Read Still Life in Brunswick Stew Online

Authors: Larissa Reinhart

Tags: #Mystery, #humor, #cozy, #Humour, #Romance, #cozy mystery, #southern mystery, #humorous mystery, #mystery series

Still Life in Brunswick Stew (23 page)

BOOK: Still Life in Brunswick Stew
8.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
TWENTY-FIVE

One nice thing about rich folks’ homes are the well-maintained landscaping equipment. Which is why I trusted the trellis climbing the wall alongside the deck to carry my weight. The trellis appeared an arms-length away from a downspout, so I figured between the two, one of them would help me shimmy to the yard below. A rose climbed the trellis, dotting the wall with Carmine pink blooms and deep Prussian green leaves. The gardener had banked on that rose growing fairly high, for he had built the trellis for growth past the second story.

Between the deserted yard and the windowless pool house, I figured I could clamber down and dart over unseen. And then...well, I’d get creative.

I pulled the glass table to the side of the balcony and used it to step onto the high railing. I had been blessed with no fear of heights or other phobias many people held. Of course, those fears might counter foolish moves like climbing on trellises, but at the moment, I took my lack of inhibitions and put them to use.

Stepping from the table to the deck railing, I reached to grasp the edge of the wooden lattice and praised the gardener for nailing the thin wood into the side of the house.

I swung out and grabbed the trellis with the other hand. My flip-flops scrambled for a foothold. If only I had realized I’d spend my afternoon scaling walls, I would have worn my boots. Hindsight always dresses better than foresight.

I kicked the flip-flops to the bushes below, squeezed my toes between the crisscrossing slats, and hung there for a moment. My arms started to ache. I stared hard at my hands gripping the flimsy wood and ordered them to move.

Hand over hand, I inched down the trellis. When my foot brushed leaves, I smiled knowing I had achieved about five feet of progress. But when I tried to stuff my toes into the slatted hole, a sharp stab caused them to fly off the lattice.

I dangled, gripping the wood with my fingers, and forced my feet to find hold. Small barbs pricked and scratched my tender soles.

“Dangit,” I muttered. “What breed of rose is this? Extra thorny?” I still had a good ten feet or so to go. The spiky leaves of the holly bushes looked sharper than normal. With my luck, Mr. Max had installed a fierce garden as an extra security measure.

Pulling my feet up, I hung with my rear hanging over the rose bush and decided to explore my other options. I examined the downspout to my left and realized my judgment had failed. The distance between the lattice and downspout was longer than an arm’s length.

As my fingers began to cramp and turn white, I pondered the wisdom of throwing myself at the plastic rain pipe. I toed the rose bush, felt the jab of a dozen thorns, and retreated. My shoulders began to ache and a tingly sensation prickled my arms and deadened fingers.

“Come on, Cherry,” I said, knowing how much I enjoyed pep talks. “Can’t hang here all day. Someone will come out of that pool house and see you. I doubt they mistake me for a bird.”

I inched to the edge of the lattice and stretched a hand toward the downspout, missing it by three feet. I snapped the hand back and attached it to the trellis.

My leg swung toward the downspout. My toes didn’t even brush the plastic. I forced them into the roses, wincing at the pricks and jabs, but the lattice had disappeared beneath the looping vines and my toes couldn’t find grip.

“Hellfire and damnation,” I exclaimed and stopped my cursing at the sound of men’s voices drifting in the air.

Someone had opened the pool house door.

I flattened myself the best I could. The voices quieted again as a door shut. I couldn’t risk a glance behind me. The effort to turn my head would have pulled me off the wall.

My arms began to tremble and my toes slipped. I gripped the wood with my fingers, scrabbling with my feet.

The thin wood beneath one hand began to splinter, and I brought my feet up into a crouch. There was one option that didn’t involve tearing myself up in the holly and roses. Fling myself backward and hope the lawn was softer than it looked. God willing, I could make like a ball and roll off the fall instead of cracking my noggin.

“Cherry,” called a voice. “Just what are you doing?”

I felt like pounding my head against the wall, except the splintering trellis already threatened to break.

“Is that you, Todd?” I called. “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“Is this some new sport? Like free-running? I always wanted to try jumping from building to building like that.”

