“Why? He was being a gentleman and looking out for your safety. It’s what Milo does and it’s one of the many reasons I love him.” She gazed down at the tulip in her hand, felt the smile as it spread across her face. “Isn’t this beautiful? He knows I love tulips and so he planted some bulbs in his yard last year just for me.”
She knew she was babbling but she couldn’t help it. She was happy. And after the near sleepless night she’d had worrying about a phantom problem, it felt good to let it out. “He even knows I like the yellow ones best.”
Beth tightened her grip on her portfolio. “He knows my favorite flower, too.”
Cocking her head a hairbreadth to the side, she studied the woman closely. When they’d first met, she’d truly believed the woman’s slightly inappropriate comments reflected nothing more than ignorance. But now, after last night’s phone call and the innuendos that had been purred into the phone, she had to wonder how much was ignorance and how much was intent.
“I’m sure he does,” she finally said. “He’s thoughtful that way.”
“Thoughtful,” Beth repeated. “I suppose that’s a description that works, but if I could only use one word to describe Milo it would be . . .” The woman’s words trailed off in favor of a combination giggle and hair toss. “On second thought, perhaps that’s a description best kept to myself.”
She felt her mouth go dry.
Stop it, Tori. She’s just trying to get you unsettled.
Shaking her head free of the images that threatened to drag all her insecurities to the surface, she met Beth’s smile with one of her own—the same one that Milo loved. “Perhaps it is. Besides, people change over the years. And it has, after all, been fourteen years since you broke up.”
“It’s funny how fourteen years can sometimes feel more like fourteen
hours
, don’t you think?” Beth flicked her hair over her shoulder and stood even taller, her stiletto heels making her seem more than 70 percent legs. “Oh, I suppose I should be a good hostess and invite you to dinner at the house soon. Are you free this evening by any chance?”
She felt the lump forming in her throat, heard the way it left her words more than a little raspy. “The house?”
“Yes. I love to entertain and Milo has a very nice dining room though”—Beth dropped her voice to a near whisper—“between you and me, it needs a womanly touch, don’t you think?”
Before Tori could utter a word, Beth waved her long fingernails in the air. “Though I should probably give Milo a ring and make sure it’s okay with him. He might have other plans for us this evening.”
“Other plans?” She knew she sounded like an idiotic parrot but it was all she could think to say in the wake of Beth’s unsettling comments.
Beth reached out and patted Tori on the shoulder. “But I’ll know more in a few hours when we meet for lunch. I’m thinking a picnic might be nice on such a beautiful day, what do you think?”
A picnic?
She swallowed over the lump that threatened to render her completely speechless. “I—I think I better get going, the library opens in thirty minutes and there are things I—I need to do.”
The megawatt smile returned to full strength. “I think it’s so . . .
sweet
that you work in a library.” Beth bobbed her head to the left and then the right, her gaze firmly fixed on Tori’s face. “Though I’m not sure how you’d look with your hair in a bun. Your face isn’t necessarily the best shape for that kind of look.”
Don’t give her what she wants, dear.
And just like that, she felt her shoulders relax, Leona’s voice in her head spouting exactly the sentiment she needed to hear. If she had had any lingering doubt as to Beth’s motives where Milo was concerned, they were officially gone.
Beth Samuelson was out to get Milo. Of that she was certain. What was a little less certain, however, was whether she’d be content to stop at simple innuendos obviously designed and orchestrated to shake Tori’s confidence.
Nina met her at the back door to the library with a near face-splitting smile and a long poster tube. “I was hoping you’d get here early.”
Tori nodded as she reached past her assistant with the key and inserted it into the lock. “You could have went inside you know.”
“I know. But when I was walkin’ toward the steps just now I saw you walkin’ across the street. Figured it would be just as easy to wait.”
“Sometimes it pays to keep walking,” she mumbled before pushing the door open and stepping to the side to afford Nina passage.
Nina took two steps inside and then slowly turned, her large dark eyes trained on Tori’s. “Is everything okay?”
She lifted the tulip to her nose and inhaled slowly. “It was. And it will be now that I’m here but—you know what? Never mind. My day is only affected if I let it be affected, right?”
“Sounds like somethin’ my Duwayne would say.”
Squeezing Nina’s arm gently, she strode past the woman and into their shared office. “Your Duwayne is a very smart man.”
Nina followed, her smile of earlier returning in spades. “I know. In fact”—she pulled three posters from the tube and unrolled them for Tori to see—“he helped me with these all night. He was insistent that the placement of the words and pictures be just so in order to catch the kids’ attention at the high school.”
“The kids . . .” Her words disappeared as she leaned forward, her attention riveted on the homemade poster Nina had created for the walls of the high school. Bold lettering announcing the book club’s creation wound around pictures of some of the most popular teen titles. Scattered around the edges were clip-art pictures of teen-friendly foods like popcorn, ice cream, and soda. “Oh, Nina, I love it. It’s perfect.”
Nina’s face brightened even more. “You really think so?”
She looked again, her gaze sucked in by the visual appeal the poster offered. “Actually, I
know
it’s perfect.”
“Duwayne is goin’ to be tickled when I tell him.”
“I’m glad.” And she was. Pride was something everyone needed. It gave a person wings to accomplish even greater things.
“Your flower is beautiful.” Nina pointed to Tori’s hand. “It’s even your favorite color.”
“You’re right, it is.” She brought the flower to her nose once again and inhaled, the delicate aroma doing wonders against any lingering tension caused by her encounter with Beth Samuelson. “Milo picked it for me.”
