“You mean he’s done this before?” asked Vesta.
“Oh, sure. When I was the Gazette’s resident Gabi, about twenty years ago, he neglected to tell me there was a second and even a third Gabi until I was three months into the job. All that time I assumed he did double duty as editor and advice columnist, when all the while he’d been paying two of my best friends to pick up the slack since I couldn’t possibly answer all the letters myself.”
“He did the same with us,” Vesta grumbled, though she decided not to mention the fact that Scarlett wasn’t exactly her best friend. Quite the opposite.
“Please come in,” said Miss Gray with a gesture of the hand, and walked them into a spacious living room, dominated by the same white theme: white marble floors, white leather couches, white carpets, white furniture—there was even a white baby grand piano, sheet music placed for whoever liked to tickle the ivory in Miss Gray’s house.
“Do you play?” asked Scarlett, never one to refrain from sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.
“No, but my niece does,” said Miss Gray, then gestured to the couch and both women took a seat while their hostess walked over to the piano and lightly touched the keys. “Do you know why I invited you here?”
“No, I don’t,” said Vesta.
“I assumed it had something to do with the column,” said Scarlett as she rubbed her ankle.
“Why do you insist on wearing those heels?” said Vesta, giving her fellow Gabi a critical look. “You’ll break your ankles one of these days.”
“Oh, shut up,” snapped Scarlett. “Coming from someone who insists on looking like a nurse that’s rich.”
“I don’t look like a nurse,” said Vesta.
“Yes, you do, with your nurse’s shoes and that white tracksuit you always wear.”
“What white tracksuit? I don’t wear a white tracksuit.”
“Ladies, ladies,” said Miss Gray, taking a seat across from them. “I didn’t invite you here to squabble.”
“I’m sorry,” said Vesta. “It’s just that Scarlett and I aren’t exactly best friends.”
“No, Dan told me,” said the woman.
“He did?” asked Scarlett, sounding as surprised as Vesta was feeling.
“Looks like Dan told you a lot of things.”
“Dan and I go way back,” said Miss Gray with a smile. “In fact I was his first advice columnist. But that’s not why I invited you. The reason you’re both here is because—”
Suddenly a piercing scream sounded from upstairs, and quick as a flash Miss Gray was on her feet, hurrying to the door with an alacrity and speed belying her age.
Vesta and Scarlett hurried after her, curious what could have caused such a horrific scream.
They arrived in the doorway just in time to see a young woman staggering down the stairs. She was crying, looking distraught, and her hands were covered in blood.
“I killed him!” she wailed. “I killed Kirk, Auntie Allison. He’s dead!”
Chapter Three
“Listen to this,” said Odelia. “’Of course you shouldn’t worry that each time you go out on a date with your boyfriend something comes up. Maybe next time simply surprise him, Anxious Heart’” She looked up with a frown. “What do you think? Is Gabi right?”
“Of course she’s right,” said Odelia’s mother, who was intently gazing at a spot on the wall. It could have been tomato juice or a dead fly but whatever it was, it had no right to be there.
“You do? You don’t think the fact that we haven’t had a normal dinner date is weird?”
“Dear Gabi seems like a very sensible person. In fact she gave me some very good advice the other day.”
“Wait, you sent a letter to Gabi, too?”
They were in her mother’s kitchen, since Odelia had wanted to ask Marge’s advice about Gabi’s answer to her heart’s cry.
“I sent her a message through the Gazette website’s contact form. Completely anonymous, of course. Technology is wonderful. You can send messages and no one will know you posted them.”
Odelia decided not to mention that if Dan wanted to know he could very easily find out who’d sent him the message, by tracing the IP address. “So what did you ask?”
“Oh, just something I’ve been wondering about for a long time.”
“Like what, exactly?” It wasn’t her mother’s habit to beat about the bush like this, so she had a feeling it might be something big. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant again.”
Marge arched an eyebrow as she rubbed at the suspicious spot with a damp dishrag. “I might be,” she said mysteriously. “Wouldn’t you like to have a little brother or sister?”
Odelia stared at her mother. “No way!”
Marge laughed. “No way sounds about right. No way am I going to get busy with diapers and midnight nursing again.”
Odelia heaved a sigh of relief, which had her mother dart a disapproving glance in her direction. “No disrespect, Mom, but you and Dad are probably past the baby stage by now.”
“Mh,” said her mother, clearly not in absolute agreement.
“So what did you ask Dan’s new oracle?”
“Well, you know how your father and I have been saving up for that trip to Europe?”
“Uh-huh.” Mom and Dad had been saving for years. The idea had been to go traveling as soon as Mom retired, which was still a couple of years off.
“Well, I’ve been thinking of taking that trip now, instead of waiting until we’re too old.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” she said. “So what did Gabi say?”
“She said I should totally go for it,” said Marge, nodding. “Remind me to tell your dad to repaint the kitchen. I never noticed before how dirty these walls have become.”
“Do you have enough money saved?”
“Oh, sure. It’s not just the money for the trip, but we could also take the money we were saving to remodel the kitchen. It should pay for three weeks in Europe. London, Paris, Amsterdam, Rome, Venice…” She smiled as she spoke the words.
Mom and Dad had spent a summer backpacking through Europe when they’d just graduated from college. They’d been planning to take the trip with friends, but both Mom’s best friend and Dad’s best friend had bailed on them at the last minute, and so they’d decided to go together instead. It was during this trip that they’d felt the spark, and by the time they returned stateside they’d been engaged to be married. Nine months later Odelia had been born and they’d been talking about going back to Europe ever since, only this time to stay in some nice hotels instead of youth hostels, and dine in some of the fancier restaurants instead of picnicking by the side of the road.
“I’d say go for it, Mom,” said Odelia. “In fact I don’t know what took you so long.”
“Well, it’s not like your dad can take time off at the drop of a hat,” said Mom. “And I have the library to consider.”
“Marcie can take care of the library, and I’m sure Dad will find a replacement.”
Mom nodded and took a seat at the table. “So are you going to ask Gabi what’s really on your mind? Are you going to ask her advice about finally picking a wedding date?”
“I might,” said Odelia carefully. She and her boyfriend Chase had gotten engaged months before, but had never really talked about a timetable for the wedding, figuring they had plenty of time to figure things out.
“What’s holding you back, exactly?” asked Mom with a look of concern. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, of course not. I love Chase, and I want to get married. It’s just that…”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know. The topic hasn’t come up since he first asked me.”
“He did ask you in a strange way, if I remember correctly.”
“He did.” She smiled at the recollection. They’d been in England at the time, at the invitation of Prince Dante and his wife Tessa, who was being targeted by an unknown assailant. There had been a tense moment at some point where Tessa had been under attack. Shots were fired and Chase and Odelia ducked for cover. It was at this moment that Chase had proposed, and Odelia said yes, fearing their final hour had struck.