“So how’s Mom?” asked Chase.
“Ask her yourself! She’s in her room!”
Drawn by all the shouting, a woman appeared in the doorframe. She shuffled in, all one hundred pounds of her. Chase warmly enveloped her in an embrace.“Hey, Mom,” he said softly.
“Chase,” she said croakily. “It’s so good to see you.”
She was smaller than me, which was saying something as I’m pretty pint-sized myself, and she looked even thinner than me, too. About the size of the average New York catwalk model, I would say. She had a lovely face, short gray hair, and large eyes. All in all, she looked healthy. Not the human wreck Chase had made her out to be. And she seemed to recognize her son just fine, even calling him by his actual name. None of that ‘Johnny the Milkman’ stuff this time.
The woman turned to me.“And who is this? A colleague of yours?”
“Yes, she is, and also my girlfriend.”
The woman’s large eyes went even larger. “Your girlfriend!”
“You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend!” Aunt Ariadne harrumphed.
“Well, I do, and this is her. Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter.”
“A reporter!” Aunt Ariadne bellowed, as if I was Satan’s spawn itself.
“And a civilian consultant to the police department,” I hastened to add, hoping this would guarantee me safe passage from this apartment, in the event Aunt Ariadne didn’t kill me on the spot.
Both women studied me carefully.“She’s skinny,” Aunt Ariadne finally decided.
“She’s lovely,” said Chase’s mother.
“Thanks, Mrs. Kingsley,” I said.
“So where did you find her? asked Ariadne.
“Hampton Cove,” I said. “It’s where I live. And work.”
Aunt Ariadne snorted loudly.“The Hamptons again, eh? Are you a celebrity?”
“No, I’m not,” I admitted. “And I haven’t murdered one either.”
“Too bad. Everyone should murder a celebrity from time to time. Make a habit of it.”
“Odelia has actually solved a lot of celebrity murders,” said Chase. “She’s an ace sleuth.”
“Is she now?” asked Aunt Ariadne, giving me a dirty scowl. “Now why would you go and do a silly thing like that?”
“Because celebrities are just like people,” I said defensively, repeating something I’d told Detective Borrell. “I mean, celebritiesare people, obviously, and when they’re murdered they deserve to receive the same justice as the rest of us.”
“Silly notion, if you ask me. Damn silly.”
“Oh, come off it, Ariadne,” said Martha. “I think it’s wonderful. Chase has found himself a fellow sleuth to go sleuthing with. I think it’s wonderfully romantic.”
“Sleuthing together? Romantic? You’re nuts, Martha.”
“No, I’m not. You’re nuts if you think all celebrities are scum.”
“Theyare scum! A bunch of useless wastrels, the lot of them. Wasting our time, wasting our money, wasting our humanity.” She wagged a finger in my face. “Next time a celebrity is murdered, you should give the killer the Nobel Prize, that’s what you should do!”
“I’m sorry, but it’s not in my power to dole out Nobel Prizes,” I said, feeling a little overwhelmed by this woman. I kept my eye on that huge knife, hoping I’d said the right thing.
“’Stop scaring the girl,” said Martha. “Is this really the first impression you want to make on your future niece-in-law?”
“Niece-in-law?” asked Ariadne with a frown. “Are you going to marry this stick figure?”
“She’s not a stick figure,” Martha protested. “She’s simply slim, that’s all. Just like me.”
“And haven’t I told you a thousand times you have to eat more?!”
“You have, and I do, but I’m not like you. I don’t gain weight when I look at a glass of water.”
“Oh, now you’re calling me fat, are you? Nice! I put a roof over your head, sister!”
Chase had sidled up to me.“Are you all right? Aunt Ariadne can be a bit… forceful.”
“Scary, you mean.”
He grinned.“She used to scare the crap out of me when I was little. Still does, actually.”
We both watched the woman wield that knife as if she was going to carve up Martha. Finally, she placed it down and continued the argument unarmed, and we both heaved a sigh of relief.
“Um, can I ask you something?” asked Chase.
“What?” grumbled Ariadne, who’d turned to her pots that were simmering on the stove.
“Have you heard from Grandpa Kingsley lately?”
“No, we haven’t,” said Martha. “Why? Is there something wrong?”
Chase frowned.“No, I’m sure there isn’t,” he said, clearly not wanting to cause alarm. “He hasn’t returned my calls is all. And when I went to see him this morning he wasn’t home.”
“I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation,” said Martha.
“He’s probably drunk like a skunk and sleeping it off on some bench in Central Park,” said Aunt Ariadne, wiping her hands on her apron. “Typical.”
“Grandpa doesn’t do public intoxication,” said Chase. “So that’s out of the question.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up soon,” said his mother. “He’s just being secretive. You know your grandfather. He likes to surprise people.”
“I would prefer if he’d just pick up his phone.”
“Can’t pick up the phone when you’re strung out on booze,” said Aunt Ariadne gruffly.
“He’s not a drunk,” Chase insisted. “In fact I’m pretty sure he’s a teetotaler these days.”
“Have you found yourself a nice place to live yet, Chase?” asked his mother.
“Not yet, Mom, but I keep looking and I’ll find something.”
She nodded, darting an anxious glance at Aunt Ariadne. I remembered Chase telling me how he wanted to take care of his mother but wasn’t in a position to do so. For a brief moment I suddenly saw all of us living in my tiny house: me, Chase, his mom, Aunt Ariadne, and my cats. I shivered. It was not a prospect I enjoyed contemplating.
I looked up when Aunt Ariadne plunked a plate of hash browns in front of my nose, stabbed a finger at it, and snapped,“Eat! Put some fat on those skinny bones of yours.”
It was a testament to the force of her personality that I obediently said,“Yes, ma’am,” and dug in.
Chase was shaking with laughter, until his aunt slammed a plate in front of him as well, and grunted,“Eat! I don’t like the sight of you, either. You’ve lost weight.”
“No, I haven’t,” said Chase.
“Yes, you have,” she said, and grabbed his face with one hand, digging her fingers into his cheeks and puffing up his lips. “Right here. These lines weren’t there last time you came to visit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Chase mumbled.
Aunt Ariadne let go of Chase’s face and turned a kindling eye on me. “You have to feed him. Fatten him up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated.
She grunted with approval, and for the next half hour or so, watched us both eat, while Martha regaled us with an extensive report of everything that had happened to her in the last two weeks, which wasn’t all that interesting or entertaining. But at least we were going to escape this place with our lives. I mean, Aunt Ariadne wasn’t going to feed us only to kill us off later, was she? And we had one thing going for us: neither of us was a celebrity. Thank God.
Chapter 11
On our way back to Hampton Cove, Chase was quiet, which wasn’t surprising, given the enormous pile of hash browns his aunt had made him devour. Luckily she’d gone easier on me, and after I’d eaten one plate, hadn’t insisted I eat a second one, like she’d done with Chase.
“Your mom seemed fine,” I finally said, deciding to break the silence.