Buttercream Bump Off (16 page)

“Ditto,” said his wife, Nancy, who was sharing the hammock with him.

“Boys, cookies!” Joyce called from the doorway.

Darth and Luke turned on a dime and sped for the house.

“Wash your hands!” Nancy called after them.

“Aw, Mom, I just licked them clean,” Darth Vader complained. “See?”

He dropped his lightsaber and held up two sticky hands for inspection. Nancy and Joyce exchanged a look that was equal parts maternal amusement and gross-out.

“Soap. Water. March,” Joyce said.

“Aw, crud,” Darth and Luke grumbled as the door shut behind them.

“Thanks for coming down with the boys,” Mel said to Charlie and Nancy. “They’ve cheered Mom up tremendously.”

“Exhausted her is more like it,” Charlie said. “But we’re happy to be here. So, do the police have any suspects?”

“You mean aside from Mom?” Mel asked.

“And my sister’s new boyfriend?” Joe asked.

Mel and Joe linked hands. Neither one of them was happy about the Angie-Roach situation.

“They don’t really suspect Mom, do they?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t think so, but Detective Martinez stopped by the bakery yesterday, and I don’t think it was to buy cupcakes—although he did,” Mel said.

Joe sat up straighter. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

“I didn’t?” Mel asked. “Well, after last night’s concert and staying up so late with Tate and Angie, my brain is a little fuzzy.”

“I don’t like this,” Joe said. “I don’t like Martinez sniffing around the shop.”

“Well, it’s not like he thinks Mel is a suspect,” Charlie said. “I mean, you weren’t even there, right?”

“There is the dress debacle,” Mel said. “But no, I don’t think he thinks I’m a suspect.”

“Maybe he wants to date you,” Nancy said and wiggled her eyebrows.

Mel glanced quickly at Joe, who glowered and said, “Sorry, you’re off the market.”

She grinned at him. Not that she had been worried or anything, but it was good to know that Joe was still in. Maybe tonight would be the night. She felt herself break into a sweat, and it wasn’t from nerves.

An old-fashioned telephone ring sounded, and Joe fished his phone out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen.

“Sorry, it’s the office,” he said. He squeezed Mel’s hand before letting go, and then strolled over to the edge of the yard to stand between her mother’s orange trees.

“I’m going to go see if Mom needs help,” Nancy said. “Our two Jedi Knights will be covered in milk and cookies, and they’re definitely going to need baths.” She untangled herself from Charlie’s arms and shook her long, dark hair free. She kissed his head as she climbed out of the hammock.

Charlie watched her go, and Mel could tell from the soft look in his eyes that he was as much in love with her today as he had been when he first fell for her in college, maybe even more so.

“Mel, I want to talk to you about Mom.” Charlie sat up a little straighter.

“What’s up?”

“I want her to come back to Flagstaff with us,” he said.

“That’s a great idea,” Mel said. “It would do her some good.”

“I found her pacing around the house last night at two in the morning. She was checking all of the doors and windows with a fire poker in one hand and a flashlight in the other,” Charlie said. “I think she’s afraid that the murderer is going to come after her.”

“Have you seen anything that makes you think that?” Mel asked.

“No, nothing out of the ordinary has happened, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t right,” Charlie said. “I mean, she was there when Malloy was strangled. The murderer has to be a little concerned that she might have seen something.”

Mel fretted her lower lip between her teeth. “We should call Uncle Stan.”

“I talked to him this morning,” Charlie said. “If Mom refuses to come to Flagstaff with us, he’s going to stay in the guesthouse.”

“You know she’s going to refuse,” Mel said.

“Yep. I know she thinks it will look bad, plus she’d be terrified that the boys would be put in danger.”

Mel reached across the space between them and squeezed her brother’s arm. “I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

“I know.”

They were silent for a moment, sharing their worry for their mom. Then Charlie patted her hand, and Mel released him and leaned back in her chair.

“So, how’s Joe?” Charlie asked. “Treating you right?”

“Of course,” Mel said. “You know Joe. He’s a perfect gentleman.”

“A little too perfect?”

Mel frowned at her brother as he toed the ground with the front of his black Converse high-tops, keeping the hammock swaying.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Well, word on the street is that you two haven’t had a chance to bump uglies yet,” he said.

“Bump uglies? You did not just say that.”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“How is this any of your business?”

“Oh, don’t get all wiggy,” Charlie said. “I’m your brother. You can talk to me.”

“There is nothing to talk about,” Mel said. “The man has the biggest case of his career on the line, and he’s working 24-7. Bumpin’ uglies can wait.”

“I don’t think that sets a very good precedent for the long term,” Charlie said.

Mel clapped her hands over her ears, “La-la-la-la. I’m so not having this conversation. La-la-la-la-la.”

Mercifully, Darth Vader, who now resembled a boy, chose that moment to hurry out the back door for good-night hugs. Mel kissed his damp head and was pleased to see him scamper across the lawn to give Joe a good-night high five.

Joe winked at her, and she felt her heart lift. So what if everyone in the Valley of the Sun knew that they hadn’t gotten horizontal yet. Heck, maybe she’d wait until she married him. Married him? Did she really just think that? Uh-oh.

