Relative Chaos (11 page)

"Penelope can handle that," Janice said crisply.

"But I need to clean up," Millie said. "I won't leave my mess for
Poppy"

"Let's make quick work of it, then." Janice slid her watch and
bracelet into a pants pocket and shed her jacket. "Where's the dish
detergent?"

My jaw dropped when she turned to the sink. Janice, doing dishes?
I'd pay to see that.

Millie was shaking her head. "We're not going home"

Janice spun around. "Why ever not?"

"Police orders," Millie said. "Can't go into that house until
they give me the go-ahead. No way, no, ma'am. Isn't that right,
Rae?"

Millie looked at Troxell, her expression hopeful.

Janice gave Troxell the evil eye. "Who are you anyway?"

I jumped in and made introductions, then said, "Detective Troxell,
I'm sure my cousin will understand when you explain that the crime
scene cannot be released yet."

I hoped Troxell would go along with this. Millie's house was sure
to be an even bigger disaster after the cops had sifted through the
place. We couldn't keep Janice away forever, but Millie was clearly
not up to facing this new problem tonight.

Troxell smiled and turned to Janice. "They're right, ma'am. Can't
allow civilians to traipse around my crime scene."

Relief washed over Aunt Millie's face.

"How much longer?" Janice spat.

Troxell shrugged. "Too soon to know."

Millie touched Janice's arm. "It's okay, honey. You can stay here
with me and Poppy."

"Or at the Doubletree," I blurted. "Don't you and Conner usually
stay there when you're in town?"

"Conner's not with me." Janice sidled closer to Millie. "And I
wouldn't dream of leaving Mother at a time like this."

I rolled my eyes.

"Conner's my son-in-law," Millie told Troxell. "He and Janice are
investment bankers on Wall Street."

"Impressive," Troxell said. "Much as I'd like to stay and chat
about life in the Big Apple, it's getting late."

"Let me send some cake home with you." Millie slapped a piece
of aluminum foil over the remaining chocolate cake and shoved the
plate at Troxell. "Thank you so much for everything."

Troxell tucked the evidence bag under one arm and took the cake,
then mocked a salute. "I'll be in touch."

Already needing a break from Janice, I fell in behind the detective
as she headed for the door. "I'll walk you out."

In the driveway, a red Mercedes sat behind Millie's car. Of course,
Janice would rent nothing less.

Troxell turned to me. "What was that all about?"

"Aunt Millie told Janice on the phone that she's turned over a new
leaf-that she is now the epitome of organization."

Troxell laughed. "No, seriously."

"I am serious. Even worse, she wants her house to be totally organized before Janice sees it."

"Then the jig is up," Troxell said. "Your cousin strikes me as a
woman who doesn't take no for an answer."

"They don't call you detective for nothing," I said. "But that's only
one of Janice's bad traits. She's a snake in Bloomingdale's clothing.
I'm not sure why she's here."

"To support her mother?" Troxell said.

"No way," I said. "She's up to something."

"I could pull her in, put her under the bright light."

"How about locking her up for, say, a week?"

"That's asking too much." Troxell headed for her car.

I followed. "Did you find anything interesting at Aunt Millie's?"

"Only this." Troxell indicated the evidence bag.

"And you came here to quiz her?"

Troxell stopped walking and turned around. "I came to tell her
she's free to return home."

"That's all?"

"Should I have another reason?" She raised one eyebrow.

"No. Seems like you could have called her, sent an assistant,
something. You know, to save you the trouble."

"No trouble." Troxell watched me, her face bland.

What if she'd come to my house fishing for information about
Kevin? My shoulders tensed. Had she noticed the photos sitting in
plain sight in the kitchen? Was she acting friendly to throw me off
guard?

Asking more questions might make her suspicious, so I forced a
smile. "Well, enjoy that cake."

"I will. Have fun with your guests."

"Yeah, right."

She got into her car and drove away. I watched until her taillights
disappeared, then rubbed my temples.

This was too much. Kevin. Millie. Now Janice. And why hadn't
Doug called? I unclipped my cell phone and dialed his number. I had
almost given up when he answered on the sixth ring.

"Hey, Pen, you get my message?" He had to shout for me to hear
him over the noise on his end-loud music, laughter, clinking glasses.

"What message?"

"I talked with your aunt an hour ago."

I groaned. "You didn't tell her about Kevin, did you?"

"I'm not an idiot, Pen, despite what you think. I asked her to have
you call me."

"Where are you?" I found myself yelling because he was.

"Club Armadillo," he said.

"Is Kevin there?"

"No, I haven't seen him yet."

"Can you go somewhere quieter to talk?" The rock music that
passes for country these days was giving me an even bigger headache
than I already had.

"Hang on."

I paced the sidewalk for a minute that seemed like an hour. The
noise coming over the phone line receded.

"That better?" he said finally.

"Yes, where's Kevin?"

"I don't know."

"Is he coming to the club?"

"Huh? No, I don't think so."

"I thought you were there to meet him."

"You must have read something into what I said, 'cause I never
said that. Bad habit of yours, Penny"

"If Kevin's not there, then what are you doing there?"

His heavy sigh came over the line. "I needed a drink. And before
you get your panties in a knot, listen to me. I found Kevin's friend
Jojo, the band's bass player. He talked to Kevin this morning and invited him to lunch tomorrow. I'll be there too"

I let out my breath. "Thank God."

"It'll be okay," Doug said in a softer voice. "No matter what anyone says, no matter what they think they heard or saw, our boy had
nothing to do with that guy's murder."

"I know," I said.

"You sound stressed."

"I am. Janice just showed up on my doorstep."

"Cripes," Doug said. "Maybe you should knock back a few yourself."

"Maybe I will."

My front door opened, and light beamed across the lawn. Aunt
Millie stood in the doorway.

