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Authors: Gayle Roper

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BOOK: Fatal Deduction
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“I can’t take just this,” she’d cried as she looked in dismay at the half-empty platter she’d arranged the brownies on.

“Is there another box of mix? Make more.” I pulled the baked beans out of the oven.

“There isn’t time!”

“Then put them on a smaller plate,” I suggested. “It’ll look like more.”

She grabbed a luncheon plate.

“Not the Wedgwood!”

She gave me a look. “Easy, Mom.” She put the Wedgwood back in the cupboard.

“There are paper plates over there.” I pointed to a cabinet.

“Paper?” Her voice dripped disdain.

Three days and already she was disparaging paper plates? “Paper,” I said firmly.

She complied. “Still too little.” She brightened. “I know!” She grabbed a bag of vinegar-and-salt chips.

So we sallied forth, food in hand, hair gilded and curled. As soon as Chloe put her food down, she ran to find Jenna. I didn’t blame
her. The lane was crawling with adults she’d never seen before. I was a bit overwhelmed myself.

I took a plate and began helping myself to the glorious bounty. I wanted some of everything, so I took little dibs and dabs, filling my plate to the point I feared its collapse.

As I turned away from the feast, I saw Drew Canfield emerge from his home, dish in hand, Jenna and Chloe on his heels. In his shorts and polo shirt, he looked rugged and very unscholarly. I smiled. He didn’t look very much like a cook either, and I couldn’t help wondering what he’d made. Jenna carried a nine-by-thirteen cake pan.

“You’re drooling, Elizabeth.”

I spun at Tori’s mocking words.

“Though he is certainly handsome. A hunk.”

I shrugged. Never would I admit to my sister that I felt some sort of connection with him after our early morning experience with murder. “I’m not drooling, and the world is full of handsome men.”

“True, true.” She looked at me with that disdainful smile that made me squirm every time I saw it. It always preceded a barb.

“But sadly none of them are yours.” She shook her head in mock sorrow. “That’s what comes of trying to pretend you’re a virgin all these years.”

I tried not to flinch. The last thing I wanted was to let Tori see how her taunts hurt. “Don’t, Tori. Let’s just enjoy the night without any pettiness, okay?”

“Why, honey, I wouldn’t want to hurt you for the world, bless your heart.”

Like I didn’t know “bless your heart” was a euphemism for “don’t believe a word I’ve just said.”

She sauntered away, hips swaying, to talk with Tim and Mark.
She was gorgeous in red cropped pants, her toenails, visible in her stiletto sandals, a matching red. Her white tight tee was cropped so that the gem in her bellybutton—a real diamond or a cubic zirconium? And wouldn’t the loan shark like to know?—winked when it caught the setting sun.

I had on navy slacks and a red tee neatly tucked in, a white belt, and white flat sandals, my nod to the patriotic nature of our party.

Bling and bland. That was the Keating twins. Well, at least my hair looked good tonight. Funny, I hadn’t thought it looked bad until Tori showed up all highlighted and lovely. I sighed and went to get something to drink from the coolers filled with ice and beverages.

I straightened with a Coke in my hand and found myself face to face with Drew. I gestured toward the coolers. “Quite a selection.”

He glanced at the coolers but made no move to get a beverage.

I smiled. If he didn’t want something to drink, maybe he had sought me out. Now there was a lovely thought. And where was Tori when you wanted her to notice something? “I want to thank you for being so helpful the other morning.”

He gave a little nod but didn’t smile back.

I plowed on. “It was very nice of you to check on us that afternoon too. My sister appreciated your concern.”

“Speaking of your sister—”

My smile tightened to a wince.

“Jenna tells me she arranged for the hair job.”

Uh-oh. His tone of voice made it clear he wasn’t happy with the “hair job.”

At that moment the girls came rushing over.

“Mark and Tim have invited us to come up on their roof to watch the fireworks.” Chloe was so excited she vibrated.

“Philadelphia has big, huge, awesome fireworks because this is where it all started,” Jenna bubbled. “Tim says.”

I glanced at Mark and Tim, sitting in a pair of padded lounge chairs in front of their house. Tori sat on the foot of Mark’s chair, talking animatedly with them. The men each held a plate and were making their way through an impressive mound of food, nodding at Tori’s remarks, pausing in their eating every so often to comment. Mark saw me watching and waved a fork at me. Tori turned, saw Drew beside me, and raised an eyebrow. I made believe I didn’t see it, though I was smugly glad she saw him beside me.

