I need to talk to Madge. Get her thoughts. So I dial her number.
When Madge answers I say, “I’ve been thinking about Pattie. All the gals in her shop think she’s secretly seeing someone. But what could that have to do with Tina’s death?”
Madge sighs. “I don’t know, but Woo-Woo Beth said an affair was involved.”
“True. But I still find it strange Pattie lied to me.” I fill Madge in on my conversation with Mary.
“That is odd.” Madge is quiet for a few moments. “You would’ve never given it a second thought if Pattie had just said she was meeting a friend rather than make up a story about getting supplies. Unless Mary is mistaken and Pattie really does get certain supplies in Monterey?”
“I’ll have to explore that a bit while she cuts my hair tomorrow.” I stir my pot while I think. “So, if not Pattie, how about Emily Kingsley? But other than having a fight with her husband, and being guilty of a little flower switching, I can’t see how she’d be involved.”
Madge says, “That brings us right back to your uncle.”
“Yep. Now all we have to do is prove it.” Which is always the hardest part.
“That’s the plan. I have to run. Catch up later?”
“Sure.” I turn down the heat under my pan. “I’ll call you after my hair appointment tomorrow. Maybe I’ll have more answers about Pattie then.” I hang up, but a part of me keeps fighting that niggling voice in the back of my head that reminds me that just because my uncle is the easiest and most obvious suspect, we don’t have any evidence to support a crime.
The back door opens, and Dylan strolls in. “Hi. Something smells good.”
“Hi, back.” I turn and face him. “How often is the first suspect the one who did it?”
Dylan cocks his head. “You mean your uncle?”
“Yeah.” I add heavy cream, fresh basil, and mushrooms to leftover roasted chicken. I’ll toss in some parmesan and chili flakes for punch and pour it all over fettuccini noodles. No one will be the wiser that they’re eating leftovers.
“Not as often as I’d like.” Dylan joins me at the stove. “I’ve been tempted to throw your uncle in jail for being such a jerk to you. But there’s this thing called the law.”
“Pesky detail. But it must mean you still love me.” I drop the noodles into boiling water. “I had my doubts when you dumped me to see Beth earlier.”
The corner of Dylan’s mouth tilts. “Is that your way of asking what Beth told me?”
“It is. So, spill please. Especially if she has any details about Pattie. The gals at the shop think she’s seeing a married man twice a month in Monterey.”
Dylan’s brows arch. “At a place called The Blue Hippo?”
“Yes!” I nearly drop my spoon. That’s the restaurant where Pattie claims she saw my uncle and Tina. I’ve spent most of my life doubting Beth’s so-called powers, but maybe I need to open up my mind a bit. Or, perhaps this is a small town, and secrets are hard to hide. “Did Beth say who the married guy is?”
Dylan shakes his head. “I got the same story you did from Beth. About jealousy and someone scorned. But then her eyes got weird, and she added the restaurant part.”
I don’t even want to think about those weird eyes. “Beth didn’t use the word scorned with me. But then, who hasn’t been scorned sometime in their life? A good charlatan uses common words all people can relate to.”
Dylan leans closer. “Why does it scare you so much to think Beth might really have some special insight?”
“I…it doesn’t… I’m not.” I cross my arms. “I just think it’s odd.”
“Not buying it.” Dylan smiles and draws me close. “Your turn to spill.”
Tears burn in the back of my eyes. I don’t want to tell him, but maybe talking about it will help. My heart hurts whenever I think of it.
I slip a hand on the side of his stubbly face and stare into his pretty blue eyes. “Beth told me something when we were kids that—”
My dad’s voice calls out, “Is it chow time? We’re starving.” He, Brittany, and Meg storm the kitchen.
Meg skids to a stop. “Oh. Sorry. Are we interrupting?”
Dad slips into the nook. “I hope so. Any man who thinks I could kill Tina shouldn’t be kissing my daughter.”
I sigh and start to move away, but Dylan holds me in place.
He whispers, “We need to finish this later. Promise?” And then he kisses me.
The man makes my toes tingle, so I allow myself to enjoy the sensation for a few moments before I put an end to the fun. “Promise. Will you pour the wine? But not on my dad’s head, please?”
Dylan chuckles. “Maybe you have psychic powers too.”
After the noodles are done, I bring the food to the table and join everyone. “So, I have a question for all of you. Why am I the only one here who didn’t know Brittany has an uncle named Andrew?”
The blood drains from Brittany’s face as her eyes lock with my father’s. “Did you tell her?”
“Nope.” Dad fills his plate with chicken and mushroom fettuccini. “I was sworn to secrecy.”
I turn to Meg. “Seeing as I didn’t even know mom adopted Brittany until I arrived in town, you all must’ve taken an oath.”
My sister takes a gulp of her wine. “Andrew’s not a nice guy, Sawyer. Brittany is better off with you.”
I glance at Dylan. “And you? What’s your excuse for not telling me?”
Dylan breaks a roll in two and hands me half. “I figured you knew about him. And that he’d never be a good
