part's probably counterproductive,' Cecily said. When they finally went back into the house, Jane was bubbling with ideas and had, in addition, four little cucumbers that had actually grown on her side of the fence to make into a salad. 'Jane, I'll make dinner. You work on your book,' Cecily said.
“I can't do that. You're a guest.'
“Yes, you can. I'm your mother and I'm telling you to go write. Give me the car keys. I've got a new recipe I want to try out on you.”
Jane spent the rest of the afternoon blissfully involved with Priscilla. She made one quick run to the library to get a book on Colonial costume and another on social customs, but didn't let herself get sidetracked into reading them yet.
Nor did she consciously let herself think about Mrs. Pryce's murder. But it kept running through her mind like a dark undercurrent. Missy, Grady, Bob Neufield, Desiree, Ruth, Naomi, and Maria Espinoza kept popping into her thoughts, and she kept shoving them aside.
And other thoughts kept crowding in at her, too. The extra book in Shelley's car, the little birdcage, the beautiful flower arrangement. Were they, in some obscure way, threats? Somebody was giving her things. Of course, the book and birdcage could have been accidental. Things that just got left someplace and had nothing to do with her. But the flowers—what about the flowers? They weren't accidental. Someone deliberately sent her flowers. They went in and ordered and paid for them.
“Jane! Dinner's ready!' Cecily called up the stairs. Jane glanced at her watch and was astonished to see that it was already six o'clock. Where had the time gone?
“Mom, that was great,' Jane said, taking one last bite of cucumber. Cecily had fixed a chicken casserole dish with peas and water chestnuts that was layered with lasagna noodles and white sauce and cheese-crusty on the top.
“It's the curry powder.'
“I didn't taste curry.' Jane started clearing the table.
“That's the secret. There's not a chicken dish in the world that can't benefit from a breath of curry. Jane, I'll do that. You've got to get to class.'
“Me? Aren't you coming?'
“Not tonight. Katie called while you were in the basement throwing things in the dryer. She said there's some problem with the chlorine tanks and they're closing the pool tonight at seven. She wanted to know if we could go to a movie. I told her you needed to go to class, but that I'd like to go. You can take notes for me, can't you?'
“I'd be glad to. Are you sure you don't mind missing it?'
“I'd feel a lot worse about missing a chance to go out with my granddaughter. You better catch Shelley, though. I'll need your car.”
Jane dialed Shelley and made the arrangements. On the way to class a few minutes later, Jane told about the flowers she'd received. 'They aren't from Mel. I don't think they're from Grady, but I never heard back from Missy. I'm sure they didn't come from the slimeball—'
“What slimeball in particular?'
“Oh, didn't I tell you about the liquor store? You'll love this—”
The story took them all the way to the parking lot of the city hall. They were sitting in the car laughing when Missy pulled in. She came over to Shelley's car. 'Jane, sorry I couldn't return your call. I did check with Grady. He said no, he didn't send them, which isn't surprising. Grady doesn't 'do' flowers. I send myself a poinsettia every Christmas in his name, and also a nice corsage of gardenias for my birthday. He always pays the bill, but never thinks of taking on the whole job himself. Where's your mother, Jane?”
Jane explained.
“There are Ruth and Naomi. Grady's picking up Bob because his car wouldn't start. They ought to be along in a minute. I'm going in and get my notes in order.'
“We'll come in in a sec,' Jane said. When Missy had left, Jane turned to Shelley. 'If Grady didn't send me the flowers, who did? And, Shelley, I haven't even told you about the birdcage yet.'
“Birdcage? Jane, is Mel picking you up?'
“I don't think so. He called this afternoon, but he didn't say anything.”
Shelley tapped her nails on the steering wheel thoughtfully. 'You haven't filled me in on your date yet, either. Jane, we need a serious talk. This has gone on long enough! We've got to get everything sorted out and someone arrested.”
1 8
Jane hadn't really expected Mel to be waiting for her to get out of class again, but that hadn't kept her from hoping—and from being disappointed when he wasn't there. She and Shelley went back to Jane's house and found that Cecily and Katie weren't home from the movies yet. 'All right,' Shelley said, all business, 'show me this birdcage.”
Jane had to think a minute before she remembered that she'd set it inside the garage door. She brought it in and set it on the kitchen table. Both women sat down and stared at it for a moment. 'It's not a real birdcage,' Shelley said. 'I've seen this before.'
“Have you?' Jane looked at it, and her eyes widened in recognition. 'Yes, so have I, come to think of it. It had candies in it when I first saw it. That's what I first thought of when I found it. But where—'
“Put it at the back of your mind. It's easier to remember things that way. So, where did you find it?'
“On the patio table.'
“When?'
“This morning. After we got back from Desiree's house. I went outside and it was on the patio table.' 'How long had it been there?'
“How would I know, Shelley? It didn't come with a timer.'
“I mean, when was the last time it
It only took Jane a few seconds to interpret this question. 'I can't remember if I went out there earlier today. Wait. Yes, I got up very early and had a cup of coffee outside.'
“And it wasn't there then?'
“I'm not sure. It was awfully early, and Willard was out there with me, threatening to go into bark mode and wake up the neighborhood. I was keeping a close eye on him. As close an eye as I can muster early in the morning. I couldn't swear to it, but I don't think it was on the table then.'
“So all we know for sure is that it wasn't there
“Yesterday? Oh, yes. You and Missy and I sat out there.'
“And were you out again yesterday or last night?'
“I don't think so. I let Willard and the cats in and out about a hundred times, but you can't see the table from the kitchen door that goes out back.'
“The Purple Porcupine!' Shelley said suddenly. 'What?'
“That little gift shop at the mall. That's where I've seen it.'
“You're right. Last week when we were looking for something for Denise's birthday. There were about a million of them,' she added sourly.
“And they've had them for months,' Shelley added. 'Anybody could have had one. I'm not so sure it means anything anyway.'
“Neither am I,' Jane admitted. 'But taken with the extra copy of the book and the flowers, it's odd.'
“I still think you're wrong about the book being a mystery. You just accidentally picked up somebody else's. And the flowers; are those the ones?”
Jane carefully picked up the arrangement from thecounter and set it in the middle of the table. 'Pretty, isn't it?'
“Gorgeous. Set somebody back a pretty penny. Why don't you call the florist and ask if they have a record of who sent it?'
“I thought about it, but got interested in Priscilla and forgot to do it.'
“Priscilla? Who's that?”
Jane took a deep breath and explained to Shelley about the concept of writing a book.
