Belle, sat at a corner table, and I led Kara over for introductions. Since I wasn’t sure whether Kara liked my calling her my stepdaughter, I simply told Belle that Kara was John’s daughter.
“Aren’t you the cutest thing?” Belle said. Her coral lipstick, as usual, was misapplied. The top lip had a straight line today, but the color on the bottom went well below her lip. Sometimes the top lip was as messy as her lower lip, but two things never changed: It was always wrong, and it always made me want to take out a tissue and fix it.
Kara’s cheeks colored, and I guessed she’d decided that cute was not her favorite word. But to her credit, she kept quiet about this and said, “Thanks. This place of yours is cute, too.”
Belle leaned close to me and whispered, “We got a whole lot of visitors in town since the murders. I heard you was with Candace when she found that first body. Horrible thing, poison. Just a miserable way to die. Heard they found strychnine at Rufus’s place of business, too.”
“What?” I said.
“Morris was in for his coffee and a nice big Danish-all sniffly and out of work on a sick day. He’s the one who told me.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Morris is usually more careful about keeping the details of a case from the public,” I said, glancing Candace’s way. She wouldn’t like this slip one bit.
“The man’s sick. Blame it on a fever and forget you heard what I said.” Belle held her thumb and forefinger- both fingernails painted coral like her lips-an inch apart. “He’s this close to retirement. And we don’t want to get him in trouble.”
“Probably best if you don’t tell anyone else, don’t you think?” I said.
Belle examined those well- manicured nails to avoid my question.
“You already have?” I was again thinking how Candace would react to the leak in the case. And then I reminded myself that this was Mercy and I should quit worrying about who knew what.
“I mentioned it to a few people. Poor Rufus is dead, Jillian. What are we gonna do? Talk about the rain?”
“You’re absolutely right.” I glanced at Kara and could see by her wide eyes that she was surprised at how much Belle knew about the case.
“Have these visitors you mentioned earlier been in here?” I asked.
“They’re here now.” She nodded quickly at the other corner without looking at the four people seated at a table.
A woman and three men. I recognized the woman from the newspaper photo I’d found on the Internet the other day, despite the change in hair color from blond to brunette: Sarah VanKleet. I assumed the two young men with her were her sons, and the older man with his wavy head of steel gray hair and matching goatee was the boyfriend. But he was no boy; that’s for sure. He looked like an actor in one of those Viagra ads.
Kara said, “That’s the dead man’s family?”
“Well, aren’t you cute and smart. You must be proud of her, Jillian,” Belle said.
“I am proud, but I can’t take credit. She’s an accomplished young woman,” I said.
Candace arrived at the table with our coffee. Kara picked up the largest cup and sat down in the chair that offered her the best view of the town visitors.
Candace took her seat, and the strangers captured her attention, too. Out of the side of her mouth she said, “That’s them, isn’t it?”
Belle laughed, and her generous belly jiggled with the effort. “See what I was saying, Jillian? There are no secrets in this town.”
“Hush,” Candace whispered. “Don’t want them noticing us as much as we notice them.”
“Oh, Candy, you are such a naive young thing,” Belle said. “That woman over there is no dummy. By the way, I’m taking up a collection for Rufus. Word is he was about broke. Might not be enough for a casket or a burial.”
I reached in my bag and pulled out my checkbook. I wrote a fifty-dollar check from my money-market emergency fund since I’d used up most of my routine monthly cash. I gave it to Belle. Candace pulled a crumpled twenty from her pocket and handed the cash to her, too.
“Thank you, ladies,” Belle said.
Without glancing our way, Kara said. “You two can leave. I’ll be happy here with my laptop and my excellent coffee.” Kara had already set her computer case on the table.
Candace glanced at her watch. “The family should be leaving soon. They have a meeting with Chief Baca in about twenty minutes.”
“Then we need to get to your place and fetch your overnight bag.” I looked at Belle. “Kara is a writer, and she would love to hear some stories about Mercy.”
“Does she have all day? ’Cause you know me, Jillian,” Belle said with another laugh. “But what’s this about an overnight bag?” She glanced back and forth between Candace and me.
“Um… they might be painting my apartment, so I’m staying with Jillian,” Candace said.
“Now, don’t go lying to Belle. I won’t pass on that you’re staying with Jillian to protect her,” Belle said. “Even though it was passed on to me not an hour ago. I just wanted you to confirm my source.”
“Let me guess. Billy told you,” Candace said through her teeth.
“I swear that boy knows everything,” Belle replied. “He came in on the heels of that bunch in the corner. Think he followed them over here?”
“It would not surprise me,” Candace said.
I tugged on Candace’s arm. “We need to go.” I looked at Kara. “I don’t mind you sitting close and listening in on the conversation over there, but you need to pass anything important on to Candace.”
“I do?” Kara looked momentarily confused. “Oh… to help with the case. They’re suspects, aren’t they?” Belle put her hand on Kara’s forearm and looked straight into her eyes. “You should act like you’re busy, but keep both ears open. I’ll sit here with you and show you how it’s done.” She winked at Kara and then made a shooing gesture with her free hand at Candace and me. “Go on about your business. We got this covered.”
We hurried out, and once we were back in my minivan headed toward Candace’s apartment, she burst out laughing.
“What a great idea dropping Kara with Belle. Kara will get the complete lowdown on Mercy, and we might end up with useful information.”
“You know Belle believes every citizen of Mercy is her child,” I said. “I feel so calm when I’m around her. And speaking of that, promise me you’ll stay calm when I tell you what I just heard.”
“Of course I’ll stay calm. I’m always calm,” she said.
“And I’m Michelle Obama. Let me just spit this out. Belle announced to Kara and me that they found strychnine at What’s Bugging You.”
A long silence followed, and I took my eyes off the road for a second to look over at Candace. Her jaw was set, and she didn’t appear calm at all.
But after a deep breath, she said, “I am most surely glad I heard this before I walked into the station. A cop who’s the last to know about a key piece of information looks stupid.”
A long and very quiet five minutes later we pulled into the apartment complex parking lot.
We always visit at my place because Candace’s apartment remains mostly barren. There’s a mattress, a treadmill, a futon and a television, but that’s about it. She spends little time at home and only rents the place to have space away from her overprotective, overinterested mother, who would have preferred that she still live at home.
I packed her underwear, a few T-shirts and jeans into a canvas tote she threw at me. Meanwhile, she grabbed her toiletries and a uniform that had just come from the dry cleaners. We were almost out the door when Candace realized that the telephone-and-answering-machine combo that sat on the living room floor was blinking with at least one unchecked message.
“Wait,” Candace said. “That’s probably from my mom. She might need something.” She set her bag and uniform down and went over to the telephone.
But when she knelt and pressed PLAY, a familiar raspy whisper made my heart skip. The male voice said, “Don’t think you can protect her. You want your friend safe, you tell her she’s done playing investigator.”
Candace stood and pointed at the phone. “You don’t tell me what to do, you turd. You don’t tell Jillian what to do, either.” She looked at me. “He’s not getting close to you. I promise.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t speak.
