Corpse in the Crystal Ball (18 page)

Later Sunday night I wanted nothing more than to crawl into my jammies, make some hot cocoa, and read a good book. I’d had such a long, exhausting day poring over all the planes, trains, and bus records for any outsiders who were in Divinity on the evening of Isabel’s murder. Not to mention checking out the hotels and asking around town about anyone else who might have driven in.

I’d only found three who didn’t live here who might possibly be connected to Isabel Gonzales. She’d made a phone call to one, and the other two had called her.

A man in his midtwenties named Ted Baxter came in on a plane from New York City the day before Isabel’s murder, and he was staying at the Divinity Hotel. I recognized his name and remembered seeing him in the lobby talking to the front desk clerk when I first went there to question Chuck Webb.

A woman in her early thirties named Roz Sanderson arrived on the train from New York City on the morning of Isabel’s murder, and she was also staying at the Divinity Hotel. I didn’t know what she looked like at all.

And finally Selena Gonzales rode in on the bus from the city the morning after Isabel’s death. I didn’t see her name on the bus records, but I’d seen her get off the bus with my own eyes. I guess that ruled her out, even though she’d made it clear she and her sister weren’t exactly close. In fact, she’d seemed quite bitter over her not sharing the wealth, so to speak. Yet she did seem genuinely upset over her sister’s death.

I hadn’t had time to really look into any of these people yet today. I had planned to do a little research on the Internet when I got home from the police station, but Kevin had called. After the little bit of encouragement I’d given him in church this morning, he hadn’t let any time pass for me to change my mind.

I pulled on my knee-high boots, tugged down yet another one of my flowy skirts—at least this one was made of a fancier mauve lace-covered satin—and fastened the buttons on my long-sleeved seafoam green satin blouse. Fluffing my hair, I checked my appearance in my bedroom mirror and pinched my pale cheeks to add color. I couldn’t do much about the dark circles beneath my eyes, but I hadn’t had the heart to say no again.

Grabbing my fringed purse, I slung the strap over my shoulder and headed out my door. My research would have to wait until morning.

I had a date.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and rounded the corner
to check my reflection one last time in the powder room mirror, and gasped. “Morty! I told you to stop stealing Granny’s money or we’re both going to be in big trouble.”

He stood in front of the storage closet beneath the stairs and dropped the hundred-dollar bill from his mouth, then shook his head hard. No amount of shaking was going to loosen the salmon-colored bow tie around his neck. Oh, let’s face it. It was pretty much pink. What had Granny been thinking? He blinked up at me with his jet-black eyes and meowed pathetically.

“I know and I’m sorry, but stealing her money isn’t going to make her stop playing dress-up with you. You have to learn to say no in your own unique way.” I snorted. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t say no to Granny any more than he could. Look who was still driving—or should I say abusing—my bug.

I scratched Morty behind his snowy white ears and picked up the money, stuffing it into my purse. I’d have to sneak it back into its hiding place in Granny’s room when I got home. No time now. “Hang in there, buddy. I’ll be back soon.”

He just blinked at me, then trotted off with his nose in the air.

“I’m so happy you finally agreed to go to dinner with that nice young man,” Granny Gert said from the kitchen as I entered. “I baked cookies in case you invite him in for coffee and dessert.” She winked. “They’re his favorite. Don’t worry, I won’t wait up.”

Oh brother
. “Granny. It’s just dinner. And how do you know they’re his favorite?”

“
You
might not spend much time with him, but that
doesn’t mean I don’t. He comes in for milk and cookies every day when he delivers the mail. He’s such a doll. You really should get to know him.” She wiped her hands on her apron and hugged me hard. “I just don’t want to see you get your heart broken by pining away after some guy who’s not ready for a relationship and might never be.”

“I’m not pining after anyone. I’m the one who said no to Detective Stone first, remember?”

“But who’s the one saying no now?” she pointed out gently.

That stung, but I took a deep breath and shrugged as though it meant nothing.

“You might pretend like you don’t care, but I know you and that big heart of yours. You wouldn’t be trying so hard to clear his name if he meant nothing to you. Just be careful. He has a lot on his plate right now, what with being suspended and protecting Selena and all. Just be open to letting others in. That’s all I’m saying, dear.”

