Zelly seemed to be pleased that she had been the cause of the laughter and she stepped outside. Jack felt so good that he handed her a cold beer.
“If that’s made with coconuts, I don’t want it,” she said.
Her statement made them laugh harder. Jack turned the chicken over and filled the grill with vegetables.
When the sheriff asked who Zelly was, Sara said she was the daughter of a friend and didn’t elaborate.
Sixteen
AS WAS HER HABIT, Sara woke early the next morning. She was glad to be alone in her bed. Her one night with Chet had been wonderful, but it wasn’t something she wanted forever. She’d had a lifetime of people pitying her because she was alone—meaning unmarried. But the truth was that she’d met only one man who she’d ever wanted to share closet space with: Cal Wyatt.
She was glad for her thick carpet as she went past the closed door of her study because Zelly was in there. Last night, by silent mutual agreement, they’d not talked more about the murder. They’d not mentioned Tayla at all. Zelly was a stranger and therefore not to be trusted with their secrets.
At nine, Sheriff Flynn went home looking better than when he’d arrived. Laughter had healed some of his misery.
Sara quickly dressed and put on makeup. She truly believed that the use of cosmetics was a sign of respect for other people. She was considerate of what they had to look at.
The study door was still closed when she went past it. It was dark outside and she loved the feeling of being the only person awake.
She’d been intrigued by the forensics people finding a tin marked Sylvia’s Tea. Had it been there when they’d seen the house? Was it in one of her photos but they’d not seen it?
She put the pictures on the big TV in the family room and started going through them. There was a spice rack in the kitchen and it did have some small boxes of herbal tea. One of them was metal and it was turned so the label didn’t show. No one had thought to turn it around.
She was annoyed with herself for missing something so blatant. Why hadn’t her curiosity been piqued by an unlabeled tin?
She sat on the couch and watched the other photos go by. Had she missed things in them too?
When the photo Jack had taken of the man came on the screen, she paused.
“That’s Lisa’s friend.”
Sara turned to see Zelly standing behind her. She had on the sweatsuit Kate had lent her. Zelly said that she wanted the pink negligee she’d seen in Kate’s drawers, but she was told no.
“I take pictures too.” Zelly sat down by Sara. “I have selfies from everywhere.”
Sara had to stamp down her urge to walk away from the woman. She didn’t like her and Virgos have a hard time dealing with people they can’t stand. “You know him? And Sylvia’s daughter, Lisa?”
“I just saw him for a minute, but Lisa is nice.”
None of them had considered that this unappealing woman knew something about the case. “When did you meet her?”
“It was like this. I mean early morning. Mom said that I could live in a black room and I’d still know when it was four a.m.”
“Me too,” Sara said. “Interesting things happen this early.”
“Yeah. One time when I was about six, I—”
“Lisa,” Sara said. “I’d really love to hear about her. If it was Sylvia’s daughter, that is.”
“I don’t know. She said her mother used to own the house.”
“Yes!” Sara felt her heart speeding up. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
“Well, it was like I told you. No wait, I told Jack. Or maybe it was Kate. Anyway, I thought I was going to live with Janet but she said no. But I did stay one night.”
“And you woke up early?” Sara encouraged.
“Yes. I was looking out the window. My mom and I always lived in an apartment so I wasn’t used to flowers. Palm trees scare me because of the coconuts. Did you know that people get killed when they fall on your head? They can—”