looks out the back window. “It is a car like his, but I didn’t see the driver.”
“I’m probably just being paranoid. I hope this doesn’t mean he’s going to start haunting my dreams.”
She laughs, and the sound improves my mood by a factor of about a hundred. “Me too.”
The undercarriage of the Bugatti scrapes the concrete when I turn into Elva’s drive. An old Victorian sits in the middle of the property like it’s part of the landscape. The house is beautiful, if a little worse for wear. I cut the engine and stare up at several bird’s nests nestled in the gables across the front porch. White paint flakes off the exterior like the place is shedding its winter coat. And weedy, overgrown flowerbeds wreath the home like a jeweled necklace that’s seen better days. It looks like Elva may have fallen upon hard times.
Tiger’s out of the vehicle and halfway to the porch before I get out of the car. Excitement billows from her like a superhero cape, which I’m coming to realize is appropriate for her. I jog to catch up with her. “Ever heard of playing hard to get?”
“Nope.” She takes the front steps two at a time. “In this, I’m the easiest girl in town.”
I laugh because this woman’s a lot of things, but easy isn’t one of them. “I’d like to meet that girl.”
She reaches past me to ring the bell. “You would.”
Yes. Yes, I would. But before I can convey my current thoughts, the door opens and a fiftyish woman, with watery blue eyes that look huge in her slender face, greets us.
“Tiger?” She glances down the street then back to the woman next to me. “What can I do for you, dear?”
“Hi, Maxine, is Miss Elva in?”
“Um … yes.”
Tiger shoots me a look. “Can we see her?”
Maxine’s gaze slides to me and her eyes get even bigger. “Oh, Cash King.” It’s said like an unwelcome surprise. “I didn’t see you standing there.”
Man, this trip has not been good for my ego. “Good morning, Maxine. How’s Tubbs?”
Her entire face transforms at the mention of her son. “Just fine. He and his wife live down in Dallas with my two precious grandbabies. He’s a pastor now, you know.”
I do the best I can to hide my shock. Tubbs Monroe was quite possibly the grossest, most vulgar guy I’ve ever known, and I play in the NFL. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah. The Lord got ahold of that boy and turned his life around.”
“Well, isn’t that somethin’. Tell him I said hi.”
“Um, Maxine …” Tiger waves her hands in the air.
“Oh, Lordy, yes, y’all come on in.” She steps aside and we enter. The place looks like a museum. The smell of furniture polish, potpourri, and the tiniest hint of mildew hangs in the air like those hanging basket things my mom keeps on her front porch. She ushers us into a parlor. “Miss Elva is just finishing her breakfast. She’ll be with you in just a moment. Can I get y’all some coffee?”
“No, thank you,” Tiger answers before I can speak.
“Well, okay then. I’ll be right back.”
I carefully sit on a dainty, frilly piece of furniture that I’m not sure will hold me. “Next time, let me answer for myself. I could use another cup of coffee.”
She snorts and keeps her attention on the door. “You don’t need the caffeine. I just saved that finely tuned machine you call a body. You’re welcome.” Even though her tone is light, a small wrinkle sits between her brows.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure.” Her hair swishes over her shoulder when she finally gives me her attention. “Did she seem nervous to you?”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spoken to Maxine Monroe in twelve years.”
She pinches her lower lip as she paces the carpet in front of me. “You didn’t see how she kept looking down the street when she opened the door?”
“Now that you mention it, I did, but I thought it was because she was waiting on a delivery.”
She glances from the door to me. “Something’s going on.”
“Okay, slow down there, Sherlock.” I stand and block her way. “I like excited Tiger better than paranoid Tiger.”
She shakes her hands out and laughs. “You’re right.”
The door opens, and a small woman in a housecoat and slippers shuffles into the room followed by an old gray terrier. Unlike Maxine, who was full of pent-up energy, Elva looks like a piece of clothing that’s been washed in hot water and shrunk to half its