Drool Baby (A Dog Park Mystery) (Lia Anderson Dog Park Mysteries) (23 page)

"I figured I could look on her computer and see if she'd been at the Crystal Bridge web site."

Peter was taken aback. As strategies went, it was simple and smart. "What did you find?"

"Nothing. No evidence she'd been at the site. I looked through her directory and her photo albums. Nothing at all strange."

"Huh. It's not conclusive, but it's helpful. I don't want you taking risks like this again. Did anyone see you?"

"Just CarGo, and he can't talk."

"I still want to hear more about this conversation you remembered."

"Is it that important?"

"I won't know until you tell me."

Lia sighed. "Anna was going on about how bad Luthor was for me, and she said Catherine did me a favor when she shot him. She said his death was a gift."

This time Peter's eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. "What else did she say?"

"There's one thing I remember for sure. She said, 'Freedom from rude, selfish people is always a gift.' But that doesn't mean anything, does it?"

He took her hands in his and chafed the palms with his thumbs. "I don't know. But it doesn't make me happy. Normal people value human life over their own
comfort, Lia."

"But this is Anna. She was just trying to get me to stop brooding about Luthor and start being happy with you. She was being nice to you when she said it.
You should be okay with that."

"Still, it was a very odd way to put it, don't you think?" Peter said.

"Not as weird as the stuff Marie says. She's the one who was running around showing off the suicide machine. And what about Terry and his arsenal? Jose and
his taser? Bailey's in a mental ward! All my friends are weird. That's not a criminal offense, except maybe to you."

"That's not fair."

"Do you mind sleeping on the sofa? I don't feel like company tonight."

"Lia, I don't want to leave it like this."

"You don't want? What about what I want?" The tension of Lia's day finally snapped. "I've been playing by your rules for weeks now. I let you into my home.
I have no privacy. I'm keeping my friends out. I'm supposed to act like everything is normal while we secretly pry into my friends' lives, digging up dirt.
And we haven't found out a goddamn thing except that Marie had a hard time as a kid, and now has a very kinky sex life. Oh, and Nadine lost her first
family."

"I know it's rough. I don't know of any other way to protect you."

"You don't know. It's not your friends we're violating. And did you ever think maybe I don't want or need protecting? I feel like I'm being smothered. Do
you have any idea how embarrassed I was that night you called around looking for me?"

"Lia, what do you expect me to do? We still have a murderer out there."

"I don't know that. I don't know what happened to Bailey's meds, but I don't believe any of my friends had anything to do with it. I'm having a really hard
time buying this whole conspiracy you and Jim have cooked up. Bailey's the one who believes in little green men, not me. I can't live like this. You're my
boyfriend, not my father."

Lia started rummaging around in the linen closet.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting you some sheets and a blanket. I want to sleep by myself tonight. I'd rather you went home. But, if you want to guard me so bad, you can do it
from the living room."

"Why so mopey?" Anna asked as she sat down next to Lia on their favorite table.

"I had a fight with Peter last night," Lia grumbled into her coffee.

"I'm so sorry. What was it about?"

"He's a man. Does it have to be about anything?"

"I guess not, when you put it that way. How serious is it?"

"I made him sleep on the couch last night. I'm thinking about telling him he has to go home, remodel or no."

"Do you feel like talking about it?"

"Not really, no." A seed of rebellion took root in Lia's chest. It was time she took her life back. "Are you busy this afternoon?"

"Not today. I was going to put in some daffodil bulbs, but that can wait. What did you want to do?"

"Feel like catching a matinee?"

"I might. Is there something in particular you want to see?"

"Something with loud explosions. Nothing cute. What's in the paper?"

Anna unfolded her paper to the movie ads. They pored over the selection and settled on a heist flick with Robert DeNiro and Matt Damon. Lia arranged to
meet Anna at her house.

"Come early," Anna suggested, "I'll feed you. We don't need to be spending theater prices for junk."

"Go ahead and sit down," Anna said as she went into her kitchen. I'll make us some tea. Do you want a sandwich? I have some nice chicken salad."

