Krista Davis - Diva 01 _ Diva Runs Out of Thyme, The

“That’s Blue Henderson,” she hissed.

“Blue? What kind of name is Blue?”

“He’s one of the biggest real estate agents in Old Town. He sold us our house. Don’t you get it? She’s shopping for a house on our block.”

“Don’t screw up your face that way,” I whispered. “Besides, there’s nothing for sale.”

“If Blue Henderson is here, something’s for sale. This can’t be happening. Not on our block. There must be dozens of houses for sale in Alexandria. Why does she have to look here?”

Nina had to be wrong. Maybe Natasha and Blue bumped into one another and were just being friendly. I peeked around the corner again. Blue led Natasha up the front stairs of the Wesleys’ house and opened the front door for her.

“Have you been inside?” I asked Nina.

She looked miserable when she said, “Double lot, gorgeous old gardens, stunning moldings everywhere.”

In other words, Natasha would love it. And ruin the historic charm by renovating with modern Italian appliances.

Natasha and Mars living under my nose—not exactly what I had hoped for. I turned around and scanned the next block. Weren’t any houses for sale over there?

A flicker caught my eye and, with a jolt, I realized someone clad in burglar black lurked in the deep shadow of a basement entrance on the next block over.

I tried not to stare as I murmured to Nina, “Check the basement apartment next door. Could that be the guy who followed her yesterday?”

“It’s sure not Francie.” Nina fumbled in her pocket for her cell phone. “I’m calling Wolf. I think the cops blew me off last night when I reported her stalker.”

We strolled casually in the direction of Nina’s house and ducked through her service gate. While she left a message for Wolf, I searched the street for the man we’d seen. He hadn’t followed us. Except for the rustling of dried leaves in the breeze, nothing stirred.

“Why aren’t the cops available when we need them?” Nina snapped her phone shut. “Follow me, we’ll cut through the alley.” We jogged through Nina’s backyard and burst out her rear gate onto the alley.

His back to us, the stalker was leaning against the Wesleys’ rear fence. It was the perfect place to attack an unsuspecting Natasha when she walked to her car. She wouldn’t have noticed him until it was too late.

TWENTY

From “THE GOOD LIFE”:

Dear Sophie,

Other people who get married receive too many toasters or blenders. For some strange reason, I now have seven crystal vinegar decanters. Believe me, I don’t use that much vinegar. What else can they be used for?

—Vinegary in Vinton

Dear Vinegary,

I adore those little decanters or cruets because they’re so useful and elegant. You can use them to serve cream with coffee as well as for various liquors to add to warm drinks. Barbecue sauce in crystal adds a classy punch to your table. And if a family member has dietary restrictions, serving his special sauce in a crystal decanter makes it much more tasty.

—Sophie

The stalker turned, his hood shielding all but the smallest slice of his nose from view. He saw us and bolted.

We tore after him, raced through the alley, and came to a full stop where it met the sidewalk.

I didn’t see him anywhere. Not even a flash of black disappearing around a bend or into a garden.

Nina rasped, “There!” She pointed at him lurking behind a tree and he took off again.

We chased after him. He rounded the corner to the next street and we kept going.

Our running had become a fast stagger by the time we reached the corner and saw him step into a Jeep and speed away, his tires squealing. The Jeep looked suspiciously like the vehicle we’d followed through Old Town earlier.

“Did you see his face?” asked Nina between gasping breaths.

“No. Did you get the license plate?” I huffed.

“Me? I was busy watching Natasha so we wouldn’t lose her. You were the passenger, did you get it?”

“I was thinking about Bernie.”

My breath came hard and heavy as we trudged back. I hadn’t run like that since I was a kid. No wonder my pants were too tight.

As we neared Natasha’s car, she strode around the corner, her cape billowing in the breeze. She extracted a purse from the cape, and continued walking, head down with one hand in the purse, no doubt hunting for her car keys.

She looked up when she reached us, surprise evident on her face. “Have you been running? Girls, you have to work up to that kind of exertion. The two of you can hardly breathe. And really . . . dressing alike? How odd.”

I didn’t mince words. “Natasha, you’re definitely being stalked.”

“Not that again.” She surveyed the empty street. “You have got to get a hobby.” Her eyes widened. “This is about me and Mars. How stupid of me not to recognize that sooner. You’re trying to gaslight me. That’s not very nice, you know.”

“Natasha, pay attention. There’ve been two murders and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” I really didn’t.

Nina blurted, “What are you doing touring the Wesleys’ house with Blue?”

Her question caught Natasha off guard, but only briefly. “Surely you didn’t think Mars and I would live in a hotel forever.”

I’d been too busy concentrating on murder to give their housing issues much thought. I’d assumed they would return to Natasha’s country estate in a week or two. At least we now understood her interest in our street last night. She must have walked over from the hotel to check out the Wesleys’ house.

“Mars never should have sold you his interest in Faye’s house.” Natasha unlocked her car. “I’ve needed a town home. Now that the country house is uninhabitable, it seems the right time to make that purchase.”

She shot Nina and me a look of haughty disapproval. “You really ought to get involved in a charity. People do kooky things when they have too much time on their hands.”

I felt like lunging at her. We’d chased away her stalker, saved her from goodness knew what kind of harm, and she dismissed us like we were nuts.

I could almost breathe normally when I stared down into the backseat of her Lexus.

The contents on the seat took my breath away again.

A huge packet bearing the name of a local nursing home rested in the back. Poor June. The cheerful couple on the glossy cover didn’t make me feel any better. I wondered if Mars knew about it.

Nina made one last effort. “You may not have noticed him, but we’ve seen him following you twice now. You’re definitely being stalked and you’re a fool to ignore us.”

Natasha didn’t flinch. “Apparently I am being stalked—by you two.”

She slid into her car with an elegance I could never have mastered, especially in those heels. The engine purred and she drove away without a glance back.

Nina sputtered, “Can you believe that woman? We probably saved her life and she still doesn’t believe us.”

Natasha had spent her youth hiding feelings of inadequacy. She’d had plenty of practice covering up her emotions. But I couldn’t help thinking of her reaction to Wolf at Thanksgiving. She hadn’t been able to conceal her nervousness then. Whatever was going on, Natasha was up to her Audrey Hepburn-esque neck in it and I suspected she knew perfectly well that she was being stalked.

We walked back to our homes and I could see why Natasha longed for a house in Old Town. Front doors bore harvest wreaths, and pumpkins and gourds decorated front stoops. The graciousness of another era infused the old red brick of the houses and the sidewalk. Smoke from a fireplace perfumed the crisp air. I could hardly believe that we were caught up in some kind of murderous web.