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I walked back into the living room. "Did they take anything else?"
Another shrug. "Some paperwork. They may've taken some things from her room; I didn't go in there with them. They just told me not to get rid of the rest of her stuff until they call me. I sure hope it's soon, because I have to find someone to share expenses right away if I'm going to stay here." She walked toward the door.
I followed. "Do you mind if I ask how her bill with you got so high?"
Daphne fidgeted with a fingernail. "It's kind of embarrassing, actually. It happened bit by bit, falling behind on this bill, and then that one. And she always had a good reason, a story about how she couldn't pay me right then, but the money was on the way. And she did come through with money sometimes. Just not all of it."
Ariel sounded like the roommate from hell.
"Good luck," I said. "If I hear of anyone who'd be interested, I'll send them your way."
"Hey, thanks. I appreciate that."
Back in the cab of my truck, I thought about the address book. Barr and/or Robin Lane would be contacting Ariel's brother. Well, of course they would; he was her next of kin. But I'd better be careful not to appear to Robin as if I was trying to interfere with her investigation. Maybe it'd be better to have one of the other coop members contact Rocky Kaminski about taking Ariel's art.
But who? Irene wouldn't do it. Jake probably shouldn't do it. And Ruth didn't even like to drive outside of town.
That was when I realized I wasn't thinking about calling Rocky Kaminski at all. I was pla
I didn't want to give the task of following up with Ariel's brother to anyone else. I wanted to go up there, not only because I was curious about what her brother might be like, but because I wanted to get the heck out of Dodge.
The murder and Barr and his ex-wife woes were enough to escape from temporarily, but now that I thought about it, I hadn't taken even a single full day off from my business in almost a year. I wanted a mini-vacation. If I happened to find out more about Ariel's murder, so be it.
I just had to tread carefully.
On the way home, I kept expecting-even hoping-to see Barr behind me again, curious about what I'd learned from Daphne Sparks. But I didn't see the Impala.
About halfway home, however, my constant monitoring of the rearview mirror did net a nondescript economy rental car that looked an awful lot like the one Ha
Apparently Barr had not, as he put it, sent her packing.
ELEVEN
I PLUNGED INTO A frenzy of housework. Unfortunately, I'm wired to clean and tidy before venturing away from the home fires. It was only a day trip to La Co
Besides, the harder I scrub, the less I think about things that are bothering me. And between Ariel and Ha
Two loads of laundry, a sparkling clean refrigerator, stove, and kitchen floor, a swept front step, tidied mudroom, two scrubbed toilets and a dusted living room later, I fell into a kitchen chair, drank a glass of iced coffee and contemplated the pile of lettuce I'd taken out of the fridge and put in the sink.
Time to get back to work.
There is something about rinsing every square inch of every leaf of lettuce to rid it of dust and make sure no crawlies make it onto the di
Cleaning takes a certain amount of concentration; rinsing lettuce does not. My mind was now free to obsess about Ha
My second view of her today confirmed it: she looked a lot like me. But men are well known to find a certain type of woman attractive.
Of course, women have their preferences, too. Which was entirely beside the point.
I wondered if she was a nice person. Well, she would be, wouldn't she? I mean, Barr wouldn't go and marry someone who ate kittens for breakfast or yelled at old ladies. Because I had to give him credit for his taste in women, or else what was I saying about me?
Oh, B.S., Sophie Mae. She followed you around town and gave you the stink-eye right in front of your own house. She's been told to go home, but she wants her ex-husband's money. Face it. She's not nice at all.
Two million dollars. Some women would do a lot for money like that.
Like what? Beg, steal… kill?
Oh, man. This was nuts. I reached for the kitchen towel, dried my hands and went out to the hallway for the phone. My heart went kachunka ka-chunka as I waited through the rings for Barr to answer.
He picked up.
"I thought you might like to know your ex-wife followed me home."
"Hell," he muttered under his breath. "Okay. I'll take care of it."
"Is she violent?" I asked.
"What? No, of course not."
I wondered whether he really knew.
"Sophie Mae? Can we talk about this tonight? I'm kind of in the middle of something."
"Sure. I'll see you later." I pushed the off button on the cordless handset and replaced it in the cradle. I went back to my pile of lettuce, thoughts roiling.
When I was nearly done, Meghan came in and offered to take over.
"That's okay. But I wouldn't mind some company," I said.
She flipped on the kitchen light. I hadn't realized how dark it had become with the sun on the other side of the house.
"Okay. When you're done I'll stuff the squash blossoms," she said.
I'd almost forgotten. The thought made me feel a little better.
A very little.
I heard a faint clicking noise and looked over my shoulder to see Meghan knitting peach-colored cotton yarn into a rectangle.
"What are you doing?"
"Making a purse for Erin. Apparently Zoe got one for her birthday, and Erin feels left out." Zoe had been Erin 's best friend since first grade.
"Those two haven't been hanging out as much this summer," I said.
"I think it's the math camp," Meghan said.
"I didn't even know you knitted."
"My mother taught me. I haven't done it for a while, but all your talk about spi
Well, of course Meghan would already know how to knit, would be able to pick it up after years and years and create something totally funky and cool like that little bag. I sighed, thinking about how I struggled with the twin needles, preferring a simple crochet hook and only a few loops of yarn to worry about at a time.
"I called Barr," she said. "He told me you'd already invited him to di
I finished the last leaf of lettuce, tossed it in the drainer and turned around with the dishtowel in my hands. "Do you know what he did today?"
"Uh, no."
"He pulled me over on Cedar Street. Lights, sirens, the whole bit."
She laughed. I scowled.
"Then what happened?" she asked, sounding far too delighted and knitting away faster than anyone who hasn't done it for years has a right to. She didn't even look at her hands while she was doing it.