Down Home and Deadly (13 page)

“Like what?” Seth’s face darkened.

Unsure whether to abort my mission or keep trying, I forged on. “Oh
,
I don’t know. Like did he move here to take the police job, or was he already here when the opening came?”

“I don’t know. I think he had been here a little while when the opening came up. Why?” His eyes were filled with suspicion.

“I told you. I just like to know about people. And I figured you’re his best friend, since y’all are partners and all.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know about best friend. That sounds kinda girly. He’s a pal. We don’t hang out much, since h
e
and Tiffany have a thing going on.” He sent a searching look my way. “You do know about that, don’t you?”

“Sure. I saw them at the
c
abins the other day, remember? Have they dated long? Did he date around when he first came?”

Seth’s
grin slipped slightly.
“Why? You want to take him away from her? Did you forget that big rock on your finger?”

My eyebrows rose. “No!”

He put his hand on my arm and gazed into my eyes. “You’ve
made it plain to me you’re engaged
,
and I’m dealing with that. So why are you asking about other men?
”

Eek.
I hadn’t taken into account that he might be jealous.
“Seth
.
 
.
 
.
I—”

He held up his hand. “I know. You
only
like me as a friend. But Tiffany’s a real sweet girl. And she doesn’t need you messing things up for her. So just remember, Rick’s taken.” He stomped off before I could assure him that I wasn’t after Tiffany’s boyfriend.

I knew one thing for sure. I’d never ask Amelia for another favor.

Her paybacks were too steep.

*****

*****

Between a rock and a hard place

The next night, I walked out of the diner and glanced at the digital numbers on the front of my cell phone. Only 8:30. I still had plenty of time to run by the
Monitor
and pick up some Dear Pru letters. I
drove the short distance,
pulled into the empty parking lot, and killed the motor.

I
dreaded going in to an empty office. But picking up the letters after everyone was gone was the only way to preserve my secret identity. Even though Marge had always told me just to tell people I did some part-time work for the newspaper, she also said not to be specific about what the part-time work entailed.

So I’d gotten used to letting myself in the back
door with the key Marge had given me and finding my way through the darkened offices to the desk where my letters were kept. Still, every time I unlocked this door
,
I thought about Hank Templeton, the former editor. And about his murder. Tonight, as I headed down the hall, I noticed a light shining under the door of the editor’s office.

I shivered. Had Hank left the light on for me?

Since I didn’t believe in ghosts, I hefted my carryall, wondering how much impact it would have on a skull. Not much, since I’d emptied it before I left home. I glanced around the hall. Unless I intended to yank a picture off the wall and beat the intruder over the head, I had few options. I turned to look for a more conventional weapon and
tripped
over a
trash
can.

The office door opened.

“Freeze
!
I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it,” a woman’s voice snarled.

“Don’t shoot!” I threw my arms over my head.

“Jenna?”

“Tiffany? Thank goodness. You scared me to death.”

“Yeah? Well, my heart’s beating a little fast, too.”

“Do you really have a gun?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“Sort of.” She sheepishly extended her hand, with the index finger pointed outward and the others curled in.

“I’ll have to remember that next time I get in a tight spot.” I grinned. “I just came to pick up some Dear Pru letters.”

“I thought you came on Tuesdays
.
”

“I had a late date last night, and you know I can’t come during business hours. There wasn’t a car in the parking lot.”

She motioned to her sweat
suit. “Ricky’s on duty tonight
,
and I was just out for a walk. Thought I’d stop by and catch up on some work.”

I nodded. “I should’ve called you. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Neither of us had a heart attack, so no harm done. Come on in
,
and let’s get some letters.”

As we walked down the hall, she said, “Aunt Marge says the Dear Pru column has soared in popularity since you took it over.
”

“Thanks, I wasn’t sure at first if I could
do it
, but with Carly’s help, and Mama’s, too, actually, I—”

Tiffany stopped and frowned. “I didn’t know your
m
om knew about you being Dear Pru.”

I laughed as I walked on into the office. “She has no idea. But Mama has given us so much good advice over the years that with almost every Dear Pru letter, I remember a nugget of her wisdom to help me answer.” I pulled a manila envelope stuffed full of letters out of the filing cabinet.

“Lucky you.” She stepped inside the office. “I guess I was born a rebel. I’ve never been good at taking my mother’s advice.” She laughed. “Just ask her.” She sat down in the chair near the desk. “Although, you may have gathered that from the other day at the diner.”

“Well
.
 
.
 
.
” I wanted to be diplomatic, not my best talent. “I did get the impression she wanted you to spend more time planning your wedding.” I took several letters off the stack and sat down in the chair beside Tiffany.

“She wants it to be the social event of the season.” She shrugged. “Not me. If it weren’t for Daddy, I’d just elope. What about you? Have you and Alex set a date yet?”

“We’re planning on right around Christmas.” I glanced down at my engagement ring.

She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t tell my
m
other you’re getting married that soon
,
or she’ll be planning your wedding. Or wait
.
 
.
 
.
Do tell her
,
and maybe it’ll get her off my case.”

