Crowned and Moldering

The co

I called on my way home to see if Paloma, the goddess of manicures, was available and, miracle of miracles, she was. My stomach was still growling—again, thanks to Whitney—so I took a quick detour into the Yummy Burger drive-in and gulped down a burger and milk shake. Then I drove home and ran inside to change into something more casual. Within minutes, I was walking the three blocks to the town square, where Paloma had her shop.

Two hours later, I awoke in a fragrant, waxy haze. I was still sitting in the massage chair at Paloma’s, having been fluffed and massaged and buffed to a fine sheen. The image of Whitney had vanished from my consciousness, and it wasn’t until I was strolling home that I even recalled that phone call Mr. Jones had received from his wife, Denise, earlier that day. I pictured his distraught expression and wondered if they had recovered from the shock of being questioned by the police in a murder investigation. I hoped so.

I’d known Denise Armstrong—now Denise Jones—my whole life. We’d always been friendly, though not especially close, because she was a few years older than I. But I liked her. Her family owned a small chain of upscale nurseries up and down the Northern California coast, and I did all my garden shopping there. They made their own mulch, and it was the best I’d ever used.

Denise had been Lily’s best friend from as far back as I could remember, and for that reason alone I liked her. I figured her only flaw was that she was now friends with Whitney. Sadly, that was enough to make me question the woman’s judgment, but the fact that she’d had the good taste to fall in love with and marry the wonderful Mr. Jones mitigated things somewhat.

Back in high school, my friends and I were shocked when we heard the news that Mr. Jones had married Denise barely a month after she graduated from high school. It was the biggest scandal ever. Well, besides Lily’s disappearance a few months before. Denise was only two years ahead of me and my friends. And Mr. Jones was a teacher! They had been very discreet, though, and nobody had ever suspected a thing. That might’ve made it even more shocking than it would’ve been had we been gossiping about them all along.

In the end, we girls reluctantly accepted the fact that the match was a good one. Mr. Jones was just a few years older than Denise, after all, and they made a very cute couple. We finally had to admit that we’d only considered the marriage a scandal because we were all so jealous of lucky Denise.

It was dark by the time I got home and let myself in through the kitchen door.

A loud bark greeted me and I saw Robbie shivering deliriously at the sight of me. I set my purse down on the table as Tiger, purring loudly, wound her furry body around my ankles.

“Hello, my darlings,” I crooned, stooping down to give each of them a hug and then tussle and pet them. “I’m excited to see you, too. Did you miss me? Of course you did.”

Robbie barked twice.

“Yes, my fingernails are pretty, aren’t they?”

He barked again, as if to say, Get real. Feed me.

“I know, I know, it’s di

I chuckled at my own conversation as I grabbed their empty water bowls. At the sink, I rinsed them out and filled each with fresh water.

Robbie and Tiger sat patiently until I set the bowls back down at their respective dining spots. They lapped up water as I took their food bowls and doled out their small evening meals.

While they nibbled at their di

As I took my first sip, I heard a heavy thump-thump sound and glanced out the window. It was Mac Sullivan, wearing a black leather jacket, dark jeans, and boots, jogging down the garage stairs.

“Wonder where he’s going looking so darn hot?” I asked myself aloud, then felt foolish. Especially since my knees had gone a little weak at the sight of him. But honestly, what woman would blame me? The man was ridiculously handsome.

Tiger bumped up against my leg and I leaned down to pick her up. I was so lucky to have a cat who was willing to snuggle with me once in a while.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I murmured as I buried my face in her soft fur. “You’re thinking that if Mac’s so great, why was I semiswooning the other day when Chief Jensen was sitting right here at the kitchen table?”

Tiger just purred, obviously used to my reading her mind.

It’s a good question, I thought. Did it matter that I found both men so darned attractive? I didn’t think so, and I wasn’t going to worry about it. Not yet, anyway. Neither of these two friendships had developed into anything serious . . . yet. I was happy just to have them around to talk to and flirt with.

Mac and Eric had become friends, although they weren’t at all alike. Mac was definitely the friendlier of the two, which had been a surprise at first. As dangerously dark and edge-of-the-seat thrilling as his novels were, I hadn’t expected to find that he was actually an easygoing, fun-loving guy. I enjoyed spending time with him because he was open and honest. He liked to talk and laugh and go on adventures. And in case I hadn’t made it clear enough, he was absolutely gorgeous, with dark hair and midnight blue eyes. I’d already been halfway in love with him before I ever met him, thanks to his amazing photograph on the backs of his books.

Eric, on the other hand, had a dark side. I sometimes wondered if he’d been hurt badly in the past, because he was so circumspect when it came to talking about himself. He was tall and blond and had the world’s greatest smile—when he allowed anyone to see it, which was rare. Most of the time, he scowled. Still, there was something to be said for the tortured-hero type.

I set down the cat and watched her shake herself off and stroll away to the comfort of the living-room couch. I wiped down the kitchen counters, emptied the drying rack, and filled the coffeemaker for the morning.

My mind drifted back to my life before the two men moved to Lighthouse Cove. I hadn’t been out on a date in almost four years, for good reason. Ever since high school, I just hadn’t had a lot of luck with men. After my shattering breakup with Tommy, I’d withdrawn for a while. I spent most of my time working on construction sites or gardening. I had girlfriends, and I felt as though my life was full enough without a boyfriend around to mess up my mind.

The pitiful fact was that, until recently, I’d had exactly two dates since the breakup with Tommy, both of which were disasters. One guy turned out to be gay and the other one turned out to be a felon. I figured the universe was telling me to avoid men, and I was happy to take its advice.

But a few months ago, I reluctantly decided it was time to dip my toe back into the dating pool. I agreed to go out on a blind date set up by the ever-matchmaking Lizzie. The date ended very badly, with the guy trying to attack me on the beach. Sadly, his life ended badly, as well, a few days later, when he was murdered in the basement of a house I was working on.

“Wow, grim memories,” I muttered. Where had those awful thoughts come from? Shaking my head, I finished my wine and went upstairs and got ready for bed. Robbie and Tiger both jumped onto the bed to join me, and I switched on the television to catch a few minutes of one of my favorite old sitcoms. I needed a good laugh after rehashing my pitiful dating life. The three of us fell asleep within minutes.