I nodded. “I know. And I am. Or I wouldn’t have said yes to dinner tonight.” I smiled, trying to convince her as well as myself that was the utmost truth.

The doorbell rang, and Morty darted excitedly from out of nowhere. No rattling shutters, no hissing cat, just easy acceptance. Morty was my best pal and a great judge of character. That alone should make me give the guy a chance. Not to mention my best friend, Jo, was Kevin’s biggest champion.

I put a bit more effort into my smile this time and answered the door. Kevin stood there looking very handsome in fawn brown designer pants with a ripe peach button-down shirt open at the neck and the sleeves rolled up. Just the right
blend of dressy yet casual. The guy had better taste than my mother, and that was saying something.

“Hi, Kevin. You’re early.”

“I wanted to make sure you knew there was no chance of me standing you up again tonight. Not that I ever intended to in the first place.” He held up his cast and gave me a sheepish smile, then held out a beautiful bouquet of the most gorgeous tulips I’d ever seen. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the flowers were imported from somewhere. I’d never seen any like this in Divinity. They had to have cost a bundle.

“Thank you so much. They’re gorgeous. I hope you didn’t go to much trouble for these.” I took the flowers from his good hand and our fingers brushed, the feeling surprisingly pleasant. Maybe there was hope for us, after all.

“I wanted you to have something that reflected how I see you, but I’m afraid they pale in comparison.” His eyes never left mine, and I felt the heat flood my cheeks.

Morty intertwined himself, doing figure eights around Kevin’s legs, and of course, leaving white fur all over his pants in the process.

“Morty!” I wailed. “I’m so sorry, Kevin. I think I have a lint roller in the junk drawer.”

“No need.” He squatted down and gave Morty a good rub behind the ears. “Morty and I are buds. Aren’t we, pal?”

Morty leaned into Kevin’s touch while swatting at his cast with his paw.

“Morty, stop that.”

“It’s all right. It doesn’t hurt. It probably looks like a scratching post to him.” Kevin chuckled, then stood, and Morty went back to being his haughty self and trotted off.

I was stunned. Morty hated Mitch and had only ever warmed up to Sean, but come on. Who didn’t warm up to Sean? And Morty liked Granny, of course, but I hadn’t expected him to take such an interest in Kevin. I took it as a sign. Maybe it really was time to move on.

“I like you, Mr. Brown,” I said quietly.

Kevin’s eyes met mine and crinkled at the corners. “I’m thrilled to hear that, Miss Meadows,” he responded slowly. “Because I definitely like you.”

“Good.”

He grinned wider. “All right, then. Shall we go to dinner?”

“I’m starved.”

“Nice. I especially like a woman who isn’t afraid to eat.”

I laughed. “Then you’re gonna love me.”

“Careful. I might already.” His eyes sparkled.

I bit my bottom lip. “Let’s start with dinner. Then we’ll talk.”

He stared at my lips, looking hungry indeed. “Fair enough,” he finally said, tearing his gaze back up to mine. “After you, m’lady.”

“Why thank you, good sir. You’re such a gentleman.”

“My mother would shoot me if I weren’t.” He chuckled.

“Seriously?”

“You have no idea.”

Only now he made me
want
to have an idea. He made me want to get to know a whole lot more about him, period.

Ten minutes later we pulled up in front of Nikko’s. I’d always loved the simple Tuscan-style decorating theme inspired by nature. Nikko’s family hailed directly from Italy,
stretching back for centuries, and he was proud of his roots. The Tuscan style combined comfortable, worn, loved pieces and had no pretense. When dining here, you felt like you could escape city life and embrace the culture of the country. Everything looked rustic, warm, and inviting. Nothing shiny and new.

The outside walls were made from sandstone brick with terra-cotta roof tiles. Deep-set windows were protected by rustic wooden shutters. We walked on paths set with stone and brick through the courtyard in the front with a water fountain in the center, surrounded by the most beautiful plants and flowers. Marble statues stood proud in the middle of the fountain, and tall cypress trees swayed gracefully in the evening spring breeze.

