car, the purse wasn’t there . And what a senseless thing for either of us to do, put Beverly’s purse out. We might as well go on and put the handcuffs on ourselves! Gee, here we are at the Law Enforcement Complex, let’s put incriminating evidence on the hood of a car?”
Paul’s thin mouth curved in a reluctant smile. It was the first time I’d had a glimpse of what Sally had seen in him.
“Okay, Roe. But if you didn’t leave the purse on Mrs. Youngblood’s car, and Mrs. Youngblood didn’t, who did? Why?”
Angel looked down at me, and I knew our blank gazes were a match. But Angel could see when a thought reached my brain, and shook her head, a tiny gesture as firm as a hand clapped over my mouth.
“We’re not detectives,” I said, looking at Paul. Angel unwrapped the cookie from the bag and started to eat it. Since her mouth was full, she had to shrug.
Though Paul fussed at us some more, he eventually hooked a pencil under the purse strap and carried it into Spacolec. Angel had finished the cookie and opened the Tostitos and the Coke.
“Someone has it in for you,” I observed.
“How do you figure that?” Angel asked around a Tostito.
“The flowers, sent to get you in trouble with your husband. The ribbon around the cat’s neck, to let you know you weren’t secure. The beating of Beverly Rillington after you had a standoff with her in the library. The placing of the purse on your car.”
“That’s the oddest thing,” Angel said. She gave me a look full of significance. And I couldn’t read it.
“Hell, it’s all odd!” I said, puzzled. “But you mean, because putting the purse out here was so open? Everything else could be done in the dark or long distance, so to speak.”
Angel looked away and finally nodded.
I had to restrain myself from asking her to explain all this Enigmatic she was giving me. We’d known each other for two years now, been neighbors for that time, and I thought we were as close friends as we could be, given the fact that she was my employee and we had very different characters. I did at least know Angel well enough to be sure that she would tell me what she was thinking when she was good and ready, and not a moment before.
By the look she was giving me, I could tell Angel thought I was being as dense as I thought she was being secretive. Mutually baffled and exasperated, we got in our respective cars and went home, Angel obeying the speed limit meticulously all the way. I followed behind her, driving automatically. My state of mind might best be described as confused.
I couldn’t help but remember Arthur’s long absence, his return with the coffee. Had Arthur Smith planted that purse on the hood of Angel’s car while she was in the market? If he thought discrediting Angel and perhaps by extension her husband and mine would somehow induce me to think more kindly of him, Arthur was not just mistaken, but seriously deranged.
I trailed slowly into the house, just in time to hear the phone ring. I dashed down the hall, past the stairs, to the second door on the right leading to our study/ library/television room.
“What now?” my mother asked in her cool voice. But I could hear the mixture of anxiety and exasperation underlying it, the two emotions that seemed to dominate in her dealings with me.
I glanced at the desk clock; of course, it was four on the dot.
“It’s okay. I just got in from Spacolec.”
“I think it’s outrageous, them asking you to come in to that place. They should have driven out to your home or talked to you in that new wing you gave the library.”
“Mother!” No one was supposed to know I’d given the kickoff donation for the new staff area. “How’d you find out?”
“I have my ways,” she said calmly, without a trace of humor.
“Well, don’t you ever tell anyone else,” I said hotly. If my gift became common knowledge, it would be pretty hard for me to keep working at the library; that wasn’t logical, but it was
Paul’s thin mouth curved in a reluctant smile. It was the first time I’d had a glimpse of what Sally had seen in him.
“Okay, Roe. But if you didn’t leave the purse on Mrs. Youngblood’s car, and Mrs. Youngblood didn’t, who did? Why?”
Angel looked down at me, and I knew our blank gazes were a match. But Angel could see when a thought reached my brain, and shook her head, a tiny gesture as firm as a hand clapped over my mouth.
“We’re not detectives,” I said, looking at Paul. Angel unwrapped the cookie from the bag and started to eat it. Since her mouth was full, she had to shrug.
Though Paul fussed at us some more, he eventually hooked a pencil under the purse strap and carried it into Spacolec. Angel had finished the cookie and opened the Tostitos and the Coke.
“Someone has it in for you,” I observed.
“How do you figure that?” Angel asked around a Tostito.
“The flowers, sent to get you in trouble with your husband. The ribbon around the cat’s neck, to let you know you weren’t secure. The beating of Beverly Rillington after you had a standoff with her in the library. The placing of the purse on your car.”
“That’s the oddest thing,” Angel said. She gave me a look full of significance. And I couldn’t read it.
“Hell, it’s all odd!” I said, puzzled. “But you mean, because putting the purse out here was so open? Everything else could be done in the dark or long distance, so to speak.”
Angel looked away and finally nodded.
I had to restrain myself from asking her to explain all this Enigmatic she was giving me. We’d known each other for two years now, been neighbors for that time, and I thought we were as close friends as we could be, given the fact that she was my employee and we had very different characters. I did at least know Angel well enough to be sure that she would tell me what she was thinking when she was good and ready, and not a moment before.
By the look she was giving me, I could tell Angel thought I was being as dense as I thought she was being secretive. Mutually baffled and exasperated, we got in our respective cars and went home, Angel obeying the speed limit meticulously all the way. I followed behind her, driving automatically. My state of mind might best be described as confused.
I couldn’t help but remember Arthur’s long absence, his return with the coffee. Had Arthur Smith planted that purse on the hood of Angel’s car while she was in the market? If he thought discrediting Angel and perhaps by extension her husband and mine would somehow induce me to think more kindly of him, Arthur was not just mistaken, but seriously deranged.
I trailed slowly into the house, just in time to hear the phone ring. I dashed down the hall, past the stairs, to the second door on the right leading to our study/ library/television room.
“What now?” my mother asked in her cool voice. But I could hear the mixture of anxiety and exasperation underlying it, the two emotions that seemed to dominate in her dealings with me.
I glanced at the desk clock; of course, it was four on the dot.
“It’s okay. I just got in from Spacolec.”
“I think it’s outrageous, them asking you to come in to that place. They should have driven out to your home or talked to you in that new wing you gave the library.”
“Mother!” No one was supposed to know I’d given the kickoff donation for the new staff area. “How’d you find out?”
“I have my ways,” she said calmly, without a trace of humor.
“Well, don’t you ever tell anyone else,” I said hotly. If my gift became common knowledge, it would be pretty hard for me to keep working at the library; that wasn’t logical, but it was
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