Анна Керн - Deadly Diamond

The female cats were no longer interested in her wardrobe, now that she’d purged her closet of all the unattractive clothes. In keeping with her more casual style, her wardrobe was now up-to-date and flattering.

The doorbell chimed and we all followed her to the door, Pooky anxious to meet the new man and ready to dislike him. As it turned out, Steele came with a bag of treats in his pocket and the two of them left for the Ethiopian restaurant having made three new friends.

As a precaution, I had asked Gemma, one of Pooky’s outdoor cat friends, to keep an eye on Alyx when she was away from me if she could.

Gemma had ingratiated herself with Hunter’s assistant, Dorinda, when I gave her a job to do that involved surveillance of the lawyer’s office. She visited Pooky on occasion, and I was glad to hear that now she had a home when she wanted one, and could depend on regular meals––no cat should have to scrounge for food.

When they returned from their date, Alyx invited Jonathan in for coffee. They engaged in small talk while she prepared the coffee and it was ready within minutes. She watched him stir three teaspoons of sugar into his cup and asked him what motivated him to start traveling.

“I was born in Africa. While in college, and against my parent’s wishes––I might add––I decided to visit my birthplace. I loved the experience and knew that it was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. So when I graduated, I got a job with an import-export company in Chicago, and the rest is history, as they say.”

“Did you tell me that Lithuania was the last country you visited?”

“Yes, that’s right. I was there about a month ago. I met some wonderful artists whom I hope I can continue to do business with.” He shifted in his chair, moving a little closer. “That’s enough about me; now tell me about you. Are you a transplant like most of us here in Florida?”

“There’s really not much to tell. I was born and raised in Lansing, Michigan. My brother, Tom, and his family were already living in this area when I moved here. My ex and I had often talked about moving to a warmer climate and since our son was five and starting school, we thought it an appropriate time to make our move. Five years later, I found myself a single mom, on my own. I went back to school to become a designer and met Maggie. We both already had a large collection of things and talked about someday owning our own business. One day, I was walking along Ocean Street and saw a building for sale, made an offer, and as you said, the rest is history.”

They both reached for their coffee. Alyx put her cup down. “I know you’re not married now; have you ever been?” she asked.

He shook his head. “There have been significant others. I’m not seeing anyone now. How about you? I assume, since you’re here with me, there’s no one special in your life?”

She lowered her eyes before she answered. “No, there isn’t.”

The rest of the evening was devoted to general conversation––business, the area, and other light subjects.

Alyx tried to stifle a yawn and lost. She apologized and explained why she was so tired.

“Do you often conduct estate sales?”

“No, actually, we don’t. This was a special case; Althea was a friend.”

He blinked in quick succession. Alyx didn’t appear to have seen his reaction, probably due to her tiredness, but I did.

“Did the estate sale include all the contents of the house?”

“No. The better pieces we bought outright and are in our store––all together in one spot.”

“Did you find a favorite piece?”

She smiled, “Yes, the bed,” and she went on to describe it.

She yawned again, this time openly and no excuses.

“Okay, Alyx, I’d better go before you fall asleep on me. That wouldn’t be good for my ego,” he said, trying to sound hurt.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s a problem for you.”

She walked him to the door, and he took her hand in both of his, “I’ve enjoyed your company. Maybe we can do it again, soon?”

“I’d like that.”

She locked the door, turned off the lights and went straight to bed.

“There’s no need for a piece of sculpture in a home that has a cat.”

–– Wesley Bates

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: The Problem That Wasn’t a Problem

Alyx was on the phone when I ventured into the workroom the next day.

“Maggie, where are you calling from? Is everything all right?”

“I’m home and I’m fine,” Maggie said.

“Home? What happened, sweetie? I told you I was taking care of everything. I hope you didn’t come home just because of what happened.”

“No, that’s not why I’m back,” I heard Maggie say from the receiver. “Do you have time to talk? I’ll bring lunch.”

“I’ll make the time.”

Maggie lived in a one-bedroom condominium on the ocean. Her attractive seventh-floor condominium, decorated in a sleek modern style was second only to the ocean view from the floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors across the width of the living room. Traffic was usually heavy around lunchtime, and the ten-minute trip took us twenty minutes plus the time it took to pick up the lunch order at the Cuban Sandwich Shop.

After greeting each other with hugs, Alyx didn’t waste any time getting to the point.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

“George’s son, Erik, is thinking about enrolling in college here in Florida and asked if he could stay with him for a year or two, so he can save money to pay for the next two years of school, and George told him that he can stay for as long as he wants.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you so upset about that? Granted, you won’t have the same privacy you have now, but you can work it out, can’t you?” Alyx took a sip of lemonade and set it down.

Maggie did the same, except she held on to hers and paced to the door and back.

“That’s not it. It’s that I don’t know how to behave around a nineteen-year-old. I’ve never had any kids, and I don’t really know him; I’ve only spent a few days with him. I don’t know how to be a mother; I don’t even know how to cook. What if he hates me?”

“Maggie, he’s not going to hate you. To begin with, you don’t have to mother him; he has a mother already, and, secondly, George loves you. Did he say anything that sounded like he’s changing his mind?”

She shook her head, drained her plastic cup, and dropped it in the wastebasket. “He has no idea why I wanted to come home. Since I’m the one who suggested going in the first place, he had no problem with me changing my mind.” She smiled. “Sometimes I think he’s too good to be true.”

“The old Maggie would have said he was ‘too good for her ,’ and that’s why I can say I think you’re experiencing commitment jitters.”

“I should have stayed here and helped you instead of running away.”

Alyx waved away the sentiment and suggested they eat lunch. Maggie took a bite of the crunchy lunchmeat sandwich and asked if there was any new information about the break-in or the estate sale.

“The sale went fine. Nelda did a great job. Almost everything sold for the price marked.” Then, she hesitated, “Something odd did happen though.” She pulled the note from her purse and handed it to Maggie to read.

Maggie read the short note out loud: “SHE’S GONE AND SO ARE HER THINGS––LEAVE IT ALONE OR ELSE … Oh, my! Alyx! You did tell Detective Smarts about this, right?”

“Well, I tried. I left him a message but I haven’t heard back from him yet.”

She picked up her cell phone and handed it to her. “Call him again, Alyx.”

“All right, Maggie, I’ll give him a call if you promise to call George and talk to him about the changes you’ll have to make with his son coming––and be sure to tell him you’ll be joining him more often on his picking jaunts.”