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Authors: Mary Jane Maffini

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BOOK: Closet Confidential
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He clamped his new teeth on the corner and chewed away happily.
“He sure does.” I laughed. “While you two are enjoying story time, how about I get us some coffee?”
“That would be lovely. I forget what it’s like to get waited on a bit.”
Nick, Nick, Nick
, I thought,
better pull up your socks.
I could hear Pepper reading the text to Little Nick as I made a pot of her favorite Kona blend. When I headed back in with two steaming mugs, the door opened. Nick stuck his big handsome empty head in the front door. He swaggered into the room. Being a father hadn’t hurt Nick’s figure. He still looked good in his uniform, and as always, he was well aware of that. “Hi, babe, thought I’d come by and say hi to my girl.”
Pepper scowled. She knew Nick would have spotted my Miata in the driveway.
“Well, hey, Charley. What brings you here?”
“I wanted to hang out with Pepper and the baby for a bit.”
“You’re looking good.”
Honestly, Nick had the brains of a shoelace.
“I can’t get over how terrific Pepper looks. A lot of women would be jealous.”
“I guess.” Nick scratched his head.
“And I wanted some advice from Pepper, too. There was an accident a few months back. Anabel Beauchamp.”
Nick’s face clouded. What was behind that cloud, I wondered. He muttered, “I remember her. Good-looking chick. That was too bad.”
“Right. Her mother thinks—”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Her mom? The model? Now she’s hot!”
He seemed immune to the glares that both Pepper and I were shooting at him. You would have thought he’d have been rolling on the floor in agony. I decided it must be great to be as oblivious as Nick was. You’d never worry about anyone, unless of course, you thought they were
hot
.
As if I hadn’t heard, I said, “
Mrs.
Beauchamp thinks that someone murdered Anabel, and I wanted to get Pepper’s opinion. I’m glad to hear that there’s nothing—”
Nick scratched his blond head. “Huh. Murdered?”
I added patiently, “And I guess there’s nothing—”
Nick nodded. “You know, I was a first responder when she died.”
“He was pretty shaken.” Pepper stroked his hand. “He had nightmares for weeks.”
“Ah come on, babe. I didn’t have nightmares.”
Of course, Monahan men wouldn’t have nightmares.
Pepper clamped her mouth shut. As annoying as Nick was, she probably hadn’t intended to diminish him in front of me.
I steered away from the nightmares. “I’m sorry to hear that you were the first to arrive. That would be rough for anyone.”
Nick’s mind seemed elsewhere, remembering the accident perhaps. He kept nodding like a bobble head.
I found myself wishing I was far away. “Gotta run. Great seeing the three of you.”
Nick snapped back to the present. “I thought there was something funny about the way she died, but it turned out there wasn’t. Just an accident. That’s all.”
Now why didn’t I believe him?
3
Ditch your mismatched hangers. Invest in inexpensive sturdy hangers, all the same color and size. Your closet will instantly look neater and more organized.
Sunday night was party night in our little two-unit enclave. The attendees were, as usual, Jack, Truffle, and Sweet Marie. It was Jack’s turn to get the party food. Sure, he doesn’t cook and keeps the overstock from his bicycle shop in the kitchen of his first-floor unit, but he has a talent for ordering out. I was the last to arrive, and it looked as though they’d started the party without me. The Ben & Jerry’s had been in the car for a while, but at least it hadn’t turned into a puddle.
I puffed up the stairs to my apartment in the converted Victorian home that Jack had grown up in. I was met by the dogs. They barked on principle and hurled themselves at the Hannaford’s bag and the ice cream. “Be quiet and try to remember who feeds you.”
Speaking of food, I sniffed the air.
I’d been hoping for pizza.
Or a shawarma platter.
Even sushi.
But I was happy to settle for Chinese. The Kowloon has excellent food. Jack always buys enough for an army, so lunch tomorrow would be taken care of with leftovers. Extra points to the man.
Jack and I were working on rebuilding our companionable relationship, which had taken a pounding last fall. Jack had also taken a bullet. We were each slathered in guilt over the events leading up to that. I supposed that time would take care of those emotions and we could get back to the easy carefree way we’d always been. In the meantime, we were both far more polite than we’d ever been. I was looking forward to our post-politeness period, when we could go back to trading insults and stealing each other’s food. We weren’t there yet.
The dogs were very excited to see the jumbo box of Cheerios. Low in calories and small, they worked well for portly little pooches that required a lot of food-based positive reinforcement to be good citizens and not bark. “Quiet” was the word of the week. Too bad I was the only one who understood what it meant.
Jack stuck his head out of the kitchen. His hair was its usual spiky disarray, and his latest Hawaiian shirt looked as though he might have slept in it. Lucky for him, he’s one of those tall rangy people whose clothes always look good on them, regardless of wrinkles or whatever. “I’ve been working on the training with Truffle and Sweet Marie. I know you’re worried about the retake of their Therapy Dogs evaluation.”
“Worried doesn’t begin to cover it, Jack. I noticed they barked at me when I came in. I believe they’re actually getting worse.”
“Hysterical then. I didn’t want to come right out and say it.”
“I am not hysterical. It’s a serious goal and having them bark all the time is hard on the nerves.”
“They’re dogs. They bark. Get over it. I bought a double General Tso’s chicken. You want lots?”
