Read Coffee, Tea, or Murder? Online

Authors: Jessica Fletcher

Coffee, Tea, or Murder? (27 page)

BOOK: Coffee, Tea, or Murder?
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“Or marry him?” Seth said.
Kathy sighed deeply.
“How many times has your sister been married?” Charlene asked.
“Let me see,” Kathy said, counting on her fingers. “Four—I think! No, five.”
Everyone had an opinion and a comment to make about Wilimena’s penchant for tying the knot, but we stifled the temptation to express them. Wilimena’s multiple marriages obviously satisfied a need of hers, and who were we to judge?
“Lovely dinner, as usual, Jessica,” Seth said as they prepared to leave.
“Simple,” I said.
“Always the best kind,” Seth opined.
I saw them to the door and waved goodbye as they navigated a narrow path I’d shoveled through the snow dumped by the latest storm, and got into their vehicles. I locked up behind them, went to the kitchen and tidied up before undressing for bed and slipping into a fresh pair of pajamas, a robe, and slippers. I’d become sleepy during the latter part of the evening, but now found myself wide-awake. I added a log to the fireplace and sat in front of the yellow-orange flames casting pleasant shafts of light and shadow over the room. What consumed my thinking was, of course, Kathy Copeland’s story about her sister’s disappearance in Alaska. Had I been rude in not responding with enthusiasm to her suggestion that she accompany me on my Alaskan trip? I was certainly sympathetic to her worries, and her determination to do what she could to find Wilimena.
I suppose a sense of urgency was lacking in my mind because of Wilimena’s history. I’d met her on a number of occasions when she’d come to Cabot Cove to visit her sister. Wilimena was a larger-than-life character, flamboyant and glamorous, so unlike Kathy, who was the salt of the earth, and dressed and acted like it. My friend wore flannel shirts, jeans, and workman’s boots most of the time. She was a master gardener and excellent cook, and enjoyed the simple pleasures of a good book, a hike in the woods, or a fish fry down on the beach. She’d never married, which surprised me. Somewhere out there was a man who was missing out on a first-rate wife.
Wilimena, on the other hand, was flashy in a big-city sort of way, fond of glittery dresses that showed off her splendid figure, lots of jewelry, elaborate hairdos of varying hues, and a heavy, albeit effective use of makeup. Wilimena was, Kathy once told me, the younger of the sisters but only by a few years. Despite Wilimena’s over-the-top personality, which could quickly wear you down, she was personable and likable, which her numerous husbands had obviously recognized, too.
I was pondering the events of the evening when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Jessica? It’s Kathy.”
“Oh, I’m glad you’re home safe. How were the roads?”
“Not bad. Seth’s a careful driver. He was a dear to offer to bring me.”
“He’s a dear about so many things.”
“That he is. Jessica. Listen, I’m calling because I feel terrible about having suggested I go with you to Alaska.”
“Why would you feel terrible?” I asked. “It was a sound suggestion. It’s just that—”
“It was pushy of me, Jessica, and I apologize.”
“No apologies needed, Kathy. As a matter of fact—”
“Yes?”
“I was just sitting here thinking about that very thing.”
“You were?”
“Yes, and I think an apology is due from my end, too.”
“For heaven’s sake, why, Jessica?”
“Because you’re obviously in need of some answers to Wilimena’s disappearance, and taking the same cruise that she took might provide them. And, as Mike Cunniff said, I do seem to have a penchant for getting to the bottom of things. Besides, having company would be good for me. So, Kathy, I would be pleased to have you join me on the cruise.”
“You would?”
“Yes, I would. I think you’d better call Susan Shevlin and see if she can get you space on the ship. It is, after all, very last minute.”
“I’ll do it first thing in the morning. You’re sure, Jessica?”
I laughed. “Yes, I’m sure, Kathy. Get a booking in the morning, and let’s meet for lunch to discuss the trip.”
“Wonderful! Thanks so much, Jessica.”
“My pleasure, Kathy. Now it’s time for this lady to get to bed. See you tomorrow at Mara’s. Twelve-thirty okay?”
“I’ll be there.”
The conversation with Kathy, and the decision I’d made, lifted the veil of ambivalence I’d been feeling, allowing fatigue once again to settle in. There’s nothing like taking action when something unresolved is hanging over your head. I fell asleep quickly, with a smile on my face.
BOOK: Coffee, Tea, or Murder?
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