“I’m not surprised.” Nina placed the posters on her desk. “Where’s he been hidin’ himself? I haven’t seen him here in a few days.”
“He—he’s busy.” She felt Nina’s eyes on her and met them with what she hoped was a normal smile. “But everything is fine. He brought me breakfast this morning.”
A dreamy look passed across Nina’s face. “Most men would sleep until noon on their day off. But yours? He gets up early to bring you breakfast. He’s mighty special, that man.”
She couldn’t agree more. To Nina, though, she simply said, “Sounds like we both hit the jackpot, didn’t we?”
“We sure did.”
Rummaging in her tote bag for a list of items she needed to attend to out on the floor, her gaze stopped on the notebook. She pulled it out and set it on her desk. “Nina? Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Miss Sinclair.”
She cringed at the use of her surname but knew it was futile to correct her assistant. From day one it had been the way Nina addressed her—on the floor, in their office, and at social events. No amount of reminding, asking, or telling changed that.
“Do you know either Caroline Rowen or Samantha Smith?”
Nina repeated the names slowly. “I’m not sure.
Should
I?”
“I guess not. I just figured that most moms with little kids find their way into libraries from time to time. And other than Sally’s birthday party the other day, I’ve not really seen either of them before except in passing at Leeson’s Market or in line at Debbie’s.”
“Wait.” Nina’s eyes widened. “Caroline Rowen has that little redhead doesn’t she?”
Tori nodded. “Zoe.”
“Yes, yes, that’s right. Nice little girl. Her mother is always very sweet.”
“And Samantha Smith?” She fingered the design on the cover of the notebook, her thoughts swirling with more questions. “You still can’t remember her?”
“What does she look like?”
Thinking back to Sally’s party, Tori did her best to describe the woman who’d spent much of the evening hovering around her daughter—behavior that made sense now in light of the information Milo had shared. “She’s about my height, short brown hair, big brown eyes, kind of quiet.”
Nina stopped mid–head shake. “Does she have a little girl, too?”
“I believe Milo said her name is Kayla.”
“Kayla, hmmm.” Nina tapped her finger to her lips. “No, I—wait, yes, I do. The little girl is painfully shy. But as hard as her shyness seems to be on her, it seems even harder on her mom.”
Tori cocked her head to the side and studied her assistant closely. “What do you mean?”
Walking over to the windows, Nina opened the one in the center. “Well, if this Samantha Smith person is the one I think she is, she was in here about a week before Sally’s party. She spent a good ten minutes trying to coax Kayla into the children’s room to play with the costume trunk and stage. The little girl kept shaking her head and biting her lip as if she was afraid to go without her mom. It caught my attention because at first I couldn’t figure out why the mom wouldn’t just go
with
the little girl.” Nina leaned closer to the screen and sniffed in the spring air. “But as I watched, I realized this little girl was painfully shy and that the mom was just trying to help her take some baby steps in a safe environment.”
“And?”
“She finally convinced Kayla to give it a try but not more than five minutes later the little girl was back at her mom’s side.”
Tori leaned against her desk and folded her arms across her chest, Nina’s words winding their way through her thoughts. “Do you have any idea what happened? Or do you think she’d just had enough time without mom?”
Nina’s lips curved downward. “I didn’t hear everything that happened but I know Kayla was upset. And when her mom asked what was wrong, the little girl insisted on whispering the answer. Whatever she said, it prompted her mom to give her a big hug and lead her out of the library empty-handed despite the stack of books she’d set on the information desk just moments earlier.”
“Do you think something happened?”
“Possibly. It was that day you met with the board members over lunch.”
She thought back to the day in question. “We brought in Dixie as backup, right?”
Nina nodded. “Perhaps she’d be the better person to ask.”
“You might be right.” Pushing off the desk, Tori gestured toward the hands of the clock that signaled the start of another day at Sweet Briar Public Library. “I’ll give her a call later on, see if she remembers anything that might be helpful.”
Chapter 19
She followed her lunch as it made its way down the checkout belt, its proximity to the various over-thecounter medications separated by the plastic orange divider Regina Murphy had slammed down as Tori approached the line. The action, in and of itself, wouldn’t have caught her by surprise all on its own. After all, the notion of paying for items you didn’t want wasn’t appealing to her, either.
But when it was accompanied by a raised eyebrow, clenched fists, and a cluck of disgust that echoed throughout Leeson’s Market it had a way of making a person feel rather pariah-ish.
The key was how to handle it. Did she keep her mouth shut and let the woman purchase her items and leave? Or did she reach out and try to make polite conversation?
She knew what Leona would say. She suspected Margaret Louise and Debbie and the rest of her friends would concur. But try as she might to keep quiet, she simply couldn’t.
“How are you, Regina?”
The woman pivoted on her three-inch heels. “How do you think I am?”
The fists were your clue.
Inhaling every ounce of courage she could muster, Tori pressed on. “I imagine you’re hurting. You lost a friend and a business partner.”
“Lost is a rather sugar-coated way of saying she was murdered, don’t you think?” Regina hissed through clenched teeth.
Tori swallowed back the lump that threatened to leave her speechless. “You’re right, it is . . . and I’m sorry.” She reached out, rested her hand atop the woman’s forearm. “I can only imagine how hard this is for you right now.”
“You have no idea.” Regina hoisted her purse higher on her arm. “One minute you’re moving through life under one assumption and the next . . . Well, you realize you were wrong. About everything and everyone.”
“Regina, I know you’re upset. I know that what happened to Ashley is horrific and that justice needs to be served but I can assure you that no one at Sally’s party had anything to do—”