Three Bedrooms, One Corpse - By Charlaine Harris Page 0,42
and observed,” I said hesitantly, “that lots of people aren’t that way. They keep on loving, no matter what the hurt or cost.”
“No self-respect. That’s what I believe,” my mother said crisply. She stared out her window for a moment, at the bare branches of the oak tree outside, which made a bleak abstract pattern against the gray sky. “Poor Idella,” she said, and a tear oozed down her cheek. “She was worth ten Tonia Lees, and she had children. She’d done so much for herself since her husband left her. I’d gotten pretty fond of her without ever getting really close to her.” Mother looked back at me. Our eyes met. “She must have been so frightened.” Then she shook herself. “I’ll have Eileen call Emily Kaye to find out if Idella’d actually gotten over there with your counteroffer, honey. The police should let us have the papers in her car, soon. We can get on with the house sale, with Eileen or me taking Idella’s part. I’ll let you know.”
I hadn’t been worried about it at all. “Thanks,” I said, trying to look relieved. “I think I’ll go home now.” But I turned at her office door to say, “You know, I’ll bet money that Donnie doesn’t really know anything at all. If he does get killed, it’ll be over absolutely nothing.”
I was really glad I hadn’t agreed to meet Martin tonight. I needed a little time to get over this horror. Driving home, I felt the impulse to call him nonetheless. But I shook my head. No telling what he was doing. Still trying to inspire Pan-Am Agra executives, eating supper with a client, working in his motel room on important papers. I hated him to find out how lonely I was, so soon.
I kept thinking about Idella, her children, her death from love.
Chapter Nine
The NEXT MORNING my best friend, Amina Day—now Amina Day Price—called me. I’d just pulled on my blue jeans, and I lay across the bed on my stomach to grab the phone.
“Hi, it’s me!”
“Amina,” I said happily, feeling my mouth break into a smile, “how are you?”
“Honey, I’m pregnant!”
“Ohmigod!”
“Yes! Really, really. The ring in the tube turned the right color this morning, and I lost my breakfast, too. So I’m home lying down.”
“Amina, I can’t believe it. What does Hugh say?”
“He’s just thrilled. He’s ready to go out now and buy a car seat and a crib. I told him he better wait a while, my mother always told me it was bad luck to start getting ready too soon.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“No, I have an appointment for next week with the obstetrician all the wives of Hugh’s partners go to.”
Hugh is an up-and-coming lawyer in Houston.
“I’m so glad for you,” I told her honestly.
We talked for a while. Or, rather, I listened while Amina talked to me about the baby and what she wanted and didn’t want for this exceptional infant.
“So what’s new with you?” she asked finally.
“Well... I’m seeing someone.”
“Not the minister?”
“No, not anymore. This man—Martin—he’s the new plant manager at Pan-Am Agra.”
“Wo-wo. How old is he?”
“Older.”
“Rich?”
“Well-to-do.”
“Of course, that doesn’t make any difference anymore, since you inherited all that loot.”
“No, but it’s nice anyway. He likes having money.”
“Tell me all!”
“Well, his name is Martin Bartell, he’s forty-five, he has white hair but his eyebrows are black ...”
“Sexy!”
“Yes, very ... he’s tough, strong, intelligent, and .. . ruthless. You wouldn’t want to try to bullshit him.”
“These are not Boy Scout attributes.”
“You know, you’re right,” I said thoughtfully. “He’s definitely not a Boy Scout type. More of a street fighter.”
“I hope he’s not too tough for you.”
“No matter what he is,” I confessed, “this is the worst I’ve ever had it. I’m scared to death. I couldn’t stay away from him if he were on fire.”
“Oh, wow. You do have it bad. I hope he’s worthy of this. This sounds like a ‘love at first sight’ thing.”
“Yes, the first time I’ve ever experienced it. And, I hope, the last. It’s awful.”
“I’ve never had it like that,” Amina said. “So what else is happening?” It wasn’t like Amina to change the subject. Could she be a bit envious?
But I filled her in on Tonia Lee’s murder and the resultant confusion. Then I told her about Susu Hunter’s husband and his strange secret persona as the House Hunter.
“Oh, I’m like that to a lesser extent,” Amina said instantly. “It’s not so weird.”
“You just like to look at houses?”
“Sure, don’t you? I get a tingle