“You’re invited too, Mom.” Chloe, no dummy, picked up on my cautious reaction to the invitation from two men I didn’t know. I was sure Tim and Mark were gay and therefore not interested in Chloe in that sense, but still, I didn’t know them. And this was the city, home of mayhem and murder, one of which I’d already encountered.

“And you too, Dad.” Jenna bent for a soda, and the blond streak that began at the hairline over her left eye and flowed across and down to flip at her chin fell forward over her cheek. She straightened with a bounce, a bottle of root beer in her hand. “They have a clear sightline, and we should bring our own chairs if we want. I don’t think we have chairs, at least not here, but who cares? Everybody comes. Isn’t that cool?”

“Definitely cool,” I agreed. “A real treat!”

Drew grunted something that could have meant anything, but Jenna seemed happy with his response.

With a wave the girls raced off to the food table, where they each grabbed a pack of Butterscotch Krimpets. The prepackaged generation, passing up all the great homemade goodies for assembly-line sweets, though there was no question that such goodies didn’t get
any better than Tastykakes. Chloe’s blond hair gleamed in the lights shining up and down the street. The highlighting and the new cut made her look about five years older, a fact that dragged at my heart. I didn’t want her to grow up too fast. I wanted her to enjoy being young with a relatively uncomplicated life.

Drew’s eyes followed his daughter. “Did either of you ever think of asking me what I thought about dying a thirteen-year-old’s hair?”

I glanced over at Tori. I longed to say, “Yell at my sister,” but I didn’t. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Don’t let it happen again”
hung unspoken in the air.

“I think it looks cute,” I said with what I hoped was a charming smile that would defuse the moment.

He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “She was cute before. Cuter.”

“Drew, it’s only hair.” Through my years of mothering I’d learned the value of picking your wars. A bit of dye wasn’t worth a war when real issues like sexual purity and dressing decently and telling the truth needed to be addressed.

“My daughter’s hair.”

“It’ll grow out. And I wasn’t home when she had it done.”

As soon as that lame-sounding excuse left my mouth, I could have kicked myself. It was true, but it sounded as if I was defending myself—which I guess I was.

“And if you’d been there?”

“I think I’d have remembered to call.”

He made that grunting sound again. “‘The absent are never without fault, nor the present without excuse.’”

I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth and stared at him.

He flushed. “Sorry. Ben Franklin. I do that all the time according to Jenna. Quote him, I mean.”

I nodded. I thought the quote absolved me of responsibility for Jenna’s hair though I wasn’t one hundred percent certain. “I’ll mention to Tori about checking with you first if something else comes up.”

“She’s planning to do something else?” He sounded appalled. “What? Pierce Jenna’s navel?”

I thought of Tori’s abdominal ornament. Even as the thought of Chloe with such a piercing made my blood run cold—she was just too young—I couldn’t help grinning at Drew’s expression. “I don’t think Tori has other plans, but a navel ring wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“No?” He rubbed his eyes. “You must think I’m going overboard here, but I worry about her growing up too fast.”

“Don’t worry. I understand completely. Being solely responsible for a kid, especially a girl kid, must be very scary for a man. It’s sure scary for me.”

He looked at me in surprise. “Jenna told you about her mom?”

“No, she told Chloe, who told me.”

“‘Keep your eyes wide open before marriage, half shut afterwards.’ B. Franklin, printer.” He sighed. “Not that the advice did me any good.” He turned and walked toward the food table, stopping to speak with Tim and Mark on the way, undoubtedly checking the validity of the fireworks invitation.

As I watched him go, I wondered at the woman who painted her hair red and green and rode off on the back of a motorcycle with some guy. Drew was not a man to be easily left.

I blinked. Now why did I think that? I knew he had a caring if somewhat overreacting heart as far as Jenna was concerned. That
made him worthy if slightly
stuffy
. And he was good-looking and had a keen mind. At least I assumed he had a keen mind. I tried to think of some example where I’d witnessed his mental agility. After all, he was a college professor and a Ben Franklin scholar. All professors and scholars were keen, right?

Tinksie wandered up, and we talked about living on this lane, steeped in Olde Philadelphia and situated in the middle of modern Philadelphia.

