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

He was new to the area. Of course he knew what he wanted to do, probably there to meet as many Realtors as possible, the better to poach from the competition. Anyway, the cops are saying he was only a person of interest. Yeah. A rich person of interest.”

“Perhaps now that he’s out Kay may change her mind about her impromptu absence.”

“What are you saying? What does his arrest—or whatever the hell it was—have to do with our Kay?”

I shrugged. I had already said too much. “I don’t know, but about now I could sure use a good Tarot reading. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a great idea. My cards are in my Kia.” She looked around as if she suspected someone of spying on us. “I have to sit here until four. What are you doing here?”

“Nothing now that I know Kay won’t be here. And she didn’t even give me the list of the open house visitors. Thanks to the cops, we couldn’t show the condo. So Kay set up shop in the fancy lobby and collected info on possible prospects.”

“Why? What were you doing?”

“Oh, well, it’s not that so much, but Gold Buttons has a strong dislike for me and—I mean the doorman. And Adam and Eve, oh, damn, I can’t remember their names, you know, the homicide detectives, well they drove me to their office to help them out with the investigations.”

Okay, that was a stretch, but made me feel like I hadn’t wasted the whole Sunday afternoon after all. “Hey, want to do happy hour? It has been too long.”

“Can’t. I’m still on pain killers because of the ankle and the itching. So no alcohol and even if I could, it’s hard to drive and even harder to get up to my condo.”

“Oh, you poor thing, want to spend the night at my place? It’s only a couch, but no stairs, of course no food either. Brenda is down at the Dumont’s Ranch. Don’t know when she’ll be back. She has Dior too.”

“We could order a pizza.” Kassandra said just as the office line rang. “Desert Homes...”

She stopped talking and gave me the strangest look ever. What was that all about? The rest was just monosyllables and nodding, until she said, “Got it, will take care of it, not to worry Kay.”

KAY? Kassandra put the phone back on the cradle and looked at me. “Maybe you ought to do me a reading. That was Kay Lewis cancelling her trip. Something came up she said, and she didn’t need to go after all.”

I had to sit down, my legs, no, my whole body shook. So she was involved? Because of Dale Wolf? How?

“Hey, tell me what’s going on here. What’s with Double Wide and Kay? Stop looking at me like that. I’ll call him Double Wide as long as I want to. Is he trying to get our super star agent to work for him?”

I was sitting on the edge of the raised step where Kassandra’s desk stood.

“I don’t know for sure, and that’s the truth.” My hands felt sweaty. How was that possible? I never sweat. “Somehow there is a connection between them and the dead swimmer, you know, the pool at The Nest.” I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t ever remember the poor girl’s name.

“Was she a Realtor?” Kassandra asked.

“Who?”

“The girl,—you said she swam. Who swims out in the open in December, at night? Was the pool heated at least?”

“What difference does it make? I doubt she died of hypothermia. Coming to think of it, what did she died from? I need to read the paper. Do you have today’s edition?”

“We did, Scott took it. He didn’t want to mess up the bed of his truck with the muddy post he picked up. He used the newspapers.”

“Today?”

“Yes. Where do you think the muffins came from?”

“I need to get out of here, I’m going to get some Christmas shopping done. Maybe that will calm my nerves. Maybe I’ll buy some groceries. Call me when you’re on your way, okay?”

She nodded. “I’m googling Kay and Double Wide to see if I find a connection.” She was still googling when I left the office.

I glanced at the two lonely plastic bags on the seat next to me. So much for grocery shopping. All I got was some prosciutto, a bag of already washed lettuce and radicchio mix, and French bread from the Trader Joe’s off Shea. I did circle the mall parking lot a few times. Couldn’t face the shopping crowd—too scatterbrained and had to face it, concerned about what was going on. I had to talk to someone about Dale Wolf and Kay. How could they possibly be both connected to the dead woman?

It was barely 2 o’clock when I cleared the corner of the driveway and stared at Brenda’s Honda Pilot, driver door wide open, engine idling. It blocked my entrance to the garage, but you know what? It was the best thing I saw all day. And as I slipped out of my Fiat, Dior came running and jumped on me, sending me back into my seat while he drooled wet kisses all over my face. That would make the second best thing, no, no, wait, third one. My dinner date with Tristan trumped wet kisses.

SIXTEEN

I SAT ON Brenda’s comfy couch, my usual glass of wine handy, and watched her cook brown rice and mushrooms while store-bought rolls warmed in the oven. And the heavenly smell filling the house could have fooled anyone into believing everything was homecooked. By my feet, Dior played with his old rope.

“Okay Brenda,” I said, “Will you be home for a few days or going back to the ranch right away?”

At the mention of the ranch, a forlorn expression shadowed her face. What was that about? I saw most of the stuff I had delivered to her on Monday sitting in the back of her Honda.

“We decided to postpone the food delivery project until after the holidays. Anyway, I had