“Lots is good.”
“Moo goo gai pan?”
“Absolutely.”
“So do you want white rice or fried rice?”
“Both. And any other happy carbohydrate you have hanging around. I hope there’s plenty of MSG, too.”
I squeezed past him to tuck the Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer. Good thing it starts out hard as a rock. At least the two of us could still fit in my tiny galley kitchen. People have been telling me now that I’m past thirty (a mere matter of months) I won’t be able to eat the way I always have. So I have to make every junk meal matter.
I ducked into the bedroom and quickly changed into my frog pajamas. I took the minute to hang up my skirt neatly and toss the no-longer crisp white blouse into the hamper. The red platforms went on the shoe rack. Now I could relax.
I picked up the chopsticks and drinks on the way back to the living room before Jack arrived at the coffee table with our plates heaped high. I fed Truffle and Sweet Marie their kibble, while he was getting things settled, safely. Jack and I knew that all it would take was a random blink for them to pilfer our food. That’s why the containers stayed in the kitchen and Jack served.
“Truffle and Sweet Marie will do well the next time. People are rooting for them. Are there enough garlic spare ribs for you?”
Apparently everyone in Woodbridge knew that the dogs had blown their first evaluations. Of course, they always did everything that Jack asked them and did it right the first time and every time.
“I appreciate it, Jack. It’s not that they haven’t learned all the commands. They have. They either bark at the other dogs or the person doing the evaluation or both. I believe I have explained this a hundred times.”
“They didn’t bark at me.”
“That’s because you’re family.”
“And anyway, they have to behave for me, because I’m the person who’s going to take them to visit people and cheer them up. We can’t be barking in a hospital or a seniors’ residence. Do you hear that, you turkeys?”
But Truffle and Sweet Marie were now in the tiny galley kitchen staring up at the containers from the Kowloon. They looked like they might be hatching a plot. But at least they weren’t barking.
“You seem down, Charlotte.”
“I guess I am. I’m thinking about Anabel Beauchamp, and how one day she’s happy and beautiful and helping people and making the world a better place and the next day she’s dead.” I snapped my fingers. “Gone. Like that.”
“I knew her, too. That was very bad.”
“Remember I told you I was doing a closet job for Lorelei? Seven closets jammed with high-end goods?”
“You didn’t say who for. But I guess I should have figured it out. Who else would have seven closets? Sort of our local glamour queen. Would you call her a celebrity?”
“I don’t know. I’ve known her as long as I can remember. She and my mother had a strange, love/hate relationship. At first I thought she was deluded by grief. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe, she’s just—”
“Huh. Are you going to eat the rest of that General Tso’s chicken?” This came as no surprise. Jack took a lot of calories to keep that rangy frame of his filled.
“Yes I am, and exactly what do you mean ‘huh’?”
“It’s an expression.”
“It’s an expression that means ‘I think that’s a crock.’ ”
“I—”
“Don’t bother to deny it.”
“I am denying it. It’s a speech filler, like, ‘um’ or ‘like.’ ”
“Is not.”
“Is.”
“Listen, Jack. We’re getting our groove back, but you can’t play word games with me.”
“Okay, fine. Huh! It means in this case, don’t go finding more trouble, Charlotte. You almost got killed last time. And the time before and . . .”
“And you took a bullet to save me. I am very grateful and sorry I dragged you into it, Jack. You take the chicken.”
“It’s not about the chicken, Charlotte. It’s about you living a normal life without murders in it.”
“I’m trying. These are my clients, and they, well, she brought it up.”
“And you should let it go.”
“Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like better. And I think I can. Anabel’s father said there was nothing odd in the way she died. He thinks this is the form that Lorelei’s grief is taking. What I have to do is get enough information to reassure her.”
“Must be awful for the parents.”
“The pits. Anyway, I had already decided that there was nothing to it. A grief-stricken mother seeking answers, although there’s nothing high-strung about Lorelei. So I asked Pepper what she thought.”
“You saw Pepper? And the little dude?”
“Yes, today and—”
“Did you ever see a baby so cute?”
Here’s where I was in an awkward moment. I don’t mind babies. But I am not captivated by them. For one thing, they all look alike. Give me a toddler any day. Naturally, I would have cut out my tongue before I admitted this.
I tried a neutral comment. “He’s cute all right.”
“Unbelievable,” Jack said.
I upgraded my end of the conversation to say something sincere. “Pepper wanted that baby so much. She seems happy.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” Jack said.
Well, I for one wouldn’t be. Particularly if Nick the Stick came as part of the package. I felt a chill. Better to let it go. The thing was, of all my baby-crazy friends, Jack turned out to have the worst case. I’d learned to change the subject, early and often.
“I figured Pepper would be in the know, and sure enough, she had even been to the funeral.”
“So was I,” Jack said. “St. Jude’s was overflowing. Everyone liked Anabel.”
“And Pepper said to her knowledge there was nothing untoward about her death. Tragic, but an accident.”
“That’s good.”
“It was. I need to know how to deal with Lorelei. Harry seems to humor her. Maybe I need to, too, but if she’s going to badger me to do something about this death, then—”
Jack’s level blue eyes met mine. “Then you tell her you’re not going to. Period. No arguments.”
BOOK: Closet Confidential
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