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Authors: Diane Bator
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decorated with treasures probably brought back from many trips to Japan. While Walter wasn't actually Japanese, he'd fully embraced his wife's culture. The low black lacquer table was already set with tea for two. Was she expecting company, or had someone just left? "You have a lovely home."
Jade followed her gaze to the teacups, and her cheeks turned pink. "I have so many visitors these days I keep the table set. Excuse me. I will prepare fresh water."
She took away the teapot, flowers, and both cups and shuffled down the hallway. Beneath her kimono, she wore tabi socks and woven grass sandals, or zoris. Walter had brought Gilda a pair, but she ended up using them for decoration.
Gilda didn't believe Jade's explanation about the teacups. If someone else was here, why hadn't the person remained in the sunroom? She wandered around the room and admired the carvings and paintings amid the lush plants. Walter had a penchant for growing the most delicate plants. His orchids thrived where others died. She hoped Jade had the same green thumb to keep them flourishing.
"Sorry." Jade's clogs tapped the floor. "I have jasmine tea. Walter's personal blend from his garden. He drank some every evening."
"That would be great, thanks. I shouldn't impose. You probably have a million things to do." Gilda sat across from her hostess, who poured two thimble-sized cups of tea from a hand-painted pot.
She wore a stiff smile. "Walter's firstborn son, Donald, has taken charge of the funeral and assures me I have nothing to worry about."
"Oh, that's right." Gilda sipped her tea, sweeter than normal jasmine. The tea flowed more easily than their conversation. "I forgot he has older children. Did he have two or three from his first marriage?"
Jade's face tightened further. Taboo topic. "He had three children. Two boys and a girl."
Gilda winced. "It's nice they came to help. You must get along well with them."
"Wonderfully." The word strained through Jade's white teeth. She drank her tea in one gulp then poured a second cup.
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be nosy." Gilda finished her thimbleful of tea and set her cup down. "I only came to see if there was anything I could do."
Jade regained her composure and struggled with a small smile. "I hear you have been most helpful with the police and Walter's students. I appreciate you taking the time to come by to check on me. You and Sensei Mick have been good to us."
"I should go then. If you need anythingâ"
She gave a slight bow. "I will call."
Right after donkeys held public office. Gilda grimaced. She'd made a mess of the entire visit. Her stomach churned. Jade was the most passive widow she'd ever met. Either the stoicism of her culture had been deeply ingrained in her, or Gilda was looking into the dark eyes of a murderer. She shuddered to even consider the possibility.
"I really am sorry about Walter."
"Thank you." When Jade stood, her kimono didn't hold so much as a crinkle but fell smooth and perfect, like someone ironed it the instant she stood. They walked toward the teak front door, footsteps echoing on the bamboo flooring. As Gilda reached for the doorknob, a door slammed upstairs, and she jumped away from the front door.
Jade's eyes widened. Then she gave a small laugh. "The wind. It slams the guestroom door. Walter always laughed at me when I would jump."
"Oh. I thought it might have been one of Walter's kids."
Her face darkened to the color of a crimson rose. "They choose to stay in a hotel when they visit so we do not get in each other's way."
Gilda nodded and glanced up the staircase to the open hallway when a closed door opened slowly. Someone moved inside then the door shut, quieter this time. A second person was in the house. A faceless man who wore a yellow robe.
Whatever Jade Levy was up to, she was far from alone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
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The plants in her backyard garden welcomed home both Gilda and her whirling mind. They seemed to smile when she watered them,
Jade followed her gaze to the teacups, and her cheeks turned pink. "I have so many visitors these days I keep the table set. Excuse me. I will prepare fresh water."
She took away the teapot, flowers, and both cups and shuffled down the hallway. Beneath her kimono, she wore tabi socks and woven grass sandals, or zoris. Walter had brought Gilda a pair, but she ended up using them for decoration.
Gilda didn't believe Jade's explanation about the teacups. If someone else was here, why hadn't the person remained in the sunroom? She wandered around the room and admired the carvings and paintings amid the lush plants. Walter had a penchant for growing the most delicate plants. His orchids thrived where others died. She hoped Jade had the same green thumb to keep them flourishing.
"Sorry." Jade's clogs tapped the floor. "I have jasmine tea. Walter's personal blend from his garden. He drank some every evening."
"That would be great, thanks. I shouldn't impose. You probably have a million things to do." Gilda sat across from her hostess, who poured two thimble-sized cups of tea from a hand-painted pot.
She wore a stiff smile. "Walter's firstborn son, Donald, has taken charge of the funeral and assures me I have nothing to worry about."
"Oh, that's right." Gilda sipped her tea, sweeter than normal jasmine. The tea flowed more easily than their conversation. "I forgot he has older children. Did he have two or three from his first marriage?"
Jade's face tightened further. Taboo topic. "He had three children. Two boys and a girl."
Gilda winced. "It's nice they came to help. You must get along well with them."
"Wonderfully." The word strained through Jade's white teeth. She drank her tea in one gulp then poured a second cup.
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be nosy." Gilda finished her thimbleful of tea and set her cup down. "I only came to see if there was anything I could do."
Jade regained her composure and struggled with a small smile. "I hear you have been most helpful with the police and Walter's students. I appreciate you taking the time to come by to check on me. You and Sensei Mick have been good to us."
"I should go then. If you need anythingâ"
She gave a slight bow. "I will call."
Right after donkeys held public office. Gilda grimaced. She'd made a mess of the entire visit. Her stomach churned. Jade was the most passive widow she'd ever met. Either the stoicism of her culture had been deeply ingrained in her, or Gilda was looking into the dark eyes of a murderer. She shuddered to even consider the possibility.
"I really am sorry about Walter."
"Thank you." When Jade stood, her kimono didn't hold so much as a crinkle but fell smooth and perfect, like someone ironed it the instant she stood. They walked toward the teak front door, footsteps echoing on the bamboo flooring. As Gilda reached for the doorknob, a door slammed upstairs, and she jumped away from the front door.
Jade's eyes widened. Then she gave a small laugh. "The wind. It slams the guestroom door. Walter always laughed at me when I would jump."
"Oh. I thought it might have been one of Walter's kids."
Her face darkened to the color of a crimson rose. "They choose to stay in a hotel when they visit so we do not get in each other's way."
Gilda nodded and glanced up the staircase to the open hallway when a closed door opened slowly. Someone moved inside then the door shut, quieter this time. A second person was in the house. A faceless man who wore a yellow robe.
Whatever Jade Levy was up to, she was far from alone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Â
The plants in her backyard garden welcomed home both Gilda and her whirling mind. They seemed to smile when she watered them,
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