keep seeing her?”
“Because I’m here.” I pirouetted, humming “I’m Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover.”
She faced me, her gaze resistant. “You insisted we come out here. What is this supposed to tell me?”
Her refusal to acknowledge me made conversation difficult. Truth is always the best policy. Sometimes truth is even believed. “I want to discuss our next step, and I’m tired of being invisible. As I’ve told Wiggins, I’m not at my best when I’m invisible.”
“Certainly it’s important you be at your—” She broke off, stared. “Wiggins?”
“My supervisor. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Oh, no. Come on, Bailey Ruth, level with me.”
Since Kay never believed what I said, I saw no harm in explaining the Department of Good Intentions, the old- fashioned train station, and the Rescue Express.
She listened with flattering attention.
“…so you see, you’ve been specially chosen for protection.”
“Yeah. I’m special. I’m so special my mind is splintering.” Her tone was morose. She looked warily about. “Is Wiggins lurking around, too?”
I sincerely hoped not. “Not usually. He permits his agents great independence. Normally I wouldn’t dream of appearing.” Are you listening, Wiggins? “But it’s such a lovely morning.” Besides, I might know I was wearing a stylish outfit, but I liked to see it as well. I dropped my gaze to my sandals. The shade of green was glorious, almost translucent, like sunlight spearing through green glass.
I gave Kay a reassuring smile. “You’d like Wiggins.”
“I’m sure I would. The more the merrier.”
“Sarcasm isn’t becoming.”
She cuffed the side of her head. “Now I’m scolding me. All right, redheaded brain wave. What’s your plan?”
“You need to talk to Gwen Dunham.”
“Oh.” Her huff was derisive. “Dumb idea, brain wave. You’re caught up in Shannon’s romantic nonsense. Even Jack couldn’t sweep a woman into a passionate love affair in the space of three weeks and reach the point of dramatic scenes. Besides, scenes weren’t his style. He was too cool for that.” There were memories in her eyes, not all of them good.
“Shannon saw them quarreling.”
Kay shrugged. “Shannon probably saw what she wanted to see. I’ll talk to Gwen Dunham, but she’s not high on my list. As far as I’ve been able to figure out, she scarcely knew Jack. Actually”—she looked grim—“Shannon ranks close to the top. Nobody loves—or hates—like a twentysomething. How hurt was she by Jack’s turndown? And how angry? I want to talk to her mother, see what I can find out. After that, I’ll—”
Footsteps sounded on the gazebo steps.
Both Kay and I swung to look.
I’d been engrossed in our conversation. Wiggins would not see that fact as an excuse. He would point out that my stubborn habit of appearing had now come home to roost.
Diane Hume reached the top step. Sprigs of blond hair poked from beneath a huge straw hat. The cuffs of her long-sleeved smock were tucked into gardening gloves. She carried a straw basket brimming with cut flowers. “Kay”—Diane’s voice was high and breathless—“that police chief is here. He’s talking to Evelyn. He wants to see you. Oh.” She gave me a shy smile. “Hello.”
Kay looked slowly from me, back to Diane. “You see her?” The words were unsteady.
Diane looked surprised. “Did I come at a bad time? I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t know you were having a private meeting. What do you want me to tell that policeman?”
I felt I had no choice. It was time to seize the moment. Was I being led? Possibly I’d underestimated Wiggins’s openness to innovation. Perhaps he was coming around to my view. Sometimes an emissary had to be onstage. In two quick strides, I reached Diane. I offered my hand. Oh. I took an instant to redo the polish. Pink is much more summery than red. “Hi, I’m Francie de Sales, and I just arrived.”
I hoped the patron saint of writers approved of my nom de plume.
Kay made an inarticulate noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “Francie…”
I gave her a sharp nod. I had no intention of being identified publicly as Bailey Ruth Raeburn. There’s a memorial column for me and Bobby Mac in the cemetery by St. Mildred’s with
Kay stared with huge and rounded eyes.
What an unfortunate moment for her to grapple with the reality of me.
Diane scrambled to pull off a glove. She looked at me with the kindly friendliness of a puppy. “I’m Diane Hume.”
I smiled as we shook hands. “Kay’s told me about you and how welcoming you are. She is so appreciative. You’ll have to forgive her. Such a shock. A huge tarantula jumped toward her just a moment ago. She’s always had a thing about tarantulas.”
Diane darted frightened looks around the gazebo.
