“Bring him along.”
Elvis started to purr and looked in my direction, almost seeming to smile.
“Thank you,” I said. “We both accept your invitation.”
Charlotte smiled and went back to ironing the lace curtains she wanted to add to the front window display.
I gave Elvis a scratch behind his ear, leaning in close to his furry face. “You’re such a suck-up,” I said.
He licked my chin, his way of saying “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Charlotte had also invited Mac to dinner but he was going sailing so he took a rain check. Charlotte, Elvis and I drove over to her little yellow house after work. I’d spent a lot of time in that house growing up and I knew my way around it and the entire tree-lined court as well as I had my grandmother’s house.
I set the little table in the kitchen as Charlotte put water on to boil for our spaghetti. She pulled out lettuce, an English cucumber, a couple of radishes and some tiny red tomatoes. I washed the lettuce as Charlotte chopped the vegetables for the salad. While we worked I told her that I’d shared her idea for offering classes at Legacy Place with Mr. P. and Mac.
“They liked the idea,” I said. I reached for one of the tiny tomatoes in the colander and popped it into my mouth. They were sweet and delicious from ripening in the August sunshine in Charlotte’s backyard.
“I have the rental agent’s business card,” she said. “That’s probably who you’d want to talk to.”
“Are you thinking about selling this house?” I immediately asked.
“Of course not,” she said, putting a hand over the strainer as I tried to swipe another tomato. “I have a business card for Coleridge’s Funeral Home as well. It doesn’t mean I’m planning to avail myself of their services anytime soon. I just like to be prepared.”
Something caught her eye on the stove behind us and she turned to check the spaghetti pot. I took advantage of her momentary distraction to pop a tomato in my mouth. I did my best to look innocent when Charlotte eyed me, a hint of suspicion in her gaze but in the end I gave myself away when I couldn’t figure out how to talk around a mouthful of tomato.
We were just starting to eat when the back door opened and Nick stepped into the kitchen.
Charlotte immediately turned to me. “I didn’t know he was coming,” she said.
Nick caught sight of me as she spoke and the smile faded from his face. “I can go,” he said.
I shook my head. “That’s silly. This is your mother’s house. You shouldn’t have to leave.”
“Well, I don’t want to make you leave,” he said, fingering the dark stubble on his chin.
I twirled my fork in my spaghetti and managed to spear a tiny meatball along with the pasta. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said, putting the whole thing in my mouth and making a mental note that the next thing Rose and Charlotte were teaching me to make was Charlotte’s spaghetti sauce.
I took my time chewing my food. Having a little fun at Nick’s expense was probably going to come back to bite me. I finally looked at him. “We’ve disagreed in the past and we’ll disagree again. I’m certain of that.”
Nick laughed. “I can’t argue with that logic,” he said.
“Have you eaten?” Charlotte asked.
“You don’t have to feed me, Mom,” he said.
“So it’s just a coincidence you stopped in at suppertime?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Color flooded Nick’s cheeks. He dropped his gaze for a moment. “Busted,” he said. “Please feed me.” He reminded me of a mischievous little boy.
Charlotte got to her feet.
I stood up as well. “Sit,” I said, waving her back to her chair. “Your supper’s getting cold.” I got a pot from one of the bottom kitchen cupboards.
“So is yours,” she said.
I handed Nick the pot and sat back down.
Nick laughed. “Sarah’s right,” he said. “She’s not subtle, but she’s right. I can make spaghetti.” He put water in the pot and set it on the stove, then he brought a place mat and utensils to the table.
I slid over to make room for him.
Once he’d set his place he sat down, folded his hands on his place mat and turned to look at me. “Have you found out who killed Erin Fellowes yet?”
“Nicolas!” Charlotte exclaimed.
He leaned toward me. “It’s okay. She didn’t use my middle name. I’m not really in any trouble.” His dark eyes danced with humor.
I wanted to be mad at him, but I couldn’t help but be charmed, at least a little.
I shook my head. “No,” I said, “but we do have a couple of leads.”
“You went to see Stevie Carleton.”
I wasn’t surprised he knew. I was certain he was keeping fairly close tabs on what the Angels were doing. “We did,” I said, wiping a bit of sauce from my chin.
“You know it wasn’t her.” He said the words as a statement of fact, not a question.
“What makes you so sure?” I asked.
Nick glanced over at the pot of water on the stove. “She must have told you about the flat tire she had the day Erin Fellowes was killed. By the time it was fixed it was too late in the day for her to have made it here. Even if she drives like you do.”
“I take it Michelle verified that?” I said.
Nick nodded. “I take it Alfred did the same,” he said.
I nodded.
Charlotte picked up her plate and got to her feet. “Decaf?” she asked.
“That sounds good,” I said. “You sit. I’ll make it.”
Nick put a hand on my arm. “No, I’ll get it,” he said. He got to his feet. “Let me make the coffee, Mom,” he said. “I’m trying to show Sarah that I have more than my boyish good looks to offer.”
Charlotte looked at me. “This whole helpful act isn’t actually working, is it?”
I held out my hand, palm down, and waggled it from side to side. “It’s iffy,” I said, “but he is cute trying, so why don’t we let him keep going?”
Nick made coffee for us, cooked his spaghetti and warmed up some sauce and even got his mother and me each a slice of her apple coffee cake. We continued to talk about the case.
“You know about the fraud investigation into du Mer.” Again, a statement of fact.
“Mac doesn’t think Leila knew about the substitution of the cheap ingredients,” I said. I didn’t see the harm in sharing that small piece of information.
“I think he’s probably right,” Nick said, managing to spear two tiny meatballs with his fork.
I gestured at him with my coffee cup. “No, no, no. This is where you’re supposed to disagree.”
He threw up his hands in mock dismay. “Crap! I forgot my lines.”
“I like it when the two of you get along,” Charlotte said as she got up to refill her cup.
Once her back was turned I leaned over and socked Nick on the arm.
“Ow!” he mouthed.
“What have you done with the real Nick?” I wrinkled my nose at him.
He smiled. “It’s not a big deal. I reviewed the details of Leila McKenzie’s accident and for what it’s worth I don’t think Mac had anything to do with it.”
“It’s worth a lot,” I said quietly. I noticed he didn’t say anything about believing that Mac wasn’t hiding anything. “What about Stevie’s partner?”
Nick got to his feet, picking up his own plate and collecting my empty cake plate as well.
“Davis Abbott? He was in Canada.”
I stood up as well and took Charlotte’s plate out of her hand. “We have this,” I said. “Sit.”
“I can do a few dishes,” she protested.
“So can Nick and I,” I said. “Gram always said it builds character.”
Charlotte smiled then. “Well, you two certainly are characters.”
She sat back down and I looked over at Elvis, who was watching Nick just in case there were any meatballs that had been missed. The cat looked in my direction. “Keep an eye on Charlotte,” I said. To my surprise he came right across the floor and launched himself onto her lap, where he quickly settled, his green eyes locked on her face.