Closet Confidential (3 page)

“When would you like me to come back?”

She smoothed her already smooth hair and smiled wanly. “Can we be flexible? I never know how I’m going to feel.”

“I’m booked up lately, but I was able to pop in when Harry called because I leave my Sundays free as a rule. He’s very persuasive.”

“Isn’t he? Well, I don’t know what to do, Charlotte.”

“No pressure. Call me when you feel like going ahead and I’ll come as soon as I’m free.” I was surprised at myself as I am a stickler for making and keeping appointments. But then Lorelei always expected special treatment and got it. She has that in common with my mother.

“Monday then. Monday would be good for me.”

“You mean tomorrow?”

“Isn’t tomorrow Monday?”

“It is, but . . . okay, let me check.” I fished out my agenda, the old-fashioned paper kind. Sure enough. I had a two-hour opening in the middle of the afternoon. I’d planned to use that to work on a time management seminar I was designing, but I could accommodate that easily enough later. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

I looked up to find Lorelei watching me with interest, all signs of fatigue gone.

“Three o’clock? I can be here then.”

“I know I’m not always easy to deal with. Harry’s been suggesting that I try harder.”

I kept my mouth firmly closed.

“Thank you, Charlotte.” Lorelei clasped my hand.

“You’re welcome. I hope I can help. Why don’t we agree that tomorrow we’ll take a look at the other closets? And then I’ll have a better idea where to take it from there.”

“Lovely.”

She was getting paler by the minute. A modern Lady of Shalott. She’d tossed back that mimosa. Had it combined with some sedative she was taking?

“Perhaps you should lie down, Lorelei. You seem unwell.”

The silvery laugh echoed through the room. “Unwell? I suppose I am.”

“I’ll let myself out.”

As I reached the bedroom door, Lorelei swayed and sat on the edge of the shimmering silk-covered bed. “Charlotte?”

Reluctantly I turned back. “Yes?”

“Do you think we will ever find out who murdered my beautiful Anabel?”

I tracked down Harry in the rock garden by the back of the house. He’d changed into khaki Bermudas, a faded blue cotton shirt, and a pair of thick rubber gardening gloves. He was leaning forward on a garden kneeler, yanking out weeds, surrounded by the hum of bees. He had a determined look on his deeply tanned face, as if he was trying to avoid sympathy for the trespassing greenery. That look was overtaken by a smile as he saw me approaching. He stopped and got to his feet.

I took a deep breath first. “I don’t know quite how to say this, Harry, but I had no idea that someone had killed Anabel.”

The smile vanished. His brow furrowed. “Oh, Charlotte honey. What has Lorelei been sayin’?”

“She wondered if we would ever find out who murdered Anabel. I had no idea that anyone had. I thought . . . well, a horrible, tragic accident.”

I actually felt my stomach lurch. I’ve had way too much murder in my life these last two years.

“Charlotte honey, it was an accident. There’s no question about that. Everyone agrees. The police, the witnesses. Everyone except Lorelei. Some days she seems to accept it, but then, when I least expect it, she’ll start up about Anabel being murdered.”

“Oh. So . . . ?”

“A tragic misstep. There’s no reason to think otherwise, except perhaps if you are a heartbroken mother.”

I glanced at him. In my opinion, Harry was far more heartbroken than Lorelei. What impact would this talk of murder have on his healing? “I’m glad to hear she wasn’t murdered.”

His shoulders slumped. “I do not want to think that my beautiful baby girl was killed by anyone. I always wanted the best for her, and now I need to know her spirit will rest gently.”

I felt tears sting my eyes. I found myself patting his arm to comfort him. “I can certainly understand that. I would want the same thing.”

“Lorelei is having problems. She can’t process it. Things have always gone so well for her and now this senseless tragedy.”

I nodded.

“Try not to let her distress you, Charlotte honey.”

“Lorelei won’t distress me. And I can understand why you both feel the way you do.”

“That’s real good. Let me know if she asks you to do anything too . . . unusual.”

“Thanks.” I smiled at him.

“I’m so sorry, Charlotte honey. I should have realized when I suggested the closet project that she might have wanted you especially because of all your involvement in, well, um, you know what I mean.”

“That makes sense. She doesn’t seem to have much interest in the closet refit.”

“As usual, I walked in with my eyes wide open and still not seein’ what she actually wanted.”

