was overreacting.

“I don’t know. I just thought maybe I sensed a little…reticence from you.”

Ming finished the drawing, rolled up the paper, handed it to Jo, put away the pencils, and headed toward the stairs. Not knowing what else to do, Jo followed along.

“We’re almost finished with the entire renovation,” Ming said as she walked. “Now Peter has this crazy idea that he wants to make it a ‘clean house.’ I say, what does he think a maid is for? He should leave well enough alone.”

Jo realized this wasn’t her battle. This was between the two of them.

“Of course,” Ming added, turning around and putting one hand on the banister, “I understand
your
desire to participate in this project. A woman desperate enough to use a dating service will do some pretty drastic things to get a man.”

Ming thought Jo had accepted this consulting job because she was interested in Peter? Not only did she not want him, she didn’t want
any
man right now!

Jo blurted out the first thing that popped into her head: “I didn’t really want a date. I used the dating service as a stunt to build up traffic to my website.”

“Your website?”

“According to my agent, my web traffic spikes whenever I blog about my love life, so I joined a dating service. But I’m not really interested in finding a new man. My life is complicated enough as it is.”

Ming seemed to consider Jo’s words.

“Well, just so we’re clear,” Ming said finally, “Peter may be rich, handsome, and distinguished, but he’s also
mine
.”

“Trust me, Ming. Going after your man is the last thing on earth I’m interested in doing.”

“Let’s hope so,” she replied, her expression remaining unconvinced. She turned and walked up the stairs, and, after a moment, Jo followed.

“Okay, Jo,” Danny said when he spotted her. He was just opening the back of his camera, and he pulled out the completed roll of film. “I’ll have to come back at another time to take the ‘before’ photos we’ll be using, but at least I got some good snapshots for you as you do your research. An entire roll, in fact.”

Jo took the roll that Danny held out to her, and then she turned to Ming.

“Ming, would you mind giving me your telephone number?” Jo asked. “Just in case I have any questions for you.”

“You can call me directly,” Peter said.

“That’s okay,” Jo told him. “I already have your number. I just wanted to get Ming’s so we could continue our conversation at a later time.”

Looking vaguely suspicious, Ming nevertheless produced a business card from her bag and handed it over to Jo. She didn’t know why Ming had jumped to such an extreme conclusion, but she wasn’t about to let this woman’s silly jealousies ruin what otherwise seemed to be a very exciting business opportunity. She slipped the card and the roll of film into her pocket, wondering how she could make it crystal clear that Peter Trumble was the very last person on her mind—at least from a romantic standpoint.

“Okay, then,” Peter said, oblivious to the undercurrent in the room. He walked to the door and held it open. “I guess we’ll see you Tuesday afternoon.”

Impulsively, Jo stepped toward Danny and slipped her hand into his.

“Come on, honey,” she told him sweetly. “Time to go.”

Danny seemed surprised at her gesture of affection, but to his credit he played along, even slipping an arm around her shoulders as they headed down the walk. Once in the car, Jo glanced toward the doorway to make sure Ming was watching. She turned to Danny, who was just putting the keys in the ignition.

“What was
that
all about?” he asked.

“Don’t talk now,” Jo replied evenly. “Just kiss me. And make it look real.”

Danny swallowed hard.

Kiss me? And make it look real?

She didn’t have to ask him twice.

Knowing this wasn’t how he wanted their first kiss to be, knowing there was some other motive here entirely, knowing that Jo’s mind was not on him but on some strange sort of display for the woman who watched from the doorway, nevertheless Danny did as Jo asked. Leaning forward, he met her upturned lips with his own and lingered there. Jo’s mouth felt exactly as he had envisioned: warm, welcoming, sweet. Touching his fingertips to her chin, he pressed his lips more firmly against hers, and then suddenly she was kissing him in return. She raised up one soft hand and pressed it against the back of his head, pulling him toward her. If they had been in a more private setting, he might have kept kissing her for hours.

As it was, he finally pulled away, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding. In Jo’s half-closed eyes, he could see that the kiss had gotten to her too.

“Mmm…” she whispered with a sigh. Then her eyes opened wider. As if coming to her senses, she sat up and turned away, smoothing her hair and looking out the side window.

“Thanks, Danny,” she squeaked. “Now drive.”

Smiling to himself, he put the car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway. Jo might have had a strange motive for the kiss, but Danny knew from the cracking of her voice that it had affected her. She remained silent as they drove. They were at the bottom of the mile-long Candle Road before she spoke again.

“Ming accused me of taking the job because I was romantically interested in Peter,” she said after clearing her throat. “Can you imagine? Thanks for doing that. Now maybe she’ll think we’re a couple and let it drop.”

Danny nodded. It had to have been something like that.

“Anytime you need a cover, babe, you just call on me,” he teased, trying to keep it light. “We aims to please.”

She was silent for a moment, looking out of the window.

“And
please
you did,” she whispered, almost to herself.

Danny grinned all the way to the highway.