Cecilia Dominic - The Mountain's Shadow

“Thanks. I was wondering who had been helping him keep the house.”

She grinned and showed the gap between her front teeth. “You know men. They need all the help they can get.”

“That’s the truth.” I slid the spare key into my jeans pocket.

“So did he tell you about why he redid the kitchen?”

“No, I haven’t talked to him. In years, actually.” This wasn’t exactly Lonna’s investigation, but it would help mine. “I was really pleasantly surprised.”

“Well, about six months ago…” She broke off as a customer waved her over. “One minute, sweetie.”

I watched her as she walked down the length of the counter to where Peter Bowman had just settled in. He glanced at me, so I looked down into my coffee cup for a second. When I looked back up, Louise was nodding at him as if he’d just asked her a question.

“You’ll notice the local guys are a bit more polite than those city types,” she told me when she returned. “They’re all about to faint from curiosity about you, but it’s Peter Bowman who had the cheek to ask.” She wiped at an invisible spot on the counter with a red checkered rag.

“So you were saying something about my grandfather’s kitchen,” I reminded her.

“Your kitchen, if I recall, young lady.” The tenor voice at my shoulder startled me, and I turned to gaze right into the icy blue eyes of Peter Bowman.

“All right, my kitchen.”

He wedged his briefcase between me and the guy next to me. “’Scuse me, I have some business with this young lady,” he told the annoyed construction worker, who glared at him but moved over.

“I’ll tell you later, Miz Fisher. I’ve got to wait on these gentlemen over here.”

Louise disappeared and left me with my empty coffee mug. And Peter Bowman.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said.

“Yet each of us knows who the other is.”

“True enough. So no formal introduction is necessary.”

“Not unless you stand on such ceremony.”

“Not usually.” I took a breath. Here I was feeling like I needed to keep the conversation going, yet it was he who had barged into my space and my talk with Louise.

“I would appreciate an introduction to your lovely friend, the one you were with earlier.”

“Why?” I had to ask, although I suspected his intentions were less than honorable.

“Let me pay for your cup of coffee.”

“I’ve got it, thanks. So, how do you know Lonna?”

“She worked on a case for a friend of mine in Little Rock. Although we never met personally, he pointed her out to me online.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d like to become acquainted. I may have some work for her here.”

“She’s spoken for.”

“I’m sure. But I’d like to meet her regardless.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Please do. In the meanwhile, I’ll speak to the sheriff and let him know we have an esteemed P.I. in our neighborhood.”

“She’s incognito for now.”

“Then we shall definitely have to talk.” He reached in his pocket, and for a moment I thought he was going to draw a gun on me, but he pulled out an ivory-colored business card.

“I look forward to seeing her in the morning. My schedule’s clear until lunch.” He disappeared into the crowd.

“That one’s a snake,” Louise said as she suddenly reappeared in front of me, coffee pot in hand. “What did he want with you?”

“Not me, my friend.”

Louise nodded as if Peter Bowman asking about an attractive woman wasn’t at all unusual. “His poor wife. She seems to be such a nice little woman too.”

“Any kids?”

“Lance is a cutie pie, but he’s difficult. His mother has her hands full with him and his dad.”

“How old is Lance?”

“Terrible two. And he is one hundred percent little boy.”

Another memory jolted me. My brother had been like that—a challenge for both my parents, although my father had taken pride in Andrew’s rough-and-tumble personality. It was a miracle he’d never broken a bone.

Louise glanced over her shoulder, where another new face had joined the crowd. “Look honey, I know you must be real curious about everything that’s been going on. Why don’t you come by tomorrow morning when it’s not so busy, and I’ll fill you in on the town gossip about your granddad?”

“That would be great.” The tension in my chest that had been there since the sheriff’s visit eased a little. “Thanks, Louise.”

She waved and moved down the line, refilling coffee cups and greeting newcomers. I left enough money for the coffee plus a generous tip and squeezed out of the diner. As I walked out the door, I realized I had no idea what Lonna and I were going to do for dinner, but there was no way I’d turn around and fight my way back to order something to go from the packed diner. A chill had crept into the air with the setting sun, and I shivered.

“You’ll catch your death of cold out here.” The tone was mocking. I turned to see Leonard Bowman leaning against a lamppost. He wore a black leather jacket over an open green polo shirt and khaki trousers, and although his posture was relaxed, he seemed like a compressed spring ready to uncoil at any moment.

I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I just had a conversation with your brother.”

“Did he try to charm or threaten you?” A smile tugged at his lips, and I noticed he was the antithesis of his pale brother with his wavy dark brown hair and black eyes. More intense too. The image of him in Galbraith’s office came to mind.

“A little of both, but mostly threaten.”

“That’s usually how he works.”

“Leonard, there you are.” Her greeting and the staccato clicks of her black designer heels announced the appearance of a tall woman with emerald eyes. Her milk-white skin glowed in the half-light, and her black hair fell in soft curls to midway down her back. She, too, wore a light leather jacket, but underneath was a ruby red dress that left very little to the imagination. I couldn’t really see her purse, but I guessed it cost more than my car.

“Kyra Ellison, this is Joanie Fisher.”

“Doctor Joanie Fisher, actually.” I had to do something to get back on equal footing with this woman.

“Charmed.” She held her hand out for me to shake, but the limpness in her fingers told me she considered it—and me—a waste of time.

“Enjoy your evening,” I told them and half-turned to go, but then I made an about-face.

“Do you know where my friend and I could get dinner?” I asked.

“Well, we’re on our way to Choucroute, a French place here in town.” Kyra frowned at my attire as though to suggest I was horridly underdressed.

“Hmm, we just had French for dinner last night.”

“Then you might want to try Tabitha’s. It’s a good casual American place.”

“Thanks.”

Kyra grabbed Leonard’s arm and turned him away.

“Nice to meet you,” I called after them. Damn, I was feeling insecure. Lonna, with her Italian beauty, never had that effect on me. But then, no one would describe her as a “snob”. Kyra Ellison definitely qualified as one. And a bitch to boot.

Tabitha’s was a pub-style restaurant with a full bar against the back wall, which hid the kitchen from view. The dark wood paneling gave the place a snug feel in spite of the large mirrors that hung behind the bar and on the top half of the walls behind the booths. Candles in Mason jars flickered on the tables and provided most of the low light that suffused the restaurant.

“We’ve got to find a grocery store,” I remarked to Lonna after we gave the hostess my name and the other diners in the restaurant—all six of them—looked up with curiosity. After Robert had dumped me, I’d wished to be more noticeable. The notoriety had now worn thin, and part of me wished I could just go back to my apartment in Memphis, crawl in bed and wake up to find all of it from the fire onward had been a bad dream.