Wine, Dine and Christmas Crimes, Maria Swan [best short novels of all time .TXT] 📗

coffee, an open box of banana muffins on the table, and her ankle with what looked like a soft cast propped on a chair in front of her.

“About time you showed up,” she said. “Get yourself some coffee. Time to catch up with what I’ve been missing.”

That was what I had been waiting for, permission to spill the beans. I started with the encounter by the front lobby of The Nest the night of Kay’s party. We paused briefly to share a banana muffin. Then I jumped to a different subject, showing off the pics of my Christmas tree. The photos originally intended for Brenda, just sat there, on my silent phone.

“You trust your former aunt when she says Double Wide wasn’t at the party?”

I nodded, munching quietly. “Hey, we need to stop calling him Double Wide. Seems like everyone knows I put nicknames on people.”

“Oh, like who?”

“Kassandra, like the perfume widow from across my street—Adam and Eve, you remember them, the two cops from homicide—and let’s not forget Red Bandana.” Saying his name got me all flustered, and I impulsively looked at the Christmas pics again.

“Ah. I got it...the connection, did he give you that fancy French-looking tree?”

“He? He who? And what makes the tree French?” Kassandra had a way of bringing out the bitch in me in under five minutes. “Anyway, do you think there is even a slight chance of Kay coming in today?”

She shook her head and stretched to scratch her leg just above the cast.

“Is it very itchy?” I asked.

“Not as bad as last week. As for Kay, she called just before you showed up and told me she was flying east to see some relatives. Hold her calls. She would clear the impromptu time off with Sunny, our supreme chief, and had no idea when she will be back.”

I choked on a piece of muffin, and Kassadra seized the opportunity to slap my back with all her might.

“Hey, what the hell was that for?” I coughed again.

“That’s for not telling me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

“Kassandra, I don’t know what medication you’re on, but that’s not very nice.” I got up, grabbed my mug still half full, and headed toward my assigned cubicle in the empty bullpen.

I didn’t buy Kay’s vacation for one minute. It had to be connected to Double—I mean, Dale Wolf’s arrest. I wondered how come I missed all that. Kassandra wasn’t the type to watch the news. She had Netflix and some other pay-per-view stuff. She didn’t much care about reality. Sort of explained her love affair with Tarot cards. I clicked on the power button of my ancient computer, courtesy of Desert Homes management, and in doing so I bumped my cell, and the pic of the Christmas tree lit up. That was my cue, I called Tristan.

“Fiat...” His voice stirred new and old emotions. I found myself swallowing air.

“Where did you find the pink car?”

He laughed, a soft, intimate laugh. “It found me, it’s one of the kind. Just like you.”

“I love—it.” Said my mouth, I love you screamed my soul. This was a mistake, I should have met him for coffee or something. On neutral territory. In a public place. My emotions were taking over, not a good sign, and I couldn’t blame anyone but myself.

“Are you still there?” he asked. “Why so quiet?”

“I’m at the office.” Breathe, Monica, breathe. “Kassandra is back to work finally. I missed her, but she can’t get around without a cane. Anyway, we are the only ones here. I had hoped to run into Kay Lewis.” Why was I babbling about people and things he probably didn’t care to hear about anyway?

“Fiat, let’s go to dinner, you and me.” Silence, a strange kind of silence. Full of meanings. “Somewhere quiet, and talk.”

“Talk?” Something in my throat—hard to breathe. I wasn’t prepared for any ‘talk.’ Would I ever be? “When?” I heard myself saying.

“You decide. Wait, any evening but tomorrow. It’s Wednesday, and the farrier is coming over to take a look at Tache. I never know how long it will take. But please, don’t make me wait a month?” I sensed a smile in his voice.

“Thursday? I can meet you at seven o’clock. Where do you—”

“Thursday at seven is perfect. I’ll pick you up. No mind changing allowed. Deal?”

“Huh, I guess so. When did you get to be so bossy?” I joked.

“It took a lot of practice, but I wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

From the corner of my eye I could see Kassandra waving me over from her desk.

“I won’t change my mind, I promise. Got to go, Kassandra is acting like she needs help. Thanks again for the Christmas tree. It may sound corny, but—well—it lights up a lot more than my living room.” Again, emotions rising...saved by Kassandra’s annoying gesturing.

“What’s going on? Did I miss something?”

She was still munching on something, wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and pointed to her computer screen which, by the way, was the latest edition from Dell.

I scooted over to her side of the desk. “What? You’re watching the news on your computer?”

“Hey, I’m a subscriber to Arizona Central. Why are you acting so shocked? He’s out.”

“Who? Out of where?”

“The murderer, ok, the alleged murdered. Wait, wait...there look at him, he looks like he’s coming from a Christmas gala.” She made a funny noise with her lips like she wanted to spit on Dale Wolf. Very juvenile if you asked me. “The dude next to him is his lawyer who probably got a big fat bonus for getting him out before his pants lost their crease.”

“Why are you so angry at him? Have you ever met him in person?”

“Does sitting next to him on a bar stool count?” Kassandra was on a roll.

“What bar? How come I wasn’t there?”

“It was some civil duty kind of crap. A mingling event put up by our friendly Chamber of Commerce, and Sunny didn’t give me much choice.