head, and he won’t let it go, and he’s hounding me about it.”
I waited expectantly. I was so curious I finally prodded her. “He surely doesn’t think you had anything to do with Tonia Lee’s death?”
“He thinks I know who did do it,” Idella said wearily. “That’s just ridiculous, of course.” She stared bleakly into the mirror; she looked even more haggard under the harsh light, her dead-grass hair a limp mess around her pale face. “He says he saw my car pulling out of the Greenhouse Realty parking lot the night Tonia Lee was killed.”
“How could he possibly think that?”
But Idella was through confiding, and when someone pushed behind me hard enough to make the door move a little, she seized the chance to go back to her table. “Thanks,” she said quickly. “I’ll see you later.”
I moved away from the door to let her out, and she shouldered her way past the door-pusher, who turned out to be Terry Sternholtz.
She gave us a very peculiar look; she knew I’d been holding the door shut. I wondered if she’d been out there long.
“Idella seemed upset,” Terry said casually as she pulled open one of the stalls. She looked very bright today, her bouncing red hair contrasting cheerfully with a Kelly green suit.
“Some upset she had,” I said dismissively, and went back to my table. Sally was waiting, and raised her eyebrows expectantly as I slid into my chair.
“I don’t know,” I said to answer Sally’s unspoken query. “She wouldn’t really say.” I didn’t want to repeat the conversation. It seemed evident Idella was in trouble of some kind, and she had always been so nice to me I didn’t want to compound it by starting a rumor. Sally looked at me sideways, to show me she knew I was evading her. “I don’t know why you think I tell everyone everything I know,” she said with more than a little pique in her voice. It looked as if we’d have our own little quarrel.
Just then the group of Pan-Am Agra executives came in for their campaign kick-off lunch, among them Martin. It was just like seeing the boy who’d given you your first kiss the night before. As if I’d had on a homing signal, Martin immediately turned and scanned the crowd, finding me quickly. He excused himself from his companions and left the line to come over. My face felt hot. Sally’s back was to him, and she was saying “You look like you just swallowed a fish, Roe,” when he came up, bent over, and gave me a kiss that was just short enough not to be vulgar. Then we beamed at each other.
“This is my friend Sally Allison, Martin,” I said abruptly, suddenly aware of Sally’s interested face.
“Hello,” he said politely, and shook Sally’s proferred hand.
“Aren’t you the new plant manager of Pan-Am Agra?” she asked. “I think Jack Forrest did a business-page article on you.”
“I saw it. It was well-written,” Martin said. “More than I can say for some of the stories written about me. What time tomorrow night, Roe?”
“Seven?” I said at random.
“I’ll be there at seven.” He kissed me again very quickly, nodded to Sally, and rejoined his group, who were watching with great attention.
“You certainly got branded in public,” Sally said dryly.
“Huh?” I had my face turned down to my plate.
“ ‘Property of Martin Bartell. Do Not Touch.’”
“Sally, I don’t want to look like we’re talking about him,” I hissed. I looked at her sternly. “Just talk about something else for a while.”
“Okay,” she said agreeably. “Is he going to ask you to the prom?”
“Sally!”
“Oh, all right. Donnie left in a snit as soon as Idella emerged from the women’s room and hot-footed it out the door. Donnie looked right sullen. What did she tell you?”
“That Donnie thought… oh, Sally!”
“Just curious, just curious! Since when are you and Martin Bartell an item?”
“Very recently.” Like last night.
“Well, isn’t life on the up-and-up for us? I get married, and you get a sweetie.”
I rolled my eyes. Thinking of Martin as a “sweetie” was like thinking of a Great Dane as a precious bundle of fur.
“He was in Vietnam, wasn’t he?” Sally asked.
“Yes.”
“I think he brought home some medals. He wouldn’t talk about it to Jack, but one of the other Pan-Am Agra execs told Jack that Bartell came out of the war with a bit of glory.”
“When was the story in the paper?” I hadn’t seen it.
“Soon after he arrived, at least six weeks ago.”
“Can you send me a copy, Sally?”
“Sure. I’ll track it down when I go to the office tomorrow.”
We computed tips and gathered our purses. My shoulder blades itched, and I looked behind me. Martin, surrounded by his employees, was sitting at one of the larger round tables, watching me, smiling a little.
He looked hungry.
I floated out to my car.
Chapter Eight
I HAD AGREED to meet Eileen at the office, and it was close enough to the time for me to head that way. There were several cars parked outside; Sunday was often a busy day at Select Realty.
The first person I saw was Idella, who said “Hi, Roe!” as brightly as if I hadn’t seen her boo-hooing in the women’s room at a restaurant not forty-five minutes before.
“Hello, Idella,” I said obligingly.
“I just got an offer on your house on Honor. Mrs. Kaye is offering three thousand less than your asking price, plus she wants the microwave and the appliances to stay.”
We went to Idella’s little office, decorated exclusively with pictures of her two children, together and separate, the boy about ten and very heavyset, the girl perhaps seven and thin, with lank blond hair. I sat in one of her client chairs and considered for a moment.
“Tell her-her offer needs to be up by a thousand, and she can have everything but the washer and dryer.” Mine came with the townhouse, and I’d need a set when I moved.
“What about the freezer in the carport toolshed?” Idella asked. “It’s not spelled out here whether she is including that under appliances or not.”
“I don’t really care that much about the freezer. If she wants it, she can have it.”
“Okay. I’ll take your counteroffer over to her aunt’s house right now.”
Idella was obviously determined not to refer to the scene at Beef ‘N More. Of course, I wanted to know what it was about, but in all decency I would have to wait until she felt like confiding in me.
“I’m really pleased about this offer,” I told her, and she smiled.
“It was an easy sell, the right person at the right time,” she said dismissively. “She needs a small decent house in good shape, you have a small decent house in good shape; the deadend street location and the price are right.”
The phone rang while Idella gathered papers. She picked up with one hand while her other kept busy. “Idella Yates speaking,” she said pleasantly. The first words of her caller changed Idella’s demeanor dramatically. Her free hand stilled, she sat up straighter, the smile vanished from her face. “I’ll have to talk later,” she said swiftly. “Yes, I have to see you… well…” She closed her eyes in thought. “Okay,” she said finally. She hung up and sat very still for a moment. The cheer, the bustle, had seeped right out of her. I didn’t know whether to say anything or not, so I settled for looking concerned, as I certainly was.
Idella decided to stonewall. “I think I’ve got everything here,” she said in a dreadful simulation of her previous cheerful efficiency.
