Keith jumped to his feet, eyes beginning to sparkle.
I blew him a kiss.
He stopped and looked at me. “Can Jerrie come?”
Peg didn’t even pause. She made a welcoming gesture. “Join the party, Jerrie. We’re on our way. Come out and play.”
Why not?
I was on my way out when I paused in the entry hall. Jake clutched the phone, and if ever a woman’s face looked craven, it was hers. “I don’t know why the Gazette would be interested in the visit by the police here Saturday night. It was all about my car being stolen. Now that seems so unimportant. We’ve had a death in the family and even though Mrs. Flynn’s death has long been expected—she had congestive heart failure—it is still such a sadness for us. The police have been so helpful. They found the car and no harm done. We aren’t at all concerned with the theft now…Yes, I’m glad to help you…”
As Jake hung up, she looked both guilty and pleased. With the help of her good friend the mayor, Jake Flynn had kept the matter of a murder investigation very quiet. Until and unless Chief Cobb released information, the police arrival at Pritchard House Saturday night was now explained away.
I looked at her with some respect. Jake Flynn was more resourceful than I would have expected.
However, she was seriously underestimating Chief Cobb.
And me, though of course she had no idea I was on the case.
Instead of joining Peg and Keith in her car, I swooped in a leisurely fashion toward the park. Though only Heaven is truly carefree, I felt buoyant and relaxed. My elevated elation was not simply because I was skimming through the crisp air above holiday-bedecked Adelaide, suitably attired in an elegant jade wool pantsuit, the jacket cut in scallop fashion, a white cashmere coat, and white leather boots. Only rock stars take farewell tours, but this was my ghostly—forgive me, Wiggins—version. Everything was turning up roses. Chief Cobb was looking for Susan’s murderer. At two o’clock I would attend the gathering at Wade Farrell’s office and Keith would be named the rightful heir.
Until then, I could enjoy dear Adelaide and the holiday season.
Christmas lights gleamed on streetlamps. I took a moment to drop by the rectory of St. Mildred’s, hoping for a glimpse of the rector’s wife. Kathleen Abbott was my grandniece, and her daughter Bayroo was named after me and a bright redhead, too. My first assignment with the Department of Good Intentions had been to assist Kathleen. I was in luck. Kathleen and Bayroo were wrapping presents on the dining room table, both smiling and happy. I was careful to stay behind Bayroo because, like Keith, she would immediately see me. I blew them kisses and whirled away.
In a strip shopping center, a young couple looked at engagement rings in a jewelry store window.
Rings. I was thoughtful. I hadn’t noticed an engagement ring on Peg’s finger even though Susan had considered backing Dave Lewis, thinking in terms of Peg marrying Dave.
The two supermarkets were thronged, frozen turkeys jouncing in baskets laden with produce and cans. In the crowded parking lot of Walgreen’s, one fender bender was amicably resolved, another not. I skimmed above the crowds here and there. I loved the frazzled look of fatigue as well as the glimpses of joy and pleasure in the faces below. What would Christmas be without the overwhelming sense of so much to do for so many in so little time?
Autumn Heights Park was festive with tinsel-draped trees. Light strands outlined the fishing pier. A fitful breeze slapped water against the pilings. A dozen or so children braved the chilly playground, enjoying the jungle gym, swings, teeter-totters, merry-go-round, and, pièce de résistance, a treehouse with slides from several levels.
Keith headed straight for the treehouse. He swung onto the ladder and climbed, hand over hand, intent on reaching the top.
Peg moved to one side where she could watch him. Keith reached the top, edged toward the slide, looked cautiously around, then seated himself and, with a jerk, started down. He landed at the bottom, shrieking with laughter, and immediately ran back to the ladder.
As he climbed, Peg reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. Her hands were bare. She wore no engagement ring. She held the cell phone, her hazel eyes troubled. She was much too young for the trouble that pulled her round, kind face into a worried frown. The breeze stirred her brown curls.
“Look at me!” Keith waved his arms.
Peg waved in return. Her smile was quick. “I see you, Keith.”
I stood near the bottom of the slide.
Once again, he carefully positioned himself and down he came. He tumbled over as he landed but rolled to his feet, panting with excitement. “Did you see me, Jerrie?”
I clapped.
Keith sped toward the ladder, cheeks flaming, thin legs pumping. He climbed quickly and once again zoomed down the slide.
Peg flipped open her cell phone, punched a number. She stood stiff and straight, her expressive face apprehensive. She listened, then flipped the lid shut.
Keith ran by, almost careened into an older girl with pigtails.
Peg called out. “Slow down, Keith. Do you want to walk out on the pier?”
Keith shook his head. He was at the ladder and swarming up.
Peg started to drop the phone into her purse, then, with a determined frown, she flipped the lid, punched the number, waited a moment. “Dave, I had to call and tell you what’s happening. We’re meeting at the lawyer’s office at two. I’ve been thinking everything over. Susan wanted Keith to inherit. Everyone knows that’s true. I know what I have to do. I’m going to elect not to inherit in favor of Keith. I think I can do that. You remember that Susan’s husband, Tom”—she was talking fast, perhaps a little unclearly—“talked a lot about wills and estates and everything. That’s the kind of lawyer he was. He had a case once where the person who was going to inherit stood aside and gave the money to someone else. I don’t care what the others do. That’s what I have to do.” She stopped and breathed deeply, as if she’d been running. She almost spoke, hesitated, finally said quickly, “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Look at me, Peg. Look at me!”
Her eyes still held uncertainty, but she looked up and smiled widely at Keith. “Way to go, Keith. Five more slides and it’s time for lunch.”
I arrived at Main Street as Peg and Keith walked into Lulu’s. It was too bad I couldn’t appear and introduce myself to Peg as Keith’s Jerrie. Peg would have been glad to welcome an emissary here on Keith’s behalf. Wiggins was such a stickler about his don’t-appear-unless-you-have-to rule.
I really wanted a Lulu’s hamburger with pickles, onions, mustard, and a slice of cheddar on a bun that had been swiped across the griddle. Saturday night, I’d implored Susan to will the appearance of her purse, complete with a driver’s license. I knew without doubt that envisioning a particular outfit as I appeared brought it into being. Could I wish myself present in my jade green pantsuit and white cashmere coat and white leather boots with a matching white leather shoulder bag containing a billfold with nice crisp bills to cover the cost of a magnificent Lulu’s hamburger?
I plunged into the midst of the noon crowd, people laughing and chattering and intent upon their destinations. I swirled into being from the tip of my red head to the toe of my white boots and felt the delicious weight of a white shoulder bag. I opened the bag, found a billfold, saw a ten-dollar bill. I gave a chuckle of sheer delight. A tired-looking woman met my gaze. Her downturned mouth lifted. “Merry Christmas.” I called back, “Merry Christmas,” and darted inside the narrow café. I took a deep breath of the delicious smell of hamburgers hissing and onions browning on the griddle and hot grease bubbling with French fries.
I entered Lulu’s right behind Peg and Keith. The counter to the left ran the length of the narrow café. Four booths, all full, were on the right. There were—providentially?—three unoccupied seats at the counter. We hung our coats on hooks opposite the cash register. I slid onto the seat next to Keith. An efficient waitress with a ready smile and relaxed competence took our orders and swiftly brought iced tea to Peg, cherry limeade to Keith, and coffee to me.