Damn. I was doing my best to steer clear of murders for the rest of my life. At least this one wasn’t real.

“I can’t look into murders, and I don’t want to mislead Lorelei about that.”

“Don’t you worry about misleadin’ her. I’ll try to make sure she doesn’t mislead
you
.”

Was it possible that Lorelei could truly mislead me? I consider myself to be practical and not in the least naïve. Of course, I have been known to be wrong on both counts.

“Don’t worry about it. She took me by surprise.”

“She takes a lot of people by surprise. You’ll find yourself bamboozled again when she doesn’t pay any attention to whatever you have both agreed to. Maybe you should humor her. I think in time she’ll come to accept what’s happened as I have. She’ll never have any closure otherwise. I was hoping that you would distract her with your organizing project. You’re young, you’re a real pretty gal, and she’s known you since you were this big. If you can steer her mind away from this crazy idea, it’ll be good.”

“I’ll tell her that I’m happy to do the closets or to come and visit, but I can’t investigate.”

Harry squeezed my hand.

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then. And Harry, I am so sorry for what you’ve been going through.”

“Why thank you, Charlotte honey.”

I hated to take Harry from the solace of his garden, but I did have to say, “One more thing. Lorelei didn’t seem to be feeling all that well and I wondered if you should check on her. Maybe it’s sedatives and mimosas? She didn’t seem herself at all. I wasn’t sure, but it worried me.”

Harry hurried back toward the hard-edged glass and rock architectural marvel, and I headed for my Miata and home.

I would have gone straight home, too, if I hadn’t stopped at Hannaford’s to restock my supply of Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk. I dashed over to my favorite section and squealed to a halt at the end of the nearest aisle. I spotted a familiar redhead. In front of the ice cream cooler was one man I wasn’t sure I wanted to see. Detective Connor Tierney of the Woodbridge Police managed to look like a million in his jeans and T-shirt. He was taking his time over the ice cream and jingling his keys.

That’s the strength and a weakness of living in a small city. You are bound to run into people you know in the main grocery store, restaurants, movies, and any place you might want to frequent. Two and a half years after I moved back from Manhattan to my hometown, and I couldn’t go anywhere without tripping over people I knew.

Not this time, I decided. He was turned away from me, so I didn’t have to meet his ice blue eyes.

I backed up quietly and whipped around on my platform heels. I had other sources of ice cream. And after one lackluster date three weeks earlier, with no call the next day, I sure didn’t want Connor Tierney to get the impression I was following him. I snatched a giant box of Cheerios as I flew down the cereal aisle. No point in going home completely empty-handed. Truffle and Sweet Marie, my miniature dachshunds, like them, and they make great training aids in my ongoing battle to keep them from barking their pointed little heads off. We need training. I spotted some jumbo bags of Mars bars at the end of the row and picked those up, too. I’d need some soothing when training was over. Of course, this all meant I had to go through the checkout lane.

Tierney emerged from the end of the coffee aisle as I reached the cashier. Just when I thought I was in the clear.

He grinned. “You’re in a hurry.”

“Forgot my list,” I said breathlessly.

“Cheerios and Mars bars. I can see where you’d need a list for that. What would be on the list? Buy? Not buy?”

“Ha-ha. There were other things, but I can’t remember what they were. Of course, the dogs may have eaten the list. You know what they’re like.”

I tossed my money at the cashier and added, “Gotta run. Very busy day. Good to see you.”

“Wait, there’s something I—”

But I’d already waved good-bye.

I zipped out the door of Hannaford’s, head down and speed walking to the Miata. I floored it for the few blocks to Tang’s Convenience where I had the privilege of paying a higher price for my New York Super Fudge Chunk while being glared at by my good friend Margaret Tang’s mother. I could have stopped at another convenience store, but when it comes to B & J’s, Tang’s is the only other game in town. I ignored the cost and purchased a half dozen tubs. You never know when there will be an emergency.

As I headed for home, I kicked myself for not asking Tierney about Anabel Beauchamp’s death. I would have felt more comfortable resisting Lorelei’s requests if I had some common sense answers from a working police detective.

Of course, it was too late for that.

I didn’t want to make a move. It wasn’t only his ice blue eyes or the red hair or the silk shirts. I never felt that I was completely in control. My behavior in Hannaford’s being Exhibit A. When you make your living as an organizer, it doesn’t pay to become unglued in public.