“What kind of idiot jumps from building to building for a sport? I’m just trying to get to the ground. All the doors are locked.”

“Oh.”

While I stared at my white knuckles and felt a tremor set into my shoulders, Todd took a moment’s consideration of that fact.

“That’s on account of the ladies,” he finally replied. “Sometimes they like to snoop through Mr. Max’s things. He caught one in his bedroom checking out his undies once.”

“Well, I’ve got no interest in Mr. Max’s undergarments. I just plan on getting to the ground, thanks.”

“That’s good to hear. You want me to catch you?”

“Not especially,” I said, although the thought of falling into Todd’s arms sounded good. My entire body quivered and if my arms weren’t already numb, they’d ache.

“You might want to think about getting down, though. I can see up your skirt.”

“Stop looking,” I yelled and quieted. I couldn’t remember what panties I wore. Besides, it wouldn’t do to have Mr. Max appear and discover my misfortunate lack of judgment. “I’m jumping. You better stand clear.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed off the wall, hurtling into space. I hit something hard and lumpy which felt more like Todd than a holly bush. We crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs that were mostly Todd’s cradling the ball of my body.

I popped my eyes open, found myself tightly encased in Todd’s arms, and slammed my lids shut.

“That was cool,” he panted. “You okay?”

“Fine. Thanks for breaking my fall. You can let me go now.” I wiggled and felt his thick forearms tightening around me.

“Why are your eyes still closed? Are you sure you’re okay?”

I attempted to push off the ground and my hands encountered something that felt like muscled thighs. They flew off the thighs. “What’s with all the questions? Can’t I just climb down a wall and out of your lap without looking?”

“Without looking at what?”

There was no way on God’s Green Earth I would admit I didn’t want to see Todd up close and personal, particularly in my position of sitting between his solid chest and thick arms. I feared my traitorous lips would do something rash at the sight of his blue eyes, square jaw, and long dimples framing those firm yet soft lips. To admit that would be akin to admitting some kind of defeat I had yet to understand. So I kept my eyes closed and stilled my body’s struggles.

“It looks like you’re eating your lips when you pull them into your mouth like that,” he said. “But since I got you here, we need to talk.”

“I can think of nothing we need to talk about, particularly in this position,” I said. “But if you’re going to hold me here, why don’t you tell me what’s going on in the pool house.”

“Now hold on. You’ve been avoiding me for a week, then fell off a wall, and are sitting on my lap with your eyes closed. And you want to talk about the pool house?”

“That’s right.”

Keeping my eyes firmly shut, I turned to face him. His breath fanned my face, so I knew I had the right direction. Unfortunately, that breath reminded my lips of the air mixing we had shared some nights past. I ignored that memory and concentrated on the illegal doings in my vicinity.

“Is there a poker game going on?” I asked. “A big poker game with rich dudes? Hiding in a pool house in order to evade the law?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Knowing Todd, he could mean that statement literally. I squinted one eye open and met Todd’s deep blue gaze. It was too hard to roll my eyes with one closed, so I opened them to give Todd the full extent of my serious aim. “Who is in the pool house? And what are they doing?”

“Nobody I know.” He shrugged. “Nothing important.”

“Then you won’t care if I go check it out.”

“Hold on.” He squeezed me against his chest. “I want to talk about something else and this seems the only way I’m going to get to do it. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy. I’m still busy.”

“You haven’t called me back, and I’ve left messages. Every time I run by your house, you’re not home. And I know you heard me when you were here the other day. Why did you run away?”

“You were in a Speedo! I can’t talk to you when you’re wearing a Speedo.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” I felt my cheeks heat. “That’s ridiculous. And not the point. What were you doing in a Speedo in Mr. Max’s house?”

“Swimming.” He eyed me. “You have a problem with Speedos? I didn’t bring my suit, so I borrowed one from Mr. Max.”

The thought of Max wearing a Speedo brought me up short.

“Cherry, about the other day.”

I snapped my focus back to the man within whose arms I was sitting. “I’m not talking about the other day.”

“Are you still upset? Baby, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, my ass. You should never have done it.”

“But you asked me to...”

