Murder Hooks a Mermaid (12 page)

The room came together more quickly than I had imagined possible. In just a few minutes we had transformed the tiny alcove into a miniature nursery, ready for the arrival of its part-time resident.

We stepped back to admire our work, and Felipe furrowed his brow. “Of course,” he said, “there’s something missing.”

He ran out the back door as though he had just thought of what he needed, but I don’t think any of us believed that for a second.

Especially when he came back with Frank and Cheryl Beauford right behind him, carrying a rocking chair with a big pink bow. “I know your mama made sure you had a proper rocker at home,” Frank said, “but we all wanted to make sure you had one here, too. This is from me and Cheryl, and from all the crew at the store.”

He stopped for a minute as Julie burst into a new bout of tears. She quickly regained her composure, and he continued: “You just be sure you don’t get too comfy over here. We want you back at the store, just as soon as you’re ready.”

Chapter 14

ELEVEN PEOPLE MADE A HUGE CROWD FOR THE
small nursery, but we were almost as big a crowd upstairs, as Julie’s party moved to my apartment. Frank and Cheryl begged off, saying they had plans, but the rest of us trooped up to my place.

We hadn’t planned it that way, but it just seemed natural to invite everyone to come up. Ernie immediately started rummaging through my cupboards. He stacked ingredients on the counter and dug into the refrigerator. Within minutes he had a package of ground beef browning in a soup kettle with garlic and onions.

Julie sat on the sofa with her mother next to her, smiling but still looking a little shell-shocked.

I was kind of stunned myself. I had to admit, I was amazed at how quickly the nursery had come together.

A happy buzz of conversation filled the living room as I joined Ernie in the kitchen. “What’re you up to?”

“Vegetable soup. Want to give me a hand with biscuits?”

“Sure.” I pushed up the long sleeves of my T-shirt and pulled my hair up into a knot. I washed my hands and started measuring dry ingredients.

Ernie poured a can of vegetable juice into the pot with the beef, then added water and seasonings from my spice rack.

The doorbell at the back door rang. Felipe glanced at Ernie and me, busy with the cooking. “I’ll go,” Felipe said, heading downstairs.

He returned a minute later with Karen. She caught my eye from across the room. It was clear she had more news, but she shook her head, an almost invisible gesture that told me whatever it was would have to wait.

I finished mixing the biscuits, then rolled and cut them.

Ernie turned to me. “I’ll put them in the oven when it’s time. Go play hostess.”

I nodded, leaving dinner to Ernie for the moment. Julie was still sitting on the couch with Anita, but she looked tired and uneasy.

“I think we’re going to go,” Anita said. “Julie needs to get home and get some rest.”

“Are you sure?” I said. “Ernie’s cooking.”

Julie nodded without speaking. Her mother stood and offered her a hand to help her up from the sofa. Julie wrapped her arms around me, her stomach pushed against mine, her head on my shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” I answered. I walked her downstairs to let her and her mom out the front door. When we came
in the shop, Bluebeard whistled softly. “Pretty girl,” he said.

Julie chuckled, but she cut the laughter short. Her face tightened, and both her mother and I reacted immediately.

“Are you okay?” we asked, nearly in unison.

“Yeah,” she answered, her voice shaky. “A cramp is all. I just need to get home and lie down.”

I shooed her out the door with her mom, who wrapped an arm around her daughter and led her to the car. Assured she was in good hands, I returned to my guests.

The impromptu party showed no signs of slowing down, even though the guest of honor had departed. Felipe was helping Ernie in the kitchen, adding frozen vegetables and potatoes to the boiling broth. The oven beeped when it reached the proper temperature, and Ernie slid the tray of biscuits in.

Within a couple minutes, the aromas of baking biscuits and simmering soup filled the small apartment. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since midmorning.

I would be quite happy when dinner was ready.

Karen and I stood to one side watching the activity in the single room that composed most of my apartment. Shiloh, Linda, Jake, and Sly sat around the low chest I used as a coffee table, deep in conversation. I wondered what they were talking about.

“Betting on when the baby’s coming,” Karen said in answer to the question I hadn’t asked. “Sly insists it’ll be Tuesday morning, but Linda says he’s wrong, that she won’t last that long. They’ve been arguing for ten minutes, with Jake just sitting back and watching.”

