teased that she needed embroidered touches. At the moment, I didn’t feel like teasing.
She led me to her minimalist, uncluttered kitchen and handed me a knife, a small onion, and a red pepper. “You chop those while I beat the eggs,” she said. “Let’s make as much noise as we can.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Noise?”
She shrugged. “Whatever. Noise. Activity. Pounding, chopping. To help us cope with . . . earlier this morning.”
“Did you sleep,” I asked. “After?”
“Not much. Did you?”
Tearing seeds and white membranes from the pepper, I told her about my explorations.
“You should have asked me to come with you. Or any of my mothers.”
“Maybe they managed to sleep.”
She banged her whisk through the eggs and against the sides of her stainless steel bowl. “We should have all . . . gotten together to sew or something, instead of going back to our own apartments and lying awake.”
“I didn’t like him,” I said. It wasn’t a change of subject.
She agreed. “No, he was full of himself and he had a mean streak. But . . .”
“There was no reason to kill the guy,” I finished for her.
“As Opal would say, ‘live and let live.’” Haylee called the women who raised her, including Opal, her birth mother, by their first names. “Who would have done such a thing?”
“Uncle Allen suspects me.”
Haylee snorted. “He doesn’t know you.”
I waved my knife in the air. “I did say, in front of half the village, that I’d kill Mike if he bulldozed my cottage. And I have the impression that Uncle Allen is looking for revenge, not justice. I’m an outsider, a convenient scapegoat.”
“My mothers and I are outsiders, too.”
“Great,” I said. “Uncle Allen probably suspects us all.”
“Me, especially.” She poured the beaten eggs into an omelet pan. “Everyone knows I refused to go out with Mike a second time.” She shuddered.
“You know where he lived, right?”
“Yes.” She made an exaggeratedly stern face. “But this isn’t like when we lived in Manhattan and needed evidence to convince the police that Jasper had been stealing from clients. This time, the police know there was a crime. We’ll have to let them do the investigating.”
I slid the pepper and onions into the omelet. “Do you think Uncle Allen will do a decent job?”
“I’m not sure he can .” She grated cheddar over the veggies and eggs. “But you and I would never go snooping where we shouldn’t, right?”
I loaded two slices of her yummy homemade bread into her toaster. “Never. In New York, we had a perfect right to work late at night when no one else was around. And we didn’t have to break into Jasper’s office, either.” Our boss had been so sure he could get away with his crimes that he hadn’t bothered locking his office.
Haylee gazed out the window toward her car in the parking lot behind her mothers’ shops. “Mike showed me where he kept a key to his back door. And he said I was welcome to use it anytime. As if I would have wanted to visit him unannounced or go out with him again! You wouldn’t believe the rage he got into simply because that woman in the red car drove too slowly in a no-passing zone.”
“No wonder she hid her face when Mike barged into my shop.”
“When he did pass her, I was afraid he’d force her into a ditch. He had a sudden and horrible temper.”
“I’m guessing that someone else has a worse one,” I said. “Maybe someone who drives a black pickup.”
Haylee challenged, “What if Uncle Allen fails to follow up on that truck?”
“Then we’ll . . . do something.”
Haylee only laughed. We carried our omelets and toast to her great room and sat in simple yet comfortable armchairs. She pressed a button, and flames leaped from a stainless steel slot in the hearth. This latest version of a gas fireplace would have amazed the first people who had installed gas heating and lights in this Victorian apartment.
The omelet was
She led me to her minimalist, uncluttered kitchen and handed me a knife, a small onion, and a red pepper. “You chop those while I beat the eggs,” she said. “Let’s make as much noise as we can.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Noise?”
She shrugged. “Whatever. Noise. Activity. Pounding, chopping. To help us cope with . . . earlier this morning.”
“Did you sleep,” I asked. “After?”
“Not much. Did you?”
Tearing seeds and white membranes from the pepper, I told her about my explorations.
“You should have asked me to come with you. Or any of my mothers.”
“Maybe they managed to sleep.”
She banged her whisk through the eggs and against the sides of her stainless steel bowl. “We should have all . . . gotten together to sew or something, instead of going back to our own apartments and lying awake.”
“I didn’t like him,” I said. It wasn’t a change of subject.
She agreed. “No, he was full of himself and he had a mean streak. But . . .”
“There was no reason to kill the guy,” I finished for her.
“As Opal would say, ‘live and let live.’” Haylee called the women who raised her, including Opal, her birth mother, by their first names. “Who would have done such a thing?”
“Uncle Allen suspects me.”
Haylee snorted. “He doesn’t know you.”
I waved my knife in the air. “I did say, in front of half the village, that I’d kill Mike if he bulldozed my cottage. And I have the impression that Uncle Allen is looking for revenge, not justice. I’m an outsider, a convenient scapegoat.”
“My mothers and I are outsiders, too.”
“Great,” I said. “Uncle Allen probably suspects us all.”
“Me, especially.” She poured the beaten eggs into an omelet pan. “Everyone knows I refused to go out with Mike a second time.” She shuddered.
“You know where he lived, right?”
“Yes.” She made an exaggeratedly stern face. “But this isn’t like when we lived in Manhattan and needed evidence to convince the police that Jasper had been stealing from clients. This time, the police know there was a crime. We’ll have to let them do the investigating.”
I slid the pepper and onions into the omelet. “Do you think Uncle Allen will do a decent job?”
“I’m not sure he can .” She grated cheddar over the veggies and eggs. “But you and I would never go snooping where we shouldn’t, right?”
I loaded two slices of her yummy homemade bread into her toaster. “Never. In New York, we had a perfect right to work late at night when no one else was around. And we didn’t have to break into Jasper’s office, either.” Our boss had been so sure he could get away with his crimes that he hadn’t bothered locking his office.
Haylee gazed out the window toward her car in the parking lot behind her mothers’ shops. “Mike showed me where he kept a key to his back door. And he said I was welcome to use it anytime. As if I would have wanted to visit him unannounced or go out with him again! You wouldn’t believe the rage he got into simply because that woman in the red car drove too slowly in a no-passing zone.”
“No wonder she hid her face when Mike barged into my shop.”
“When he did pass her, I was afraid he’d force her into a ditch. He had a sudden and horrible temper.”
“I’m guessing that someone else has a worse one,” I said. “Maybe someone who drives a black pickup.”
Haylee challenged, “What if Uncle Allen fails to follow up on that truck?”
“Then we’ll . . . do something.”
Haylee only laughed. We carried our omelets and toast to her great room and sat in simple yet comfortable armchairs. She pressed a button, and flames leaped from a stainless steel slot in the hearth. This latest version of a gas fireplace would have amazed the first people who had installed gas heating and lights in this Victorian apartment.
The omelet was
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