“Apparently not.”
Patricia’s grin was wide. “I may be able to use that in my suit.”
“Anyway, I’m just wondering…” I gasped from the exertion, but Tyler crowed with delight. “You said you’d give me the details at the hockey party, but everything got so crazy…”
She smiled wickedly. “Oh, I do know why he had to auction the condo, Goldy. My husband said it was almost as if I’d planned it, so I could make Korman miserable.”
I inadvertently stopped pushing and the swing knocked me in the abdomen. I recovered, but Tyler howled. I pushed again, a tad more moderately. “Why did he have to auction off his condo?”
She squinted at me. Keeping track of Tyler’s trajectory so I wouldn’t get whacked again, I couldn’t return her look. “Because of his legal bills. Have you ever been sued?” When I shook my head, she said, “You’re looking at ten thousand just to get started. At least fifty thou to keep your lawyer going. Sure, he had malpractice insurance, but it didn’t cover everything, not by a long shot. He just didn’t have the cash he needed.” She plucked a piece of grass from her pants. “I was so happy when they auctioned off that condo, you can’t imagine.” She chuckled, then stood and brushed the rest of the grass from her pants. She walked over to spell me with the swing pushing. “Goldy, listen. I may wish I were God,” she said very deliberately. “Unfortunately, I’m not. But let me tell you. John Richard Korman hasn’t begun to suffer for what he did to me. And he won’t be able to escape, no matter how hard he tries.”
As if in agreement, Tyler emitted an earsplitting yowl. I fled.
I called Macguire from the cellular once I’d roared out of Patricia’s driveway. To my astonishment, he answered on the first ring.
“Goldilocks’ Catering!” He brightly launched into my official greeting. “Where Everything Is Just Right! Whaddayawant?”
“Macguire! Please don’t say ‘whaddayawant?’ to potential clients. It sounds unprofessional.”
“Oh, Goldy! Sorry! No problem. Listen, I’m chopping all these vegetables. They look good, too! Think you should slip a little chlorophyll into the filling?”
“No,” I said firmly. “Listen, did Arch call?”
“No, but that therapist’s office called you back and said everyone’s on vacation. You want a therapist for Arch, you’re going to have to use a referral to someone in Denver.”
Great, I thought. First, of course, I’d have to convince Arch to come home.
“Also,” Macguire went on, “Mrs. Druckman called. She’s taking Todd and Arch down to the Natural History Museum. Oh, and Marla called, too. She was on her way to Denver to see ReeAnn, wanted you to come have lunch with her, just so you could relax! But it’s too late now, she’s gone.”
“That’s okay, I’ll come home.”
“No, don’t! Let me finish what I’ve got going here. If you come home, you’ll just mope around about Arch. You should go out for lunch! How about Aspen Meadow Barbecue? My buddies and I think it’s great. Plus, you’ve got that dinner tonight, you might as well get some food now! Have a bowl of chili and a beer! Relax and leave the chopping to me!”
“Macguire ? “
“Oh, oh, scrrk, scrrk” ? he started making fake squishing noises-“you’re breaking up, you know, it’s those scrrk scrrk cellular phones scrrk!” And he disconnected.
“Macguire,” I said to the dead phone, “I’ve seen you do this trick before.” But I smiled anyway and dutifully headed the van in the direction of Aspen Meadow Barbecue, famed creekside hangout of construction workers, truck drivers, wannabe cowboys, and assorted tough guys, all of whom had the single-minded intention of getting completely smashed at lunch. An outdoor dining area separated the hard-drinking crowd inside from tourists and the occasional brave group of ladies coming for a luncheon get-together on the water. The last time Marla and I had eaten there, she’d told me that the de rigueur item for the crowd inside was extra hot chili consumed with shots of tequila.
But Marla wasn’t with me today, I remembered. I sighed. Did I really want to have lunch out alone? Macguire was doing the prep for the dinner tonight, and I could use a break. Across the street from Aspen Meadow Barbecue was a banner draped across the wooden sign of Aspen Meadow Nursery. It advertised a perennial-and-bush sale. I thought of Frances’s admonition: You need a hobby. Well, maybe I’d go scope out the shrubs before braving the rough lunch crowd at Aspen Meadow Barbecue.
I wandered through sparsely stocked aisles and finally decided on some Fairy roses. The bushes featured lovely pink blossoms and were guaranteed’ hardy at our altitude, a key asset. As I loaded them into the van, I pictured Tom getting a huge kick out of my sudden interest in things horticultural.
Wait a minute. I stopped dead and looked again at the carved sign: ASPEN MEADOW NURSERY. In the list of questions I’d entered into my computer about Suz Craig’s murder, had I even thought to look into these people, also fired by Suz Craig? No. Well. No time like the present.
I hustled back inside and told the cashier that on second thought I’d like to have my yard landscaped. And I wanted to have the same person who’d done Suz Craig’s in the Aspen Meadow Country Club. Suz had raved to me about the great work he’d done.
The cashier’s face fell. “Uh, you sure?”
“Absolutely.?
“Well, Duke’s out in the yard. Big blond fellow. Better go catch him, he does an early shift, then goes out with the guys for lunch on Wednesdays, then he goes home and sleeps. I have to tell you, Duke didn’t like that Craig woman. You might want to find somebody else, if she was your friend. He had a big grudge against her. Still does, even if she’s dead.”
Yes, yes, I thought, take a number and get in line. The cashier pointed me in the direction of the nursery’s yard, which was on the same side of the street as Aspen Meadow Barbecue. The man at the yard gate pointed to a Paul Bunyanesque, platinum-haired giant who wore ear protection and drove a Cat loaded with mulch. The gate guard waited until the Cat had turned in our direction, then waved to the giant, whom I assumed was Duke. Duke dumped the mulch in the waiting bed of a truck, then chugged over to us. He flipped a switch and the engine died. He hopped out of the Cat and loomed over us-he was at least six foot six-and asked the gate guard what he wanted, for crying out loud. The guard jerked his thumb in my direction.
Duke turned his attention down to me. His dark blue eyes were not friendly. The bus-yellow ear-protection device dangled from one of his meaty hands, and I had the feeling that if he didn’t like what I had to say, he’d pop it right back on. I looked way, way up at him.
“Ah, I understand that,” I began sincerely, “you did some landscaping for Suz Craig. I thought it looked great.”
“Yah, what about it? You a friend of hers?”
“Well, sort of ? “
“Okay, see ya later,” he said abruptly, and snapped the ear protection back on.
“Wait!” I yelled. Duke scowled, opened his eyes wide, and tugged off the metal ear muffs.
“I gotta go, lady. I’m going out to lunch in a few minutes and I need to finish this load. You want a landscaper, ask the people at the nursery to give you a referral someplace else. I don’t want to work for nobody who liked that woman. Got it? See ya later, okay?”
“Well, hold on,” I said, desperate now. “Just talk to me. I don’t really want landscaping. I catered for Suz Craig and I’m having some problems ? “
Duke smirked knowingly. “Ah, she stiffed you, too, huh?”
“What?” Then I understood. Suz Craig had refused to pay him for his work. I assumed a sad expression. “We had terrible problems,” I confided.
Duke looked at the sky and shook his blond head. “Honestly, people like that ? “
“You heard she was killed.”
“Yah. No wonder.”
“So you thought she was hard to deal with, too. I’m just wondering if your story is similar to mine.”
“I’ll tell ya, I’d have to be half plastered to tell my story about that woman. But then you wouldn’t be able to shut me up.”
Inspiration struck. I asked, “How quickly can you finish your load?” He grunted something unintelligible.