She glanced up and found Joe watching her. She hurriedly looked away. It would not do for him to sense her thoughts had strayed anywhere near the
M
word. She knew men who would flee to Mexico without a passport if they thought the girl they were dating even entertained the idea of a white gown and a limo ride. Mel didn’t know if Joe was one of those men, and until she knew, it would behoove her to play it cool. Act casual.

Luke Skywalker appeared before her, and Mel kissed his head, too. It wasn’t enough, however, and he wriggled into her lap and demanded a story. He handed her a beat-up copy of
Curious George
, and she remembered her father reading it over and over and over again to her and Charlie when they were little.

She glanced at Joe, and he nodded, letting her know they had time for stories. She smiled and went in to read the two boys to sleep.

She tried not to think about what it would be like to have a child with Joe. Would it have his dark hair and warm brown eyes? Mrs. Joe DeLaura.
Eep.
She smacked her forehead with the book.

“What did you do that for, Aunt Mel?” Darth Vader asked. He pushed his mask up onto the top of his head to get a good look at her.

“I was trying to smack some sense into myself,” she said.

“Did it work?” Luke Skywalker asked.

“No, I don’t recommend it,” she said.

Both boys nodded, and Mel hugged them close. Well, if she couldn’t be a role model for what to do, at least she could model what not to do. Story of her life.

“Okay,” Mel said as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Joe was in the living room, waiting for her while she tried to make herself look presentable. Tonight was the night, she was sure of it. And it wasn’t that she felt goaded on to the next level because everyone seemed to feel the need to comment on their lack of momentum in that direction. Not at all.

It was merely a good night for it. Valentine’s Day was coming. There were hearts and flowers everywhere you looked. Love was in the air.

She adjusted the straps of her silky, pale blue nightie and ran her fingers through her short blonde hair. Her teeth were brushed; anything that needed to be shaved or plucked had been. She had spritzed herself with perfume, or, more accurately, she had spritzed the air and walked through it. She was as ready as she’d ever be.

Mel slowly opened the bathroom door and stepped out into her living room, which was also her bedroom. A grating sound like a logger working a chainsaw filled the room, followed by a rush of air.

Joe had one arm draped across the back of the futon and his other hand held the TV remote. He looked as if he’d been watching TV, and then his head had flopped back against the cushions. The man was as unconscious as a fighter who’d been KO’d.

Mel wondered if she should wake him up. But somehow it just seemed cruel, given how tired he was. She knew this case was giving him trouble. The defense attorneys were charging that the evidence had been tampered with, and they were out to discredit Joe’s best witness. In sleep, the man had some peace. How could she disturb that?

She turned and went back to the bathroom, where she changed into her comfy pajamas. Then she went back out to the living room and pulled out the futon, shifting Joe as necessary. When she climbed in beside him, he wrapped his arms about her, and Mel smiled. Suddenly, she didn’t care what anyone else thought. She and Joe had all the time in the world.

Mel awoke to a hot cup of coffee on the table by her head and a note. It was short and sweet, but it sent shivers down to her toes. Joe had better be able to put this shooter away and soon, or she was afraid she’d have to shoot him herself.

“You’re going to have to fire her,” Marty said. He was wearing a blue Fairy Tale Cupcake apron and wiping down the tables after a group of older ladies had flirted outrageously with him and eaten a dozen cupcakes.

“I can’t fire my business partner,” Mel said. “She’s just late. She’ll be here.”

“She leaves early, shows up late or not at all,” Marty said. Without his toupee, the remaining wisps of his hair stood up in indignation. He looked every inch the cranky old man. “What kind of partner is that?”

“She’s going through something,” Mel said. “We just have to give her some time.”

He heaved a put-upon sigh. “She’d better get it together quickly. You’re not going to have my free labor to bail you out after the contest.”

“I appreciate your help,” Mel said. “Angie will come around. You’ll see.”

As if on cue, the front door opened and in strode Angie. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Two hours late, little missy,” Marty chided her. “You’d better have a good excuse.”

Angie looked from him to Mel. “I’ve been replaced?”

“Marty’s helping me out for free raffle entries.”

Angie glanced at the box. It was stuffed with slips.

“Wow, that contest was a good idea,” she said. “Let me dump my stuff, and I’ll grab the front. I know you need to prep for class tonight.”

“Thanks,” Mel said.

Angie vanished, and Marty plunked his hands on his hips and gave Mel an outraged stare. “You’re not even going to ask her where she’s been?”

“She’ll tell me if she wants me to know,” Mel said.

“You know she was with that musician,” Marty said.

“Maybe,” Mel said.

Marty lifted off his apron and tossed it down on the counter. “I’m late for yoga.”

“So, you’re just going to make like a vrksasana and leave?” she asked.

“Ha! Yoga tree pose . . . leave . . . very funny,” Marty said. “How long have you been waiting to use that?”

“A while.”

Marty ran a hand over his shiny dome. Mel guessed this was the first time he’d been to yoga without his rug.

She suspected he was nervous.

“You look fine,” she said.

He scowled at her. “I know that. Don’t you think I know that?”

He shuffled to the door.

“See you tomorrow,” Mel called.

He gave her a curt wave and let the door bang shut behind him.