Annie's Rainbow (6 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Annie's Rainbow
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“I don't want to be a partner. My business days are over. I only want to help. I get a kick out of talking to the kids. They call me Pops, can you beat that?”
Annie laughed. “They called you Pops back in Boston, too.”
“Speaking of Boston, I got a form letter today that was forwarded from that same insurance company asking me to make a list of all the people I knew who frequented my store that day and any personal information I might have. I tore it up. They're getting to be a pain in my behind. I think they're desperate is what I think.”
“I think I hate insurance companies as much as I hate used-car salesmen. They want their premiums, and when it's time to pay out they fight you every step of the way. On top of that they then raise your rates. If I get one, I'm tearing up mine, too,” Jane said.
“Yeah, me too,” Annie said quietly.
“I did a watercolor the other day of a Charleston garden, Annie. Do you want to take it to your mother? I know she loves flowers. I just put a plain white frame on it.”
“She'll love it,” Annie said.
“You sound funny. Are you okay?”
“I'm getting a headache. I used to get headaches when I didn't know if I could make the rent and buy food. Now, when things are going well, I'm worried it won't last. I guess I'm going to have to go back on my aspirin kick again. By the way, Jane, did we leave a forwarding address?”
Jane slapped at her forehead. “Damn, I forgot. I was going to do it the day of the bank robbery, then you came home and I forgot. I can send one of those forms to the post office tomorrow. I'm sorry, Annie.”
“Don't do it for me. All our bills were paid. Tom has this address. Mom isn't in that nursing home anymore, so who would write me? Forget it.”
“Okay, I will. Well, I'm going to pack up my gear and head home. It's my turn to cook. How about stuffed pork chops?”
“Make me two,” Elmo said smartly.
“Me too,” Annie said just as smartly. No forwarding address meant the insurance company couldn't locate her or Jane.
Thank you, God.
“Annie, I forgot to tell you something. Your mother can use her own furniture when she moves into Westbury Center. Didn't you tell me you put your family things in storage in Raleigh?”
“That's wonderful. She'll love having her own things even if she only remembers them once in a while.” This was all just too damn coincidental or she was becoming paranoid. On the way to North Carolina to pick up her mother, she'd stopped at the storage unit she'd paid rent on all these years and hid the pillowcase with the bank money in one of the dresser drawers, keeping ten thousand dollars in case of an emergency. She'd replaced the two hundred dollars from her own account and then taken ten thousand. What kind of pretzel logic was that? A criminal mentality was taking over her mind, and there wasn't anything she could do about it.
“Mom really likes those ladies that are staying with her, doesn't she?” Annie said to have something to say.
“She calls them both Grace. They don't mind, though. They understand. Helen likes me. A lot,” Elmo said slyly.
Annie and Jane whooped with glee. Elmo's face turned fire red. “When is your house going to be ready?”
“Three weeks, and, no, she isn't moving in. Helen, not your mother. I like to play chess, and so does she. She doesn't like tuna and she hates coffee. Drinks tea all day long. Sweet tea, they call it down here. That's all there is to it. Don't you two be badgering me now.”
“A nifty bachelor like yourself is going to find himself in big demand around here. Before you know it you'll be beating off all those rich widows with a stick. They're going to try and tempt you with their shrimp and grits and their she crab stew,” Annie teased.
“Hrumph. Don't like grits and never did care for stew. I'll be seeing you in a bit. Be sure to lock up tight.”
“We will. Dinner's at eight.”
“I'll be there.”
“If you don't need me, then I'm off, too,” Jane said.
“Go ahead. I have to do the books. I'll be home by eight.”
“Annie, we're doing so well, it's scary. If we wanted to, we could buy ourselves a new outfit. When was the last time we did that?”
“At least a hundred years ago. We need a fella before we get duded up.”
“I'm looking.” Jane laughed as she scooted for the front door.
Annie brushed at a swarm of gnats as she made her way down the street. The humidity made it hard to breathe. Her mind wandered as she passed tourists and summer-school students. Where had the time gone? It seemed like yesterday that they opened the Daisy Shop, and here it was mid August. In another week the fall-term students would be swarming back onto the campus and they'd be run ragged again. Still, it was always better to be busy. When you were busy you didn't have time to think. Some days she almost forgot about her big, dark secret. As Jane said a while back, things were going so well it was downright scary.
Her mother loved the Westbury Center, where she now lived. She worked in her garden every day, played the piano on occasion, and actually seemed to have a routine of sorts. She cooked simple things, and if she forgot to wash the dishes, there was someone to do it for her. She had adopted a kitten from the petting zoo and walked it on a bright blue leash several times a week. Visitor days were happy occasions. Jane and Elmo always went with Annie, and, weather permitting, they picnicked in the small walled garden.
Norma Jean Clark was happy. Annie was grateful.
“Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going. I guess I was woolgathering.”
“Now that's an expression I haven't heard in years. My grandmother used to say that. It wasn't your fault, it was mine. Daniel Matthew Evans,” the man said by way of introduction.
