“Oh no.” I put her on speakerphone. “Hey, Betty Jean, I’m so sorry.”
“You should be. Dinner is getting cold. When you will be here?”
“Um. Five minutes? And could you put an extra plate on the table? Will’s going to join us.”
She makes a growling sound. “With pleasure.”
Chapter Sixteen
“That’s the best beef stew I’ve ever tasted,” says Will. “Thank you.” He pats his tummy appreciatively, then smiles across the table at Betty Jean, who openly leers at him because some things never change.
“Glad you liked it,” she says. Thank goodness she’s ditched the Farrah Fawcett wig and the Spanx. Her hair is back to normal, and without all the mascara she’d been caking on in the past few days, her blue eyes seem clearer. I’ve never noticed before because her big personality overshadows it, but she’s an attractive woman. I bet when she was younger, she was a real knockout. No wonder she was able to, as she puts it, “snare” four husbands.
Will offers to do the dishes, and I’m more than happy to let him. He goes back and forth between my kitchen and the dining room, clearing plates and cleaning up.
“Yes, thanks for dinner,” I say. “And sorry again for being so late.”
“Just where were you kids anyway?” she asks.
Why not tell her? It’s not exactly a secret. “Trying to figure out who killed Jefferson Pike.”
“Any luck?”
“Not really. Pretty much everyone who had a motive to dislike the man has an alibi for the time of his murder.”
“I hear the real J.W. Quicksilver is the prime suspect. I hear he came to town and confronted Jefferson Pike and the two of them had a big fight and that he killed him. Which means the real J.W. Quicksilver was in my house.” Her eyes go round. “Looks like I got J.W. Quicksilver to my book club meeting after all. Just a couple of hours too early. Too bad no one knows his real name or what he looks like. He might be a murderer, but to the people in this town that Jefferson Pike swindled, he’s a hero.”
“Where on earth did you hear all that?” I ask.
“Table number six. I had no idea how much gossip you could pick up working here. You must know everything juicy that happens in this town.”
Will rejoins us in the dining room. “Lucy tells me that you helped at the café today. That was nice of you.”
“Oh yeah. Easy peasy. I’ll have to get some better shoes, but I think I can make it work.”
“Make what work?” I ask.
“Sarah asked if I could stay on a few mornings a week, so I said, sure, why not?” She winks at Will. “That way I’ll get first crack at all the best gossip.”
“She mentioned something about that,” I say carefully. “But we haven’t fully discussed it yet.”
“Well she went ahead and hired me. On account of how you’re going to be busy once she goes into business with that Heidi Burrows.”
I go still. “What?”
“And I thought I needed a hearing aid,” Betty Jean mutters. “For partners, the two of you sure do seem out of whack. That’s why she left early today. To go over to Heidi’s Bakery.”
“Lucy,” Will warns, seeing the expression on my face, “don’t jump to any conclusions. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation behind that.”
There’s a logical explanation, all right. Sarah wants to ditch our partnership. Not that I blame her. Ever since I’ve found my first dead body, disaster has become my middle name. I’m always running out the door on some emergency or other, leaving her stuck to do her job and mine. No wonder she’s looked so tired lately.
How long have she and Heidi been planning this? Long enough to be quoting the same marketing tactics, that’s how long.
The only thing that doesn’t make sense is her offer to cover Will’s loan. Except … it does make sense. Sarah is the nicest person I know. If she’s planning to leave me, then she’s probably feeling horribly guilty. Paying off Will’s loan is her way of making it up to me.
I feel worse than I did last Christmas morning when I ate the entire bag of dark-chocolate-covered almonds.
“You look sick,” says Betty Jean. “I hope it wasn’t my beef stew.”