Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,33
you, Tori.” To Beth he said, “What room are you in?”
“What room am I in?”
“That’s what I asked.”
For a moment there was nothing. And then, “Oh, c’mon now, Milo . . . you remember.”
She stared at Milo, her heart unwilling to consider the implication of the woman’s words. Or the way they resurrected the sound of Leona’s voice in her head.
“No,” he stammered, his face suddenly crimson. “I met you at the restaurant both nights.”
“Oh. Okay, Milo.” A flirty laugh escaped from the phone in much the same manner as an open hand to Tori’s face. “I’m in 3B.”
“Okay. I’ll be right there.”
The sudden yet audible smile in the woman’s voice sent a shiver down Tori’s spine, the words that followed kicking off a wave of nausea that was virtually impossible to ignore. “And Milo? I’ll be waiting for you.”
Chapter 12
Tori shielded her eyes from the sun and studied the faces of the women who’d become her closest friends over the past year—women who had helped her move forward in a life that was as close to perfect as anyone could ever hope to have.
In fact, each and every member of the Sweet Briar Ladies Society Sewing Circle had taught her something.
Rose had taught her what it meant to soldier on despite an aging process that had its own agenda at times.
Debbie had taught her the reality that dreams—no matter how big or how many—could happen if you simply put your mind to it. Owning her own bakery while excelling at her marriage and motherhood was proof of that.
Beatrice had reinforced the importance of not judging a book by its cover. The nanny, although painfully shy, had a heart of gold and some great ideas if one only gave her a chance.
Melissa had shown her that mothering went far beyond kissing boo-boos and getting dinner on the table by six every night, her constant encouragement of each of her seven children a joy to witness.
Georgina had taught her about resilience in the wake of humiliation, her positive spirit despite her former husband’s murder charge nothing short of commendable.
Margaret Louise had taught her about loyalty in a way no one ever had, the woman’s steadfast and unconditional friendship a rarity in a world where everyone seemed to look out for themselves and their best interests.
Leona had taught her the ways of the south—or, rather, the ways of the south according to Leona Elkin. The woman’s on again, off again ornery demeanor simply served as tangible proof that good things came in the most interesting of packages.
Even Dixie had taught her a few things, most noticeably the fact that everyone needed to feel important no matter how young or old they might be.
“Earth to Victoria, earth to Victoria, come in Victoria.”
The sound of her name jolted her back to the here and now—a here and now that had her sitting at one of the bakery’s outdoor tables alongside the rest of the sewing circle.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said by way of a smile at Margaret Louise, the woman’s plump form decked out in one of her trademark polyester warm-up suits, this one in lavender. “Did you say something?”
“I asked if Chief Dallas has paid you another visit.”
“Um, no. Not yet.” Shaking her thoughts into focus, she looked around at her friends. “Has he come to see anyone else?”
All but two hands shot up—hers and Georgina’s.
Her mouth gaped open. “And?”
“He asked about the party and about the things that were said regarding Ashley. You know, the same sorts of things he asked you,” Debbie said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “He talked to Caroline Rowen and Samantha Smith, too.”
“Did you tell him we were just irritated at Ashley’s attitude?”
“We all did, dear. Though I’m not sure what good it’s done.” Leona looked down at the blueberry scone on her plate then pushed it aside. “I don’t know why I order these things.”
“Maybe because they look delicious?” Debbie shook her head, a sparkle in her eye belying the exaggerated hurt in her voice. “Maybe because I made them from scratch while you and the rest of Sweet Briar were catching a few extra hours of beauty rest?”
“Some of us don’t need sleep to achieve that distinction. We simply are.”
Rose snorted from her spot across the table. “Leona, why don’t you wish in one hand, spit in the other, and see which ones gets full faster.”
Tori laughed out loud. “Excuse me? What did you just say, Rose?”