Annie laughed. “Anna Daisy Clark,” she said, holding out her hand.
“I don't think I ever met anyone named Daisy. You wouldn't by any chance be the Daisy from the Daisy Shop, would you?”
“I am indeed.”
“Best coffee I ever drank. I like those tuna sandwiches, too.”
“I don't think I ever saw you in the shop,” Annie said.
“Usually I have one of my students pick it up for me. I'll have to make it a point to come by more often.”
Annie laughed again.
My God, I'm flirting.
“We have a pretty good brownie on Mondays. Goes with the sandwich, no extra charge. Mondays are downers as a rule. Does that make sense?”
“In a cockamamie kind of way.”
“You don't look like a professor,” Annie blurted. She felt her neck grow warm. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that.”
“Of course you did. Don't apologize. My mother doesn't think I look like a professor, either. It's these shorts and running sneakers. Now you, on the other hand, look like both a Daisy and an Annie.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one. See you around. I have three more miles to go. It was nice meeting you, Anna Daisy Clark.”
“Likewise,” Annie called over her shoulder. Wait until she told Jane about this encounter. She practically danced the rest of the way home.
Ten minutes later, Annie bounded up the steps and into the apartment, yelling at the top of her lungs. “Jane, you aren't going to believe this. I just met this man. I think he's a professor. Jane, where the hell are you? I think he was gorgeous, but I can't be sure. It was dark. I bumped into him. Talk about chance happenings. He had great legs and nice buns. Do we have any wine. It's in our budget this week, isn't it? Oh, I didn't know you had company. I'm sorry. I could go back out and come back in like a lady instead of a hooligan.” Her eyes full of questions, Annie waited for an introduction.
“Annie, this is Peter Newman. He's investigating the bank robbery in Boston.”
“Really. How can we help you, Mr: Newman?” Annie said, sitting down across the table from him. “You came all the way to South Carolina to talk to us. No wonder insurance rates are so high. Do we have wine, Jane? Maybe Mr. Newman would like some.”
I can pull this off. I know I can do this. Stay calm and cool. There's no evidence. Take it slow and easy. The ten thousand dollars is safe in your dehumidifier. He'd never look there. Besides, he needs a warrant before he can search the house. Cool and calm. I can do this.
“Mr. Newman said he ran our license plates,” Jane said coolly.
“Why?” Annie asked as she sipped the wine Jane handed her.
He looks like a skinny bulldog
, she thought.
“It wasn't just your cars. We ran the plates from all the cars parked in the campus parking lot. Those that we could make out. The rest we got from the campus parking authority. We're talking to everyone.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Where were you when the robbery occurred?”
“I was in the drugstore buying aspirin. I walked because it was such a beautiful day. I was talking to Mr. Richardson, or maybe I was paying him. I'm not sure. We both heard the shot at the same time. When I was walking home, I crossed the lot and saw what happened. That's all I know.”
“I was in our apartment,” Jane said. “Actually, I was getting ready to go to the post office to drop off our change of address when Annie came in. In the excitement of worrying about my money in the bank, I forgot to go. I never did leave an address.”
“Did either one of you see or hear anything else?”
Both women shook their heads.
“Do you always leave your car windows open?”
“The backseat windows of my car really stick. If it's nice out, I let them down. If it's raining, I struggle with them. But, to answer your question, most of the time in nice weather they're down,” Annie said
“Mine too. I'm just too lazy to roll them up,” Jane said. “Why?”
“We think there's a possibility the robber tossed the money bag into one of the cars on the campus lot.”
“But I thought the robber gave the money to a third person,” Annie said, her eyes wide and innocent.
“We haven't ruled out that possibility.”
“Almost all the cars on campus have their windows open in the spring,” Jane said. “There was a picture in the morning paper on graduation day. I saw the picture on the front page and almost all of them had the windows open. Are you saying you suspect
us?”
“I'm not saying that at all.”
“Then what are you saying?” Annie asked bluntly.
“I'm saying we're at the asking-questions stage.”
“Maybe you should post a reward,” Jane said. “They do that on television shows all the time.”
Annie held her glass out for a refill. Jane poured for Annie and herself, a worried look on her face. “Is there anything else you want to ask us?”
“Not at this time. I might have questions later on.”
“Then it might be a good idea to call ahead,” Annie said.
“Why is that?”
“Because you're eating into our dinner hour. As you can see it's almost eight o'clock. We get up at five. It's been a long, hard day, and I want to relax before I go to bed and have to get up and do it all over again. In short, Mr. Newman, I'm dog-ass tired. If there's nothing else, I'd like to eat my dinner.”
“Then I'll be on my way. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I'm just doing my job. If you give me your phone number, I will call ahead.”
It's just a formality. It doesn't mean anything. Be cool. Look him in the eye
. Annie got up from the table and reached into the cabinet for the dinner plates as Jane handed over a slip of paper with their phone number on it.

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