“I could probably use a wedding planner.” Although truthfully, I agreed with Tiffany. I didn’t need a big social event to be married. Our wedding would be quiet and simple. But just as legal and romantic as a bigger one.

“Jenna?” Tiffany’s normally confident voice was hesitant. “I’ve noticed how well you deal with my mother.”

Shocked, I bit back a protest. Amelia and I dealt as well as a snake and a frog, with me being the frog. I always feared
she
might swallow me whole.

Tiffany continued, oblivious to my amazement. “You know, I was always a disappointment to her. She’s so perfect
,
and I could never live up to that.”

“Well
.
 
.
 
.
” I cleared my throat. “Everyone’s idea of perfection is different. And a child’s perception of her mother sometimes differs from the way others see her.”

“How did you see your mother?”

I thought of my mom playing kickball with us when we were little, taking me to the pool, sitting patiently and proudly through endless swim meets, serving as room mother throughout my elementary years, teaching me to pray, admonishing me to pay attention to the preacher. My mom was my cheerleader, my spiritual advis
e
r, my support. My hero.

“Well
.
 
.
 
.
” I hedged. “My mom’s not your average mom. She’s more like Super Mom.”

“You know, when I came home on holidays, I’d see you and your sister at church with your folks, and I fantasized about being you.”

“You’re kidding. Why?”

She shrugged and looked a little embarrassed. “You got to live at home all time. You weren’t considered a nuisance who had to be sent to boarding school.”

I shook my head. “I’m sure that’s not why they sent you to boarding school. It’s just that they wanted the very best for you because they loved you so much.”

“Is that what you think?” She shot me a pitying look, but I thought there was a hint of hope
,
a
s well
. “They had an odd way of showing it, didn’t they? Actually, Daddy would’ve let me stay home, but Mother talked him out of it.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Positive. When I was little, it was okay. I wasn’t your typical cute toddler, but I was reasonably intelligent. But when I was about six, I hit a growth spurt and gained weight. From then on, I was an embarrassment to Mother. By the time I was a teenager, my weight problem had grown worse and was complicated by that common teen horror, acne. I spent several summers abroad with a nanny. Does that sound like my mother loved me?”

“Teenage years are hard for everyone,” I answered, remembering the turmoil surrounding my parents and Carly. “Sometimes the best thing we can do about them is forgive and forget.”

Tiffany ran her hand through her frizzy hair. “It’s not like I haven’t tried. A long time ago, I decided the best way to deal with her is to be myself, only more so. Hence, no makeup, no fancy clothes, no beauty salons. It kills her. And I’ll let you in on a little secret. I have a whole closet full of other clothes. When I go out of town, I dress and act like everyone else. I’ll never be beautiful like my mother, but I’m passable.”

“Has Ricky seen you in your other guise?” I had to ask.

She laughed. “Oh yes. On a few special occasions, I’ve pulled out my wardrobe stash and gotten fixed up before we
’ve gone
out. Only when we were going out of town, of course. I’ve been to
Dallas
on business several times since we’ve been dating. A couple of times, he let me get him a plane ticket and hotel room, though he wouldn’t stay at the fanc
y
hotel
I stayed at
. He didn’t want to waste my money. And of course, we couldn’t travel down together. I don’t want Mother to have a heart attack, after all.”

“That’s nice of you,” I said dryly.

She smirked. “Anyway, I promised Ricky that when we get married, I’ll stop my little prank. But for now, he thinks it’s a good joke on Mother, too.”

“You and Ricky must have the same sense of humor,” I commented. “Being able to laugh together is a good thing.”

“Yes.” She frowned faintly. “Though sometimes he is a little flippant about things I feel are important.” She hurriedly added, “Not that I’m criticizing him.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” I answered. I could almost feel Amelia at my elbow, urging me on. “Where did you and Ricky meet?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s a crazy story. I hadn’t been back in town long, and Mother insisted on buying me a new car. Of course, the little hybrid I wanted wasn’t good enough for her daughter, so she got me a gas
-
guzzling Hummer. Can you believe it? Anyhow, I was cruising through town when blue lights came on behind me. I pulled over to let the officer chase down whatever dangerous criminal he was after, but it was me. Ricky had just joined the force and didn’t realize who I was.”

I noted that she was as arrogant as Amelia, though in a nicer way.

“When I told him my name, he asked if I was any relation to the mayor. We had a good laugh when he discovered he’d pulled the mayor’s daughter over for speeding.”

“You drive a Hummer?” I asked, remembering the little Toyota Prius she’d been driving the day of the basketball game. As different from a Hummer as
.
 
.
 
.
Tiffany from Amelia.

“No, of course not. I drove that one a couple of weeks just to humor Mother then traded it for a hybrid. Going green is best for the earth, you know.”

“So Ricky asked you out when he stopped you?”

A hint of color flashed across her cheeks. “Actually, I asked him out. The Garden Society had a big do that weekend
,
and I had planned to go alone. He didn’t know many folks in town, so he was glad to go with me. We hit it off so well, we’ve dated ever since. And I think he may be the one for me. I’ve dated some real losers, but I have a good feeling about Ricky. And it will really tick Mother off if I marry a police officer.” She must have realized how that sounded
,
because she grimaced. “That’s just the icing on the cake.”