"That would be great, on whole wheat, if you have it," Lia said absently. Lia wandered around the room, inspecting Anna's collection of figurines and
tchotkes. She was uncomfortably aware that she'd been in this room the day before, illegally. CarGo tilted his head and eyed her from his corner bed. His
eyebrows were twitching as if he were trying to process profound ideas. Or maybe he was just trying to figure out if he could extort her for another pig's
ear.

"What kind of tea do you want?" Anna called from the kitchen. "I have green tea chai and plum blossom. Lemon ginger, too."

"The chai sounds great."

She heard the hissing of boiling water as the kettle was removed from the stove.

"Do you want milk with your tea, Lia?"

"Yes, please."

She noticed her painting of the pansy was off level, down on the left, and nudged it back straight.

"Have you decided to take your painting home?"

Lia looked up to see Anna standing in the doorway, a cup of tea in her hand. "Oh, huh uh. It doesn't seem to want to hang straight. I was trying to level
it," Lia said.

"Oh," Anna laughed, "always the artist. Don't worry about that right now. Sit down and have your lunch."

Lia plopped down on the sofa and dove into her sandwich. "I am really looking forward to taking a break this afternoon."

Anna nibbled delicately at her own sandwich. "So what is Renee up to these days? How is the project going?"

"I'll know when we pull the mold off. It's going to be a few more days. I can't stand the wait. This chicken salad is really fantastic."

"It's the curry. This is all so interesting. First it was just pavers, now it's a huge sculpture. I can't wait to see what you do next."

"I have a feeling I'm going to sleep for a month after I'm done with this. Or lay out in the back yard and read romance novels."

"You can't possibly need romance novels with Peter around."

"I may not have the energy for romance when this is done. I may swear off any activity that requires physical exertion. Peter may have to pretend he's a
necrophiliac. Maybe I'll need to read a few zombie romances to get in the mood. Better yet, I'll have him read them to me. Less effort involved. That is,
if I've forgiven him by that point."

Anna changed the subject. "I know you wanted to see a movie, but I've got another idea."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Pomegranate margaritas in the afternoon are a nice way to handle fighting with a boyfriend. Especially with a couple of female friends. We could call
Marie and Nadine, see if they're available."

"You're on."

"What are we drinking to?" Marie asked as she pulled out her chair on the patio at The Painted Fish. The afternoon was breezy and warm, just right for
sitting out in the sun.

"Lia has been fighting with Peter," Anna said. "She wanted to go to the Esquire. I thought this would be so much better. I was hoping Nadine could come,
too, but she's busy this afternoon. She did say she'd stop by if she had time."

"I don't know, Anna," Lia said. "Two hours staring at Matt Damon could cure a lot of ills."

"Oh," Marie said, "but you'd feel so dirty afterwards."

"Would not," Lia said. "Anyway, alcohol never cures anything."

"Maybe not," Anna said, "but at least you'll forget you're sick. You never mentioned what you were fighting about. We're going to get you drunk so you'll
spill everything."

Nick brought out the icy pitcher and set it down in the middle of the table. "Drink up, Ladies," he said. "Sure you don't want anything to eat with that?"

"Better bring some nori fries," Lia said. "We'll need something to soak up some of this."

"I want all the smutty details," Marie said as she poured the drinks.

"What? You don't want the clean ones?" Lia said in mock affront. "I'm afraid all I have are clean ones. You're just going to have to make do."

"Oh, all right." Marie pouted. "I just thought you two were going to spice up my life for a minute. No phone calls from an old lover? No requests for a
three-way?"

Lia giggled. "Last time Peter said something about a three-way, we were passing Skyline Chili."

Marie rolled her eyes. "I'm looking for something hot, and she gives me Skyline. You do realize, that stuff bears no resemblance to chili. It has negative
alarms."

"Let us not digress," Anna said. "Lia, since I'm picking up the tab, you must sing for your supper. You're the only one with a man . . . um, romance, right
now. Marie and I must live vicariously through you."