"Psst. Poppy? Poppy, where are you?"

"I have to go, Doug. Call me the second you see Kevin."

"I will."

"Call my cell, not the home phone."

"Gotcha."

"And, Doug, thanks." I clicked off.

"I'm here, Aunt Millie." I met her halfway up the walk. "Where's
Janice?"

"In the bathroom." Millie was wringing her hands. "Oh, Poppy,
what now? I can't believe she's here-not that I'm not thrilled to see
her. I am, but, oh, my God. I almost wish Dawn wouldn't have told
her anything, but then-"

"Hold it. Are Dawn and Janice friends?" I couldn't imagine.

"I wouldn't call them friends," Millie said. "Dawn knows Janice,
of course. Her boss did my estate planning."

"That doesn't naturally lead to Dawn calling Janice to gossip
about the body found in your garage."

"Dawn does like to talk," Millie said.

"I know. We've met." None of this made sense to me.

"I don't care how she found out," Millie said. "I care that she'll
know I lied, and she's going to hate me when she sees the house, and
she'll probably turn right around and go home before we even have
a chance to visit."

"She won't hate you, Aunt Millie." I put an arm around her shoulders. "No one would expect your house to be in good shape now. Not
after a police search. Of course they messed everything up. That's
what we'll tell her."

"Janice will know the truth," she said.

I wanted to say, Who cares what Janice thinks? She can turn around
and go back where she came from, and good riddance. But the dejection in Millie's voice broke my heart.

"Don't worry. I'll figure something out."

"Like what?"

"Like you and Janice both stay at the Doubletree the whole time.
You can visit there"

Millie shook her head. "She was just saying how excited she is
about staying in her old room, taking a trip down memory lane."

"Janice?"

"Yes, and it sounds wonderful, but she's not very patient, and then
I saw her drop my house keys into her purse when she thought I
wasn't looking-"

"Wait." I held my hand up like a stop sign. "She stole your
keys?"

Millie reached into her pocket and came out with a fat ring
of keys. "I took them back as soon as she went into the bathroom."

"I can't believe her." I grabbed the keys and stuffed them into my
jeans pocket. What was her rush to get to the house?

"What are you going to do?" Millie said.

I ran my hands through my hair and paced some more. "I don't
know. Maybe hire some moonlighting movers."

Millie's face lit up. "What a good idea. They could take my things
to the storage units."

I put up a hand again. "Don't get too excited. I was thinking out
loud. We'd need an eighteen-wheeler to haul that much stuff, and I
don't know if movers work twenty-four-seven."

"They might." Millie pulled an envelope from her pocket and
handed it to me. "My storage unit keys. There's a card inside with the
address."

Had she set me up? I was exhausted, and part of me wanted to tell
her to keep her danged keys. Then I pictured Janice gloating, saying
how she never believed a word Aunt Millie had said about cleaning
up her mess. I was too wired to sleep anyway. Work would keep my
mind off the cops' search for Kevin.

I took the envelope.

"I'll go see about the house," I said, "as soon as Janice turns in for
the night. But you know she's not likely to sit still. You keep her here,
no matter what. Can you do that?"

Millie grinned as she reached into her pocket for a third time and
came out with another set of keys.

"What are those?" I said.

"Keys to Janice's rental car," she said. "She's not going anywhere."

I spent the rest of the evening avoiding Janice by busying myself
around the house-changing bed linens and cleaning up the kitchen
after Aunt Millie's baking extravaganza, a chore in which Janice was
no longer interested. Instead, my cousin took a shower long enough to
use a month's worth of hot water, then emerged complaining that
my cheap soap would ruin her skin. One look at her makeup-free
face told me she was in for the night. Janice never went out in public
without her war paint.

She nosed around the kitchen and whined that I didn't have the
right coffee or the yogurt she liked for breakfast. I was certain my
sheets wouldn't be the proper thread count for her highness.

After finishing in the kitchen, I took a brief, lukewarm shower and
pulled on my most comfy sweats and tennis shoes. Around eleven,
Janice finally turned in. I clipped back my hair to keep it out of my
way while I worked. Then I grabbed my purse and told Aunt Millie
good night.

"Be careful, Poppy," she said as I was leaving. "There's a killer
on the loose."

"Thanks for the reminder."

Since Doug had a line on Kevin, I had shoved worrying about him
to the back burner and wasn't focused on the murder. Even now that
she'd brought up the dead man, I didn't think I had anything to
worry about. Whoever killed him was long gone, or so I hoped.

I climbed into the Durango and dropped Millie's and Janice's keys
on the console. I wouldn't want to be Aunt Millie when Janice realized the keys were missing, but she had dealt with Janice's tantrums
before, and she could handle whatever came. Pulling out of my driveway, I grinned. Janice would probably think she could snap her fingers and get a taxi. Fat chance out here.

I usually start winding down at this time of night, but the prospect of cleaning up my aunt's place without her around to protest energized me.

My game plan was set. Don't waste time on decision-making or
scrubbing. Pick up and straighten. Toss newspapers and magazines.
Pack the junk Aunt Millie thought she needed into boxes and stack
them outside for hauling to the storage units later. I wasn't fooling
myself-this would be a long, hard haul.

With no time to spare, I sped past road construction barrels on the
freeway. In Aunt Millie's neighborhood, the streets were deserted and
most of the houses dark. Since it was a school night, families with
kids were snoozing peacefully. Odd that Vicki Rhodes' house was lit
up like a Christmas tree. I didn't envy her wrangling with those four
little boys every night, trying to settle them down for bed.

The cops had left crime-scene tape around Aunt Millie's house.
Good. Whoever stashed the body wouldn't be inclined to return if it
appeared the cops were still around. Plus, it would support the story
we told Janice.