first incident.”
“What about your friend Desmond? If he knew about the earrings, could he have told others?” I said.
Ritaestelle narrowed her eyes in thought. “Perhaps. Desmond is quite the conversationalist. He will engage anyone about anything. But I have always assumed the most intense gossip began after a similar incident a week later. Evie was with me at the pharmacy, as you know. Her turn to be humiliated. She asked me if I had forgotten those items were in my bag.”
“What items?” Kara asked.
“Small things—nail polish, a few emery boards, perhaps a lipstick. But I was quick to notice that others in the store saw Evie point this out to me. The very next day Nancy paid me a visit and told me that several people had informed her that I might have a
Tom shook his head, apparently not buying this. “The police chief came to you about this piddly stuff?”
“She came as a concerned friend, not as an officer of the law,” Ritaestelle said. “Despite what went around town, I was never ‘let off the hook’ by her. Yes, that is what people said. A rich woman steals things and gets away with it. But I returned the earrings and never took anything from the pharmacy. Nancy wanted to make sure I was all right, even suggested I visit my physician.”
“Did you?” Kara said.
But before Ritaestelle could answer, there was the familiar sound of a knock at the back door.
Merlot stood, obviously anticipating that I would get up. “That’s Candace.”
“I smell supper,” she said once I let her in. After she came into the kitchen she, added, “And I see a party I wasn’t invited to.”
“I am so sorry. I should have thought to call you. Can I fix you a plate?” I said.
“I’m just giving you a hard time. But I am hungry.” She craned her neck, looking over the counter to see what was on the table.
“Hey there, Candace,” Kara said.
I noticed that Candace had a large manila envelope in one hand, and as she offered a “Hey there” back, she walked over to the built-in kitchen desk and set the envelope down.
Meanwhile, I got another plate from the cabinet above the dishwasher and silverware from the drawer.
Candace grabbed the plate and took off for the dining room table, saying, “My stomach thinks my throat has been cut.”
Ritaestelle laughed for the first time since we’d met. “Sounds like something a police officer would say.”
“How are you feeling, Miss Longworth?” Candace asked as she piled leftovers on her plate.
Guess it was a good thing I’d bought a chicken as large as a turkey after all.
“I am feeling quite well, thanks to the generous hospitality of Miss Jillian Hart,” Ritaestelle said. “I might have to adopt her.”
“She’s bighearted—that’s for sure.” Candace sat, and I handed her the knife and fork. She looked at Tom. “Did you move in when I wasn’t looking?”
Tom’s turn to laugh, but all this good humor from Candace had me thinking that she must have found something in the Cadillac—perhaps some piece of evidence that was now in that envelope she obviously didn’t want anyone to see.
While Candace dug in, Tom stood, checking his watch. “I have to go. All these new orders for security cameras and alarms have to be to my supplier by tomorrow.” He looked at me. “Walk me to the door?”
Once we were in the foyer, Tom took me in his arms. He whispered, “Tell Candace about Farley. After that phone call to you and what I learned about his less than stellar character, I don’t trust that guy.”
He kissed me good-bye, and as I rejoined the others, I felt guilty for kissing another man while my heart was once again heavy with grief. I could only keep telling myself that John would have wanted me to move on.
I put these thoughts aside when I realized that Kara and Candace were feuding again. These two were friends, even lived in the same apartment complex, yet here they were, sounding angry with each other—and not for the first time.
Kara was saying, “You can’t kick me out of my stepmother’s home.” She leaned back, arms folded across her chest. “I’m staying.”
“Then I’ll have to haul Miss Longworth down to the police station for questioning.” Candace took a large bite off her chicken leg and started chewing, never taking her eyes off Kara.
Kara raised an eyebrow. “That’s how you’re going to play this?”
As Candace finished chewing, Ritaestelle spoke up. “Kara, honey, I will be happy to share whatever it is Deputy Carson questions me about afterward, if you would like. I have no secrets. Can you abide by her request for now?”
Candace waved her chicken leg at Ritaestelle. “There you go. Problem solved.”
I didn’t say anything to Kara, but I implored her with my eyes and she finally relented. Her irritation seemed gone when she said, “I’m not allowed in a police interrogation room, and I suppose this is the equivalent for now.” She stood, smiling at Ritaestelle. “But I intend to take you up on that offer. I’ll be finishing up my work for tomorrow’s edition by midnight. Please call me.”
Time to walk Kara to the front door. I gave her a big hug, saying, “Thank you for making such a lovely dinner, and for being so nice about being kicked out. I’m sorry, though.”
She withdrew and gripped my upper arms. “The last thing I want is to stress you out. But make sure Ritaestelle calls me.”
I nodded and she left.
This time when I returned, Candace was clearing the table and Ritaestelle was standing at the sink, filling it with steaming, sudsy water.
“You need to be off your feet. This nurse’s orders.” I handed her a dish towel to dry her hands, gripped her elbow and led her into the living room.
“I can handle a few dirty dishes, Miss Jillian,” she said. “I sometimes help Hildie out at home after we have had guests. She is a stern woman unless she is in her kitchen. Then her personality simply brightens the world. I was hoping some of that might work for me tonight. And besides, you should not have to tidy up after me.”
“Please let me help you sit down. I’d feel terrible if you injured yourself again,” I said.
“She’s right,” Candace said, placing the last of the dirty dishes on the counter. She fetched the envelope from the desk.
“Candace came to talk to you,” I said. “I’ll handle kitchen duties while you two talk.”
Candace joined Ritaestelle.
Meanwhile, with the platter holding a chicken carcass nearby, I had four cats to please. I pulled off a mound of scraps and divided them on to four saucers. I set each dish down on the floor by the back door, giving each cat plenty of space. Isis wasn’t big on sharing, and I hoped to avoid a spat.
I used the full sink to soak the dishes. Everyone had filled their bellies, so there were no leftovers to put away. After I took out the trash, I joined Candace and Ritaestelle. While I’d been cleaning up, I’d tried hard not to listen to their conversation. But not listening was easier said than done. I’d heard, “Well, I never,” more than once from Ritaestelle.
The envelope and the pictures it had held were sitting on my coffee table. Ritaestelle’s face was ashen. I was instantly worried. She looked terrible. What if she had a heart condition I didn’t know about?
Ritaestelle looked up at me. “I can see that you are fretting about me, Miss Jillian. Calm yourself, dear. I will be fine once I understand all this better.” She turned to Candace. “If it is agreeable with you, I would like my friend to see these pictures.”
Candace gestured at them. “Sure. Have a look. We found these things in Miss Longworth’s car.”
I picked up the pictures. The first several were photos of the outside of the Cadillac. They were taken in a progression to show the seats and then the console that separated the front seats. The next picture showed the open console and revealed a Ziploc bag containing unopened cheap cosmetics, candy bars, a three-pack of Sharpie markers, and several pieces of turquoise jewelry with little price tag strings. It was impossible to see everything. But the next shot had the contents laid out on a cloth. It looked like someone had been to the Dollar Store and made a killing. Oh. Bad word choice.
I glanced at Candace. “Wow.”
She in turn looked at Ritaestelle, who said, “I know nothing about any of these items.”