She turned to look at me. “Speaking of Jake,” she said,
lowering her voice, “was that the most awkward double date in the history of the world, or what?”

“Since it wasn’t a date, I don’t think it can be a double date, can it?” I countered, dodging her question. On an awkward scale of one to ten, I’d call it about a twelve, but that wasn’t what she was really getting at. “Unless
you
were on a date?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think any interaction with an ex-spouse can be described as a date. Period. But we were talking about you, not me. And if that wasn’t a date, what was it?”

I felt my face turning red at the memory of the previous night. “I need to turn on the fan,” I said as I turned toward the kitchen. “This many people and all the cooking is making it way too warm.”

Karen followed me. “This conversation isn’t over,” she said. “We’ll talk after dinner.”

I switched on the exhaust fan, as though that had been my entire goal. “Whatever.” I hoped I sounded a lot calmer than I felt.

I took soup bowls out of the cupboard and handed them to Karen. Over the years, I had accumulated a collection of unmatched pottery that went with my mismatched kitchen chairs and farmhouse table. One of the perks of running Southern Treasures was choosing pieces from the store to use myself. I had to resist a lot of temptation, since I needed to sell the things I bought, and the limited cupboard space in my apartment helped. Every time I brought in something new, I had to take a piece downstairs and sell it. It made me very choosy.

When the biscuits came out of the oven, Felipe piled
them on a platter and put them on the table with butter and honey.

“It’s soup,” he called over the hum of conversation.

Shiloh hesitated, and Sly nodded at her. “My mama told me to respect my elders,” she said with a shy smile. Sly was probably old enough to be her grandfather.

“And my mama always said ‘Ladies first.’ So you and Miz Miller go on ahead. Me and Jake will be along in a minute.”

Linda stood up and grinned at Sly. “If Ernie’s cooking,” she said, “you don’t have to ask me twice. Come on, Shiloh.”

They each grabbed a bowl. Ernie ladled the steaming soup directly from the pot on the stove, and the two women took seats at the table. Sly followed them with Jake right behind.

Ernie and I were the last two to get our food, and the table was already full. Jake jumped up, offering me his seat, but I gestured at him to sit back down.

“You’re a guest,” I said. “And no proper hostess would ever have a guest eat standing up while she sits. It’s just not done.”

“And letting a lady eat standing up is?” Sly said, sliding his chair away from the table.

“Sit!” I said, imitating the command Sly used with Bobo when the junkyard dog got too rambunctious.

Sly’s face split into a grin as he recognized the tone. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, planting himself back in the chair.

I pulled out the old wooden breadboard above the silverware drawer, creating a makeshift table. Ernie dragged a couple folding chairs in off the tiny deck, and we sat down.
The surface was too tall, and the chairs too short, but it really didn’t matter. The joy was in the company and the food, not the furniture, and I was glad of the respite from the worry over Bobby. I let myself relax, savoring the warmth and friendship that filled my small home.

Linda finished eating and cleared her dishes, stacking them on the counter next to the sink. “I hate to eat and run, but I have to get back,” she said. “I left Guy alone in the shop on a Saturday night, and I’ve already been gone longer than I should.”

I insisted she take a bowl of soup and a couple biscuits for her husband. If Linda was like a sister, then Guy was an adored older brother. I tried not to imagine how my life might have turned out if it hadn’t been for them taking me in when my folks died. It was a frightening prospect, and I owed them more than I could ever hope to repay.

A few minutes later, Shiloh carried her bowl to the counter. “I came straight from work,” she said. As the office manager for a car dealership, she worked on the weekend like the rest of us. “I should be getting home, too.”

She nodded to Sly. “If you’re ready to go?”

“Yep.” He picked up his bowl and added it to the stack on the counter. “I best be getting, seeing as how Miss Shiloh is my ride. Besides, Bobo will be anxious for his dinner.”

I managed to convince Sly to take some of the soup for lunch the next day. Telling him I would have to come pick up the container clinched the argument.

“Bring that fella of yours with you,” he said, nodding toward Jake. “I like talking to him.”