I was in heaven.

Entering the restaurant, I decided Kevin was right. This was exactly what I needed tonight. The inside walls had been covered in a natural stone, and the ceilings hung low. The room was small and dark but intimate. The windows were left uncovered to capture the natural light from outside. Everything was decorated in the earth colors of terra-cotta, brick, ocher, greens, and golden yellow, adding to the cozy ambiance.

Antique rugs covered wide wooden floor planks, and the furniture was made from rough-sawn local wood with a straight, simple design. Shorter versions of the long wooden harvest tables were strategically placed, and accents of marble, tile, and wrought iron adorned the restaurant. Cupboards and armoires held dishes and linen, and open shelves displayed ceramics and pottery. Finally, glass jars of pasta, braids of onions and garlic, and jars of olives and flowers
were scattered about the restaurant to give that Italian, home-cooking, kitchen feel.

I’d barely taken it all in before we were seated at our table—despite the waiting dinner crowd—and we’d already ordered.

“How’d you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Get us seated so fast. And the service is incredible. I never get served this quickly.” I glanced back at the people who’d been waiting since forever, and they didn’t look happy.

“What can I say? These Italians love me. I’ve got pull.” He brushed his fingernails over his shoulder like a big shot, then laughed. “Truthfully, I live alone, so I pretty much eat out all the time. I love Italian so I eat here most of all. Making friends in the restaurant business is a good thing when you’re trying to impress someone.”

“Does that mean you’re trying to impress me?”

“I’m working on it. How am I doing?”

“I’d say you’re sliding into first base.” My God, I was turning into Jo. I couldn’t believe the things that were spilling out of my mouth. There was just something about him that made me want to live dangerously and jump right in.

“You don’t slide into first base.” He glanced at my lips. “You run right through.”

“I promise I won’t tag you out.”

“Since my first-base coach is telling me to go for it, how can I resist?” He leaned in halfway.

I leaned in the other half to meet him.

“Dinner is served,” our waiter said, and I jumped back as he stepped between us and set our plates before us.

A flash of annoyance crossed Kevin’s features, but then
like the gentleman he was, he planted a smile on his face and thanked the waiter. I personally was ready to rip off the waiter’s apron and tie him up with it. Kevin obviously had a lot more patience and control than I did.

I dug into my tortellini, took a sip of my beer, and was comforted as always. When I felt human again, I asked, “So tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Are you an only child? Are you close to your parents? I don’t care. Anything. Just tell me something about you.”

“Well, I actually have four brothers and one sister, with lots of cousins and aunts and uncles. My parents are still alive, and we’re all very close. Family means everything to me. I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like to since we’re scattered all over the place. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do anything for them. How about you?” He ate his lasagna and sipped his red wine with a certain amount of class and elegance, causing me to slow down and try for a bit more refinement.

I dabbed at the corners of my mouth with my napkin, trying to look delicate but feeling like an impostor. “I’m an only child,” I finally answered. “Unlike you, I unfortunately don’t get along with my parents all that well. But I love my granny,” I added, more upbeat. “And Morty, of course. Pathetically simple, I’m afraid.”

“Your granny is something special. You should feel lucky.

“Oh believe me, I—” I dropped my fork. “Oh my God. I can’t believe he’s here.”

“Who?” Kevin looked over his shoulder.

“A guy—I—well, I can’t really discuss it. Just some guy I’m looking into regarding Isabel’s murder.”

Kevin took a closer look at the guy behind us. “That guy over there?”

“I really can’t say anything more because the investigation is ongoing.”

“No need. I’ve always been good at games …and reading between the lines.” He studied me curiously.

“Good, then you must already know I need to go home now and do the research I’ve put off so I’ll be ready for a certain questioning tomorrow morning?” I gave him my best
I’m sorry
expression.

“Far be it from me to interfere with justice.” He winked and signaled the waiter for our check.

“Now I think it’s
my
turn to make dinner up to you.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I always did love the game of baseball.”

“I can tell.” I felt my cheeks heat. “Something tells me you were an all-star back in the day. I doubt you struck out very often.”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out.”

“I love extra innings.”