"It's not all that exciting. It's just, well, I've been taking care of myself for a long time, and he's too protective. He's telling me what I should do
and I don't like it. And I like living by myself. I'm not used to sharing my space."

"That pig!" Marie said with an ironic expression.

Lia giggled again. "Peter isn't a pig. He's old fashioned, but he's not a pig."

"I thought we were drinking in the afternoon because you'd had a fight with a man. In that case, he's a pig. It's automatic," Marie insisted.

"Perhaps, just for the afternoon, he can be an old fashioned pig?" Anna suggested.

"Hmm," Lia mused. "What makes a pig old fashioned?"

"Well," Marie offered, "a contemporary pig won't perform oral sex because they claim they've got a repetitive motion injury of the tongue."

"Marie!" Anna interrupted.

"But an old fashioned one won't do it because it's unsanitary and leads to damnation," she finished. "So, is he an old fashioned pig?"

Lia made a prim mouth and batted her eyelashes. "A lady doesn't tell. Absolutely no comment."

"We can't be ladies," Marie pointed out. "We're drinking in the afternoon."

I don't think that rationale is going to get our Lia to divulge her secrets, Marie," Anna said.

"You're probably right. So what bad things do you want to tell us about him?" Marie asked.

"Geezelpete, I don't know. Otherwise, he's just so . . . nice."

"He's nice? You're complaining because he's nice?" Marie asked.

"Shocking, isn't it?" Anna said. "How dare he be decent."

"He's always, well, there. Like he could just hang out with me all the time and that's enough to make him happy. I'm not used to it. I don't know if I want
to hang out with him all the time. And I think he has the china pattern picked out."

"That brute. Before you know it, he'll be buying you a washing machine," Anna said dryly.

"That's just it. I don't need a washing machine."

Anna shook her head. "Well, you obviously have to tell him. He must go. Tell him to go someplace good, like Newark."

"Oh, Anna, quit it," Lia said. "Help me out here, Marie. I bet you know what I'm talking about."

"If I get this right, he's got a plan, or at least it seems like he has a plan, but you don't know if you're on board, and you're feeling cramped because
of it?"

"Yes! That's it! I'm going to tell that to my therapist next time I see her and she's going to think I'm so insightful."

"What? I don't get an attribution?"

"I'm stealing it. Sue me." Lia eyed the dregs of the pitcher. "Looks like I'm tipsy. And I still have my secrets."

"What do you think, Anna? Is it time for the bamboo shoots?" Marie asked.

"I give up. I think Lia may just get to keep her affairs private for now," Anna said. "I've got a couple errands I have to run. Do you girls mind if I take
off? I'll take care of the tab with Nick." She gave Lia a hug. "Hang in there, it'll work out." Then she left.

Lia and Marie continued to nibble on the now-cold nori fries. "I'm really being a bit of an ass, aren't I?" Lia asked. She sipped her water, having
finished her margarita.

"Nah. It's easy to feel manipulated when you know someone wants more from you than you're ready to give."

"I don't think he's trying to pressure me. I just think he knows what he wants and I don't, and it feels like pressure. And this remodel is going on much
longer than I thought."

"You know, I'm jealous of you."

"Oh, Marie, I'm such a bad friend. We spent all this time talking about me, and none talking about you. You never talk about your girlfriends. You can if
you want to."

"Don't worry about it, the entertainment value of watching you squirm is worth it. We've done an excellent job of wasting the afternoon. You ready to blow
this popsicle-stand?"

They gave each other a tipsy hug in front Marie's car on Springrove Avenue. Lia continued to the corner of Springrove and Cooper, where she'd parked her
Volvo. She turned around and waved good-bye.

"Damn," Peter muttered to himself as he looked at his cell phone display. Jim. Not Lia. He pressed the "accept" button and held the phone to his ear.
"What's up, Jim?"

"Are you busy?"

"Just finishing up some reports. You haven't talked to Lia, have you? I've been trying to reach her all afternoon, but her phone's either dead or off."

"I haven't seen her since this morning. I was just calling to let you know that I heard from Trees. He said he hasn't been able to work on our project for
more than a week, but he's back on it tonight."