“I never asked you to kiss me.” I cocked my head at his astonished look. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“Eloise. I’ve still got all her stuff from the festival. Your stuff, too. That’s why I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”

“Oh.” I closed my eyes again. The problem with rare bouts of stupidity is they generally catch you unaware. Maybe that kiss had meant nothing to Todd. I was the one with noncommittal lips.

“Did you want to talk about the kiss?” His hands slid across my back.

I snapped my eyes open.

“No.” I checked my tone and bent the conversational track toward a more appropriate subject. “Thanks for holding on to Eloise’s pottery. Actually, I told her parents I’d bring them to the visitation tomorrow. When can I pick them up?”

“I can bring them to your house.”

We sat for a moment staring at each other.

“About that pool house...” I began.

“Todd McIntosh. Have you caught a prowler or are you using my garden for the rendezvous?”

We turned our heads to see the Bear striding across the lawn. I realized too late our conversation could be misconstrued as a cuddle, seeing as how Todd’s hands had found their way to my waist and my hands had unintentionally settled upon his shoulders. I had been meaning to push myself out of his lap using those thick deltoids and seem to have forgotten my intent. I used them now and hopped off the ground with Todd following suit.

“Hey, Mr. Max,” said Todd. “What’s going on?”

“You are needed,” said Max, jerking his head toward the pool house.

Todd trotted off with a wave to me.

Max turned to me with a scowl. “How have you found your way here, Artist?”

“Just admiring your yard.” I gave him my best customer service smile. “Give your gardener my compliments. He’s done a good job. You’ve got some mighty hardy roses.”

Max gave me a customary eyebrow lift, waving his scar.

“So, what’s going on in the pool house? And what’s Todd doing here again? I heard he might be working for you, but there’s another guy running the bingo.”

“Did you come looking for Todd McIntosh?” He planted his large body before me, blocking my view of the pool house. “I held a belief that you had the sortir with the police officer?”

“No, I wasn’t looking for Todd.” Sometimes I liked Max’s use of the French turn of phrase. Sometimes I wished he’d stick to his broken English. This was one of those times. “I remembered you had that pool house and just thought I would check it out.”

“I see.” He approached me, gathered my arm into the crook of his elbow, and ushered me toward his house. “Tell me, Miss Tucker, do you often explore a home without the owner?”

“Mostly yours. I was raised better, but curiosity got the best of me.”

I cranked my head to watch Todd disappear into the pool house. I realized my flip-flops resided somewhere in a holly bush under the trellis, but my thoughts were on Todd and the mysterious pool house. I felt a regular Nancy Drew, and Nancy probably didn’t stop for missing flip-flops. “Why does Todd get to go to the pool house? What is he doing for you?”

“Todd and I have become friends.” Max patted my hand where it rested on his solid arm. “Sometimes he helps me.”

“With what?”

We strolled to the patio door. Max kept my arm fitted against him, while he unlocked the door.

“Besides calling bingo numbers, what else does he do?” I continued. “You know he’s got a good job driving a truck. I’d hate to see him lose it moonlighting.”

The Bear jerked the door open and stepped through, dragging me with him. Turning to the keypad on the wall, he entered his security code, blocking my view with his large body. “Now then. We will begin the tour.”

“Tour?” I said. “I didn’t ask for a tour. I asked you about Todd and the pool house.”

“I assume that with your curiosity about my house, you wanted the tour. This,” he swept his hand before him, “is the recreational room. Which I do not use for the recreation.”

I eyed the large room piled with boxes. “Actually I only wanted to see the pool house.”

“There is sauna,” he pointed to a door toward the left, “which I do enjoy. Someday I will make use of this space. Come, let us see the rest of the house.”

I blew out a noisy sigh. “Fine. I can see you’re not listening.”

“I listen.” Max cracked a thin-lipped smile. “I have excellent hearing, Cherry Tucker. You should remember that the next time you attempt to climb my walls.”

 

BOOK: Still Life in Brunswick Stew
8.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Mia's Dreams by Angelica Twilight
Retribution by Sherrilyn Kenyon
Rogue Oracle by Alayna Williams
Love Irresistibly by Julie James
The Keeper's Vow by B.F. Simone
Gray Ghost by William G. Tapply
Bound By Blood by C.H. Scarlett