“No,” she said, “outside of the fact that she was stabbed and that she had a rental car and was due to fly back out the same day. I went to the new Chinese food place—or the one that I didn’t know about beforehand, the one on the way from the airport back to here—and they said that she was there, waiting for somebody who didn’t show, so she left after eating.”
“Interesting,” Nan said, fascinated. “I wonder where she went.”
“Well, Mack thinks she went to meet this same person but at another location.”
“And where would you go after a meal?”
“Well, for me, it would be coffee,” Doreen said instantly.
“But not everybody drinks coffee after their meal,” Nan reminded her.
“Maybe not, but a lot of people do. And, if the person didn’t eat, maybe coffee is what they wanted instead.”
The two women mulled over that possibility, and then Nan said, “You know what? If I’m thinking of the same Chinese food place, then a Starbucks is not far from there.”
Doreen thought about it and said, “I saw one. It’s inside a grocery store though. I don’t think it’s a real Starbucks.”
“Oh, it is so,” Nan said in a dry tone.
Doreen waved off her comment. “You know what I mean. It’s not a place where you could go in and sit down to meet with somebody.”
“Well, that’s true,” Nan said, “but there are so many in town. There’s probably one within walking distance from anywhere in Kelowna.”
“But neither her body nor the rental vehicle were found in that same area as the Chinese food place,” Doreen said, “so she must have gone somewhere else, and then she was found a few hours after that.”
“Ah, so the killer had to be whoever she went to meet then.”
“Maybe not had to be but it sure makes that person the prime suspect,” Doreen said. Then she went on, “Guess who phoned me this morning?”
Nan looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Who?”
“Mathew,” she said.
Nan’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Yeah,” and then she told her about the odd conversation.
Nan immediately started shaking her head. “Good Lord, please tell me that you’re not considering it.”
“Considering what?” she asked.
“Going back to him.”
“Oh, of course not!” she exclaimed. “Jeez, Nan. Ugh. No. I had a terrible time when I was with him. Why would I ever go back to that? Look what I have here,” she said, and she waved her arm around at the house and the garden. “And thanks to you, I actually have a good life and fun,” she said, “and I get to do things on my own.”
“Good,” Nan said, “because that makes the move to Rosemoor all the more worthwhile.”
“Ouch,” Doreen said, “you’re making me feel bad.”
“Nonsense,” she said firmly. “It had been on my mind for a long time, but I never thought I would get you to leave him.”
“No,” she said. “I probably wouldn’t have. Not until he actually made the move to do it himself.”
“That’s only because he had replaced you.”
Doreen shuddered at the word. “Can we call it something else?” she muttered. “That’s a little harsh.”
“It’s not harsh at all,” Nan said. “It’s reality.”
“Ouch again,” she said, “but you’re right. It’s one of those realities that I don’t really like to look at very much.”
“That’s too bad because this is one that you need to take a good hard look at, so you don’t ever get into that same situation again.”
“And, once again, that’s a bit too much reality for me,” Doreen said.
Nan hopped to her feet and said, “Let’s go check the cake.”
And again, the two women trooped into the house, opened the oven door, and this time Nan exclaimed, “Oh, that looks wonderful.”
Using the oven mitts, Doreen very carefully pulled out the cakes, put them on top of the stove, and then looked expectantly at Nan, who said, “Now shut off the oven.” She pointed out how the dial worked and how to turn it off. Doreen turned it off carefully and even stood there for a few minutes to make sure the light didn’t come back on.
Then she looked at Nan, with a triumphant smile. “Now that,” she said, “looks like a cake.”
Chapter 6
Sunday Dinnertime …
Doreen dozed outside in the sun, replete after more tea and a piece of cake, when a warm voice woke her up.
“Did you make cake?” Mack asked, with an odd note in his voice.
She smiled up at him, patted her tummy, and said, “Nan came up and showed me how.”
“Ah, so Nan made it.”
Doreen shook her head. “No, I made it, thank you,” she said, “but Nan showed me every step of the way.” Remembering the eggs in the measuring cup, she said, “And I mean, every step.” He looked at her quizzically, and she shook her head. “No way. Some things are just too embarrassing to tell.”
His grin grew wider. “I promise I won’t tell anybody, and I really could use a laugh today.”
She immediately shook her head. “No, sir. I’ve had enough of being the butt of everybody’s jokes,” she said. “If this ever got around town, they’d never leave me alone.”
“Ha,” he said. “What’d you do? Put something in the wrong place?”
She shook her head.
“Put in salt instead of sugar?” he asked. “Everybody has done that at least once.”
She looked at him and went, “Ooh, that would be gross.”
“It is,” he said. “I did that one myself. What then? Dang. What else could it be? It’s a pound cake,” he said, “so there aren’t too many ingredients. Did you try it with a pound of frozen butter?”
She shook her head.
He said, “I won’t let up. I surely deserve something to smile about today.”
“Only if you promise to not laugh at me,” she said in a warning voice.
Immediately his
