Hare Today, Dead Tomorrow (21 page)

“I’ll say,” I muttered, checking out the huge dent that was the result of his obvious intellectual deficiency in the area of spatial relations. Turning back to Nick, I said, “I’ll help you unpack.”

“Thanks!” Nick leaned over and gave me a kiss. Unfortunately, it was the kind Mike Brady used to give Carol Brady on
The Brady Bunch.

“Hey, don’t I get a real kiss?” I protested. “After all, you and I are about to start cohabitating. Shouldn’t we mark that with something symbolic?”

He grinned. “Later. After Ollie’s gone and I’m all settled in.”

With that, he handed me the shoe box.

“What’s this?”

“You mean
who’s
this. Leilani. Her tank is packed up with the rest of my stuff.”

Leilani was the Jackson’s chameleon Nick and I had brought home from our fateful trip to Hawaii a year earlier, a trip that had almost meant the end for us. While I thought we were there to snorkel and eat shave ice, Nick had surprised me by asking me to marry him. My less-than-enthusiastic reaction had prompted us to split.

Fortunately, fate—or, more accurately, my first foray into murder investigation—had brought us back together a few weeks after we returned home. But I still thought of Leilani as the best part of that entire episode. I suspected that Nick did too. I carried the box carefully, not wanting to add to the trauma the poor creature had already endured simply from driving over. I brought her into the house, placed the shoe box on the bed, and closed the door to keep curious kitty cats away from their new housemate.

By the time I got back outside, Nick had opened up the truck. He grabbed a carton of what looked like very heavy books and began U-Hauling them toward the front door. I wandered around to the back, figuring I’d do my share of the heavy lifting—then froze.

“What’s all this?” I asked, blinking in disbelief as I glanced inside.

“Just some of my stuff,” Nick returned cheerfully.

I felt as if my cottage had just been selected to be the winter headquarters of the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus. I checked behind me, hoping I wouldn’t see a team of elephants trundling up the driveway.

No elephants, thank goodness. But plenty of clothes on hangers and in shopping bags, cardboard cartons of books and CDs, electronics with long, dangling cords, must-have housewares like a rice cooker and a juicer, boxes piled high with dress shoes and worn-out sneakers, lamps, rolled-up posters, and black Hefty bags whose contents I could only imagine.

“I guess I never realized you owned so many things,” I said feebly.

Nick just laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to make it fit. I’m really good at that kind of thing.”

I was wondering what else I’d be learning about Nick in the days and weeks to come when I noticed Betty trotting toward me from the Big House, waving.

“So today’s the big day!” she cried, her blue eyes twinkling.

“This is it,” I replied hoarsely, already wondering if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.

“How exciting! In fact, why don’t you and Nick stop by tonight for a little celebration? After you’ve both had a chance to get settled, of course. I’m sure Winston and I can find a bottle of bubbly to mark the occasion.”

“Sounds like fun,” I told her.

Certainly more fun than watching my beloved little cottage being transformed into a climate-controlled room at one of those self-storage facilities.

“Isn’t this nice!” Betty cooed, glancing over at me and beaming. “To think that just last week, Jessica and I were the only ones who lived here on the estate. And now we have two fine gentlemen in residence!”

I had to admit that taking a break at the Big House was a great relief. While the U-Haul was long gone— along with its whiny driver, thank goodness—my worst fantasies about Nick moving in were already being realized. We were up to our earlobes in boxes. As if that wasn’t enough to induce acute claustrophobia, there was no place to sit, since cartons of books and CDs occupied all the good spots. No place to lie down either, with piles of clothes stacked on the bed and shopping bags filled with socks and belts and shoes covering the floor. As for the impossible-to-live-without rice cooker, it took up nearly all the counter space in my tiny kitchen.

Just stepping into Betty’s large, clutter-free parlor had been a great relief. I was able to breathe normally for the first time all day. In fact, I felt like the four of us were making a Merchant Ivory film. The whole setting was so darned civilized: the roaring fire in the fireplace, the crystal fluted glasses filled with bubbling champagne, the recording of a string quartet playing softly in the background, and of course Winston’s lovely British accent and Old World charm.

