Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,80
shoes. I was only in mine. And mine have been a little uncertain as of late.”
He pulled his left arm down and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I hope you know that despite my desire to revisit some fond memories and to spend a little time catching up with Beth, I never had any desire to rekindle our past relationship. I’d be a fool—an even bigger one than I’ve been these last few days—to ever let you go.”
She nestled into the crook of his arm as he continued, his chin bobbing up and down on the top of her head as he spoke. “I, too, have seen what’s out there. I’ve dated women like Beth. I married Celia only to stumble around aimlessly after her death. And after all those experiences, I can truly say I found the proverbial diamond in the rough.”
Blinking against the tears his words created, she snuggled still closer, the warmth of his nearness giving her the courage to speak. “Then I guess we’re meant to be because I, too, found a diamond.”
His face paled. “You did?”
Shifting back, she smiled up at him. “Of course I did. I found you, didn’t I?”
“I guess you did.”
She lifted her lips to meet his, the feel of his skin against hers giving her the courage to say what still needed to be said. “Milo?”
“Mmmm?”
“Beth asked me to tell you that she’s back at the inn for the night. In case you—in case you’d like to talk to her.”
He pushed off the couch then reached for her hand, tugging her upward and toward the kitchen. “That’s great, but no. I’ve seen and heard enough of Beth Samuelson for a lifetime. It’s best if she gets back to focusing completely on her career.”
Her career.
She followed him down the hallway and into the kitchen, her feet guided forward by the lingering smell of a beef stew that had gone uneaten. “Any chance I could get a bowl?”
“Of stew?”
“Sure. Seems a shame to let it go to waste seeing as how it’s your favorite and all.”
Grabbing two bowls from the pantry, he made his way over to the Crock-Pot. “Can I let you in on a little secret?”
“Of course.” She watched as he lifted the lid from the Crock-Pot and spooned its contents into each of the ceramic bowls he’d set on the counter.
“Beef stew isn’t my favorite. Never was.”
She took the bowl from his outstretched hand and carried it over to the table with Milo close on her heels. “Then why did she say it was?”
“Because it’s the only thing she knew how to make and she never inquired otherwise.”
“Oh. I see.” They sat across from one another at the Formica table, Beth’s sticky notes still scattered here and there. “Well, at least she could draw.”
Milo paused his stew-laden spoon just shy of his mouth. “Draw?”
She nodded. “That’s a talent few people have.”
He popped the stew into his mouth and swallowed. “Including Beth.”
“I don’t understand.”
Setting his spoon beside his bowl he reached for the pink sticky note that had claimed Tori’s attention less than three hours earlier, the runway of stick people bringing a familiar smile to her face. “This is about the extent of Beth’s drawing ability. And even this is an improvement from what she could do when I knew her.”
She stared at Milo. “But those dresses she designed. They’re mind-blowing.”
He tossed the crude drawing onto the table and reached for his spoon once again. “You mean those six dresses she carried around in that portfolio? She didn’t draw them. She got them from someone else.”
“Wait. She told me she drew them.”
“Okay, well then perhaps I can take a little comfort in knowing it wasn’t just me, after all. Maybe Beth lies to everyone.”
“No. There must be some mistake. She said she drew them.”
Milo jerked his head toward the pink sticky note. “That, she drew. Those dresses, she didn’t. Trust me on this.”
Her gaze fell on the six little stick people lined along a makeshift stage, their triangular dresses ill-fitting at best.
Six people.
Six dresses.
She heard the gasp as it left her lips, felt the splatter of stew on her skin as her spoon crash-landed in the middle of her bowl, saw the concern on Milo’s face as he reached for her across the table. “Tori? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Oh my God! I know who did it. I know who killed Ashley Lawson.”
Chapter 30
She ran down the hallway and into Milo’s bedroom, the echo of his footsteps