pumpkin in the state. It must have been a slow week for murder in L.A. because a news crew came out to do a segment on this pumpkin. The dust hadn't even settled behind them before Selma Ann borrowed a typewriter and typed up a new menu. She stuck apples in just about everything on it. Even the burgers came with applesauce on the side. She doubled the prices while she was at it"
"Didn't that upset her regular customers?"
''No, because she kept two sets of menus—one for the tourists and one for the locals."
"Is that legal?" Kate asked, throwing him a startled look.
"I don't think the Better Business Bureau would have approved," Nick said dryly. "But she made enough extra off the tourists that year to spend a week on the beach in Maui, sunbathing and surfing."
"Surfing? Selma Ann?" Kate goggled at him. She'd met Selma Ann Carver. The woman was short and bone thin, with leathery skin and a face so full of lines that it looked like a topographical map of the Sierra Nevada. She claimed to be older than dirt and Kate believed her. The image of her sunning and surfing in Hawaii was enough to boggle the mind. "Selma Ann on a surfboard?"
"So she said." Nick shrugged. "She's mean enough and tough enough to do just about anything. You know that kid's poem that says something about the goblins will get you if you don't watch out? I always figured whoever wrote it must have known Selma Ann."
Kate was startled into laughter. "I can believe it. I once saw her harangue a customer for taking too long to order. She told him since he couldn't make up his damned mind, he could damn well eat what she damn well chose to bring him and if didn't like it, he could take his damned indecision to some other damned place. I don't know what she brought him but he ate it without question. I didn't blame him. She scares me to death."
Nick chuckled. ''Sounds like she hasn't changed a bit. She always— What the hell is that?"
He came to a dead stop and stared in disbelief at the structure in front of him.
"It's a barn." Kate's answer was calm but her mouth curved in an understanding smile at his shock.
"Barns are red. Or white. Or maybe a weathered kind of gray." Nick blinked as if to clear his vision but the image didn't change. "That thing is purple.''
"Wistful Wisteria," she corrected. "That's the name on the paint can. Brenda thought it would be a good idea, sort of in keeping with the general theme of the place, you know."
"Was she drunk at the time?" Nick demanded.
"I don't think so," Kate said a little regretfully. She almost wished her friend had been drunk. It made her uneasy to think that Brenda could make a decision like this while stone-cold sober.
The bam had even fewer pretensions to grandeur than the house. A plain, rectangular building with a peaked roof, it put function way above form and it seemed to Kate that it wore its new coat of paint with a faintly embarrassed air, as if it knew exactly how silly it looked.
"It's certainly...eye-catching." Nick said, groping for something positive to say.
"That's one way of putting it. I've hear more vivid descriptions. Gareth threatened to cite us for breaking some sort of visual pollution law."
"It looks like a menace to society to me. Someone with a weak heart could keel right over if they came upon it unexpectedly."
"Did I hear someone taking my name in vain?"
Kate's giggle ended on a startled gasp and she turned too quickly, nearly overbalancing. Nick's hand came out to steady her as Gareth stepped off the gravel path behind them. She pulled away from that light touch, guilt washing over her. There was no reason to feel guilty, she reminded herself, drawing a deep, calming breath. At least no reason to feel guilty for anything that had happened recently.
"Gareth!" She went to greet him, lifting her face for his kiss, ridiculously conscious that Nick was watching them.
"I didn't expect to find you here," Gareth said, smiling as he looked at his younger brother. He slid his
"Didn't that upset her regular customers?"
''No, because she kept two sets of menus—one for the tourists and one for the locals."
"Is that legal?" Kate asked, throwing him a startled look.
"I don't think the Better Business Bureau would have approved," Nick said dryly. "But she made enough extra off the tourists that year to spend a week on the beach in Maui, sunbathing and surfing."
"Surfing? Selma Ann?" Kate goggled at him. She'd met Selma Ann Carver. The woman was short and bone thin, with leathery skin and a face so full of lines that it looked like a topographical map of the Sierra Nevada. She claimed to be older than dirt and Kate believed her. The image of her sunning and surfing in Hawaii was enough to boggle the mind. "Selma Ann on a surfboard?"
"So she said." Nick shrugged. "She's mean enough and tough enough to do just about anything. You know that kid's poem that says something about the goblins will get you if you don't watch out? I always figured whoever wrote it must have known Selma Ann."
Kate was startled into laughter. "I can believe it. I once saw her harangue a customer for taking too long to order. She told him since he couldn't make up his damned mind, he could damn well eat what she damn well chose to bring him and if didn't like it, he could take his damned indecision to some other damned place. I don't know what she brought him but he ate it without question. I didn't blame him. She scares me to death."
Nick chuckled. ''Sounds like she hasn't changed a bit. She always— What the hell is that?"
He came to a dead stop and stared in disbelief at the structure in front of him.
"It's a barn." Kate's answer was calm but her mouth curved in an understanding smile at his shock.
"Barns are red. Or white. Or maybe a weathered kind of gray." Nick blinked as if to clear his vision but the image didn't change. "That thing is purple.''
"Wistful Wisteria," she corrected. "That's the name on the paint can. Brenda thought it would be a good idea, sort of in keeping with the general theme of the place, you know."
"Was she drunk at the time?" Nick demanded.
"I don't think so," Kate said a little regretfully. She almost wished her friend had been drunk. It made her uneasy to think that Brenda could make a decision like this while stone-cold sober.
The bam had even fewer pretensions to grandeur than the house. A plain, rectangular building with a peaked roof, it put function way above form and it seemed to Kate that it wore its new coat of paint with a faintly embarrassed air, as if it knew exactly how silly it looked.
"It's certainly...eye-catching." Nick said, groping for something positive to say.
"That's one way of putting it. I've hear more vivid descriptions. Gareth threatened to cite us for breaking some sort of visual pollution law."
"It looks like a menace to society to me. Someone with a weak heart could keel right over if they came upon it unexpectedly."
"Did I hear someone taking my name in vain?"
Kate's giggle ended on a startled gasp and she turned too quickly, nearly overbalancing. Nick's hand came out to steady her as Gareth stepped off the gravel path behind them. She pulled away from that light touch, guilt washing over her. There was no reason to feel guilty, she reminded herself, drawing a deep, calming breath. At least no reason to feel guilty for anything that had happened recently.
"Gareth!" She went to greet him, lifting her face for his kiss, ridiculously conscious that Nick was watching them.
"I didn't expect to find you here," Gareth said, smiling as he looked at his younger brother. He slid his