Even the dogs were on their best behavior. I’d wanted to leave them at the cottage, but Betty and Winston insisted it was high time Max and Lou made Frederick’s acquaintance.

I could already see that my canines were adjusting to the sudden increase in population here at the Tallmadge estate much more easily than I was. Especially Max, who had instantly taken to Winston’s wire-haired dachshund. The compact, friendly dog with fawn and tan fur was as energetic as my terrier. They bonded immediately, which I figured was due at least in part to the fact that dachshunds and West Highland whites had both originally been bred to hunt the same type of frisky critters, especially badgers.

Lou, however, was being treated a bit like the odd man out. While the two little guys romped together, sniffing and nipping each other and having a grand old time, he hovered a couple of feet away, doing his share of romping but acting more like a spectator than an active participant. I hoped that, sooner or later, they’d include him. These play dates were so difficult to orchestrate.

“It’s nice that Frederick has some new friends to romp around with, right here in his own backyard,” Winston observed, beaming like a proud father.

“And it’s lovely that we have a new neighbor, too!” Betty was glowing as she raised her champagne glass into the air. “I propose a toast to Nick. Welcome!”

“Thanks, Betty.” Nick clinked his glass against hers, then insisted that they weave their arms through each other’s before drinking. She giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Now, now, you two,” Winston quipped, “I hope I won’t have any competition, now that there’s a younger man living on the premises.”

“I promise to keep him in line,” I said.

“You don’t have to worry,” Nick added, slinging his arm around my waist. “I’m a one-woman man. Believe me, I’m smart enough to know a good thing when I’ve got it.

“In fact,” he added, “the entire world—or at least all of Long Island—is about to discover what a star Jessie is.”

“Come on, Nick,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks grow warm. “You know nothing’s certain yet.”

“What’s this?” Winston boomed. “Sounds like you’ve got something exciting in the works, Jessica!”

With three pairs of eyes focused on me, I had no choice but to come clean. “I’m meeting with a television producer tomorrow to talk about the possibility of doing a weekly show on pet care. It’s only Channel Fourteen—”

“That’s wonderful!” Betty cried.

“Goodness, I watch Channel Fourteen all the time,” Winston chimed in. “It’s the best way to find out what’s happening locally.”

“Nothing is certain yet,” I insisted. Being in the limelight—even among friends—was already making me uncomfortable. I wondered if I had what it took to be on television.

“I think that’s just marvelous!” Betty exclaimed. “And, Jessica, if there’s anything I can do to help—teach you makeup tricks or give you pointers on how to make an entrance—I hope you won’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, Betty.”

“How are you progressing with your other...endeavor?” she asked hesitantly.

It took me a few seconds to realize she was talking about Cassandra Thorndike. Before I had a chance to respond, Winston said, “What’s this? Another foray into the arts?”

“Not exactly,” I told him. “I’ve been investigating a murder.” I filled him in on the case, especially Suzanne’s involvement. Then I updated my small audience on everything I’d learned so far, leaving out any mention of my secret e-mail buddy. Nearly 48 hours had passed since I’d received that creepy anonymous communiqué. Yet every time I checked my e-mail, my heart started to pound. While I hadn’t heard from him or her again, I had a feeling that, sooner or later, I would.

Still, I’d made a point of not telling Nick about it. I was feeling so frustrated by my lack of progress that the last thing I wanted was him trying to hold me back because he was worried about me. There was simply too much at stake.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” Winston insisted heartily. “You’re a very brave, resourceful young woman with a good head on her shoulders. I’m certain you’ll find success in clearing your friend’s name. As for any possible risks, I certainly can’t imagine that someone as clear-thinking as you would ever take on anything that wasn’t safe.”

The look I saw Betty and Nick exchange told me they didn’t quite agree.

Anxious to change the subject, I said, “Hey, I just realized we toasted Nick, but we haven’t toasted Winston! We don’t want him to feel left out....”