“I imagine everyone is as avid a collector of antiques as Aunt Stella was,” I said. “How could you put modern pieces in these homes?”

“Maxi, our star’ of stage and screen, manages.” Her tone was dry, and I laughed. She was right; Maxi and antiques didn’t go together.

Tinksie glanced at Stella’s house. “Stella’s collection is one of the best. She and Andrew loved going antiquing. They traveled up and down the East Coast searching for just the right pieces.”

“Andrew?” Aunt Stella had a boyfriend I’d never heard of?

“Stella’s significant other.” Tinksie got a faraway look in her eyes. “They were together for the better part of forty years.”

“Forty years? And they never married?” I’d bet anything that Mom and Nan didn’t know about Andrew. If they had, I’d have known. It would have been a family tidbit thoroughly chewed over, especially the not-married part. Oh, the spleen that could have been vented.

“They couldn’t marry. Andrew was already married,” Tinksie said with calm acceptance. “Daughter of his law firm’s senior partner. He couldn’t divorce her, and she wouldn’t divorce him.”

Was I, the unwed mother of a thirteen-year-old, the only person who thought such a situation was ridiculous? “Aunt Stella didn’t mind?”

“Uh-uh. I think she liked it that way. She had her freedom, her job, and she had Andrew several nights a week. He showered her with most of the lovely things you see in her place. In fact, he bought her the house.”

I blinked.
Yowzah!

“He loved buying her things. It was so sweet.”

“I wonder what his wife thought of the situation.” I always identified with the injured party. After all, I had a history as such a person.

“Who knows?” Tinksie said as if it didn’t matter. “Stella was happy, and she was my friend, and that’s what counted to James and me.”

Not
right vs. wrong
but
happy vs. unhappy
.

“We were so sad for Andrew when she died.” Tinksie sighed. “Poor man. He was here day and night at the end. James invited him tonight, but he couldn’t face coming without Stella.” She sniffed as she looked up and down the street. “He was right. It isn’t the same without her.”

With a sad little wave, she wandered off to talk to someone else, and I pondered the new information about my aunt and wondered what Andrew’s last name was.

I noticed Tim and Mark stand and fold their chairs. They gave a wave, and people began to follow them down the narrow opening between their house and Tinksie’s. Chloe and Jenna danced up.

“Come on, Mom.” Chloe grabbed my hand and began pulling me. I glanced at my watch. Nine o’clock. Dusk was falling, and soon it would be full dark. I let her lead me down the alley, lit by a lamppost at the far end. We stepped out in the men’s backyard, a lovely garden fragrant with roses.

“They’re Mark’s hobby,” Tim said as he saw me bend to sniff
one. “He has a green thumb, but I’m not allowed to touch even one little bud. I am the kiss of death to anything flowering. When Stella and Andrew had us to dinner, I wasn’t allowed to even breathe on her plants.” He grinned, obviously not distressed at all. “I’m a computer geek. As I always tell Mark, I’m useful.”

I was laughing as we climbed the steps to the men’s flat roof. I was surprised to discover a lawn up there with a patio and multiple container gardens. The girls were enchanted.

“But what if we all fall through?” Chloe whispered. “This is an awful lot of weight up here.”

Tinksie leaned in. “They’ve had special supports put in to bear the weight. Not very consistent with the era of the house, but it sure is lovely on a summer evening when the heat hangs in the close confines of our yards.”

“Hey, Dad!” Jenna waved violently. “Over here.”

Drew made his way to us, excusing himself from Maxi, who watched him go with hungry eyes. Maxi was no dummy.

“You’ve got an admirer.” I couldn’t help teasing him.

He rolled his eyes.

“You don’t want to get mixed up with her, Dad. She’s not suitable stepmother material.”

“Jenna, I don’t think one conversation of five minutes’ duration is reason enough to become worried. Besides, she’s not my type.”

“Yeah,” Jenna said. “She’s too old. Besides, she’s the type that would send me away to boarding school.”

“You’ve been watching
The Sound of Music
again,” Drew said.

“Nope.
The Parent Trap
. Lindsay Lohan when she was little and cute.”

“Love that movie,” I said. “Only it’s Dennis Quaid I like. Great smile.”

“Huh,” Drew said.

BOOK: Fatal Deduction
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