I felt myself blush when Sly called Jake my “fella,” but I nodded. “If we can find a time that works,” I promised.

I walked Sly and Shiloh downstairs. Bluebeard peered out to check on who was coming through the shop. “Night, Sylvester,” he called.

“Goodnight, Bluebeard,” Sly said. He turned to me, with a look that reminded me I owed him an explanation. “And to you, too. I’ll talk to you real soon, y’hear?”

“I promise, Sly.” I gave him a quick hug and managed to get the two of them outside before Bluebeard said anything more.

Once the door was closed, I walked across the shop to where Bluebeard had emerged from his cage.

“What are you up to?” I asked, not really expecting an answer. Uncle Louis decided exactly what, when, and to whom Bluebeard spoke. And he didn’t answer my questions.

“People don’t come back for no reason,” he said, as though that made some kind of sense.

I remembered Sly telling me he came back to town after his stint in the army. Just like Uncle Louis, except about twenty years later. I wondered if there was some connection between the two men.

That was all I got out of him. I offered a biscuit, which he took, but he didn’t give me anything in return. After a few minutes, Karen called down the stairs to make sure I was okay.

“Just taking care of Bluebeard,” I called back. “I’m coming back up right now.”

Following my promise, I headed back up the stairs. Bluebeard—well, Uncle Louis—would tell me what he wanted me to hear when he was ready.

And not a minute sooner.

Chapter 15

BACK UPSTAIRS, THE KITCHEN WAS ALREADY SET TO
rights. Felipe was up to his elbows in soapy water, and Karen was wiping up the table. Jake was dragging the deck chairs back outside while Ernie was putting away the leftovers.

I moved over to the sink and started drying dishes. Normally I’d just leave them in my miniature dish drainer, but there wasn’t room for the dishes from that many people. When Ernie finished putting away the food, he and Jake disappeared downstairs while Karen, Felipe, and I finished the cleanup.

By the time we drained the sink and put away the last of the clean dishes, Jake and Ernie returned with a six-pack of microbrew from The Grog Shop.

“Guy says thanks for the soup,” Jake said as he opened
bottles for everyone. “Said it was keeping Linda out of trouble for being gone so long.”

We all chuckled, not for one minute believing it. Guy adored his wife, and whatever she did was just fine with him. It helped that she felt the same way. The two of them were like poster children for marriage, and I hoped someday I would find the same kind of devotion and contentment.

I glanced across the room to where Felipe and Ernie had their heads close together in a quiet moment of conversation. Like Guy and Linda, they made good role models.

I accepted a cold bottle from Jake and sank into the corner of the sofa. He sat next to me, close but not too close. Karen sat across from me, her expression saying clearly that Jake was plenty close, and I still owed her an explanation.

After a minute, Ernie and Felipe drifted over and sat down.

It struck me that our regular foursome—Felipe, Ernie, Karen, and me—had become five somewhere in the past few weeks. The ease with which Jake had become part of the group surprised me, since we had been a tight-knit bunch for several years. I was happy and relieved that my friends had taken to Jake so quickly, and he to them.

“Okay, Karen,” Felipe said. “You said you had news, and from the look of you it isn’t good. So let’s hear it and see what we can do about it.”

I glanced at Karen. “What have you heard?”

“I asked the guys to stay while you were downstairs. I don’t want to have to tell this twice.” She slapped her hand on the arm of the chair. “Hell! I don’t want to have to tell it once. In fact, I don’t know if I’m even supposed to know, much less tell anyone else.”

She balled her hands into fists. Now that we were alone, she could set her emotions free. Her face reddened, and her voice rose. “Not that I care what I am, or am not, supposed to know.”

Nothing new there. The best reporter at WBBY never put limits on what she wanted to know.

What was new was how visibly angry she was. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her like this. Several years ago at least, that was for sure.

She took a long pull on her bottle of beer and drew a couple deep breaths. “Okay. I was late because I was waiting for Riley to get home from visiting Bobby. He got to talk with Bobby about the new charges, and he found out something that changes everything: the diver that was killed was an undercover federal agent. Bobby wasn’t sure exactly what they were investigating, or even which agency he was with.” She buried her face in her hands.