As the champagne took effect, everyone mellowed, including me. Even the dogs were lolling on the thick Oriental carpet—all three of them acting like old friends, I was relieved to see. Noting that the menfolk were absorbed in a discussion of their own, I sauntered over to Betty, who was basking in the warmth of the fireplace.

“I feel like I’m starting a brand-new chapter of my life,” I commented, trying to sound brave and adventurous.

“We both are,” Betty returned. “And I’m going to give you a word of advice.”

I waited in silence, knowing there was no way I could stop it, even if I wanted to.

“Enjoy it, Jessica. Life’s too short not to.”

I just nodded. She made it sound so simple. And maybe it was.

At the very least, I could try.

Coffee.

As always, the thought that my morning shot of caffeine was just a few steps away was sufficient reason for me to drag myself out of bed. Of course, the sudden appearance of a warm wet nose in my face—Lou’s, this time, reminding me that not all of us were able to benefit from indoor plumbing—was another strong incentive.

I climbed out of bed, groping my way toward the kitchen. My mind was still foggy, so much so that I’d forgotten that anything in my life had changed. It certainly felt just like any other day, what with Max getting underfoot and Lou hovering nearby and Prometheus already greeting the new day with annoying exuberance.

Until I snapped on the kitchen light and was confronted with a carton of mismatched mugs with cute sayings like,
Instant Human! Just Add Coffee,
a Tupperware container of utensils whose various purposes I couldn’t begin to imagine, and the official Mr. Healthybody Super-Juicer, still in its original box.

“He’ll find a way to make it fit,” I muttered as I poured water into Mr. Coffee, wondering if I should start thinking of my favorite appliance as Mr. CaffeineAddictedBody. “He’s really good at that kind of thing. He told me so himself.”

As my beloved coffeepot began burping and sighing, I shuffled into the bathroom and launched into my usual morning routine. I grabbed my toothbrush, then opened the medicine cabinet to retrieve the toothpaste.

And instinctively ducked to protect myself from an avalanche as not one but four tubes leaped off the shelf and into the sink.

“Ni-i-ck!” I cried. “Why do we have four tubes of toothpaste?”

A few seconds later, he stuck his head in the doorway. His hair was tousled and his eyes looked as if the Tooth Fairy had sneaked into the bedroom in the middle of the night and, just for fun, glued the lids together.

“Wha-a-a, Jess?” he mumbled.

“Either our toothpaste gave birth during the night,” I replied, trying to remain calm, “or someone is guilty of the crime of hoarding oral-hygiene products.”

Nick yawned loudly, meanwhile scratching his head with both hands. “Is
that
all.”

Not the right answer. “I’m serious, Nick. This place is too small for four tubes of toothpaste.”

“They all do different things,” he explained. “See? That one’s got whitener in it, and that one’s for sensitive teeth. And that one’s just regular old fluoride toothpaste.”

“Why do we need all these different kinds?” I persisted. “Besides, doesn’t some enterprising company make just one superduper toothpaste that performs all these vital functions at the same time?”

“Probably. We’ll get some, okay?” He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. Looking in the mirror, I saw my reflection, except with an extra head resting on my right shoulder. “I’ve got a great idea. How about these two official roommates taking a shower together?”

I was about to blurt out an excuse—something like the coffee was probably ready or we didn’t have enough time. Instead, I suddenly heard Betty’s words of advice from the night before in my head.

“Enjoy it, Jessica,” she’d said.

I had to admit, Betty was a bit older and way wiser than I was. So I figured I’d give it a try.

“Only if you promise to wash my back,” I returned.

“Tell you what,” Nick countered, sliding his warm hands under my T-shirt. “Just to show you what a nice guy I am, I’ll wash anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Just point me in the right direction.”

Maybe Betty’s right, I thought. And figured I should at least be willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

My morning of soapsud fun was long forgotten as I strode into the lobby of Sunshine Multimedia, the parent company of Channel 14 News, trying to exhibit a level of confidence I wasn’t even close to feeling. I gave my name to the woman at the front desk and, at her request, signed in. Then I took a seat in one of the comfortable upholstered chairs that formed a circle around the giant TV dominating the waiting area. Needless to say, it was tuned to Channel 14 News.