Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies
Page 62

Both women were watching me as I hung up the phone. I forced another smile. I seemed to be doing that a lot today. “Mason’s on his way home, and he’s taking me out to dinner. Isn’t that wonderful?” My voice broke and I pushed away from the table, the chair scraping the floor, and stood. I couldn’t pretend anymore. I needed to do something productive—now—and this was currently a dead end.
“That sounds lovely,” Maeve said, looking distraught herself.
“I think I’m gonna go see Carter Hale.”
Maeve and Neely Kate both eyed me as if I were about to sprout horns.
“That’s a good idea,” Neely Kate finally said, standing and picking up her plate. “I’d like to drop in on Carter Hale myself.” Her next words caught me off guard. “Would you be willing to teach me how to make your famous white bread?” she asked, looking at Maeve. “Tonight?”
Maeve’s despair seemed to lift a little. “Of course. Why don’t you come over for dinner? We can make it a girls’ night.”
Neely Kate smiled. “Sounds fun.”
I headed for the door, and Maeve called out, “Why don’t you leave Muffy here while you run your errands? She can keep me company.”
“Thanks. Carter might not appreciate having her in his office. I can take her to mine, but I’m not sure if Bruce Wayne is back yet.” Not to mention he probably wasn’t too eager to see me. “Say, do you know where Violet was this morning?”
Maeve shook her head. “No, she didn’t mention it, and neither did Anna.” Her eyes lit up. “Anna’s such a sweet girl. I’m glad your sister hired her. She’s had a hard life.”
“Really?” I asked. “She barely talks to me.” Maybe because she was always too busy glaring at me.
“If you’d like, you can leave Muffy here while you and Mason go on your date. She can either spend the night, or you can pick her up before you go home. I can make a fresh batch of Muffy’s biscuits.”
“Okay …” I looked down at Muffy, who almost looked like she was grinning in anticipation. Maeve had recently begun baking her doggie treats that seemed to make her existing gas problem even worse. But since Maeve loved to make them and Muffy loved eating them, I didn’t have the heart to tell either of them no. I bent down and rubbed her head. “I’m gonna leave you with Maeve tonight, but I’ll come get you tomorrow.”
She jumped up and licked my cheek in response.
Neely Kate and I said our goodbyes and headed out to my truck. Letting it run for a moment, I grabbed my burner phone from my purse. Still nothing. Maybe Jed had sent them the wrong number. I texted him my concern, and he answered back within seconds.
I know how to text a damn phone number.
Somebody was crabby today.
“Why are you frowning?” Neely Kate asked.
“I still haven’t heard from J.R.”
“It’s J.R. You know he’s gonna string you along and make you suffer.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
“Besides, you don’t want it to happen tonight, do you? Not if you and Mason are goin’ out.”
“True.” But the sooner this meeting happened, the better.
“Where’s Mason taking you?”
“Jaspers.”
She smiled, but it looked wobbly. “The last time I was there I barfed all over Samantha Jo Wheaten’s ex-husband.”
“That’s a sight I’m not likely to forget anytime soon.” It was also the night Mason had punched Joe. Maybe going there wasn’t such a good idea.
“My life was so different then.” Her voice was so quiet it could have floated away on a cloud.
“Neely Kate. Call Ronnie. Please. You miss him something fierce, and I know he’s missin’ you.”
She sucked in her bottom lip. “I was thinkin’ about seein’ if I could stay with Maeve tonight.” She gave me a wink. “Give you and Mason some privacy.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Her eyes glistened with held-back tears, but she forced a grin. “I know. But I really do want to learn how to make Maeve’s bread.”
“I thought your granny made white bread.”
“She does, but Maeve’s is different.” There was a hint of desperation in her words, and I sensed she needed to soak up some of Maeve’s nurturing.
“You know, now that I think on it, it’s a great idea for you to stay at Maeve’s. Then Mason and I can have sex on the kitchen table again.”
She scrunched her eyes closed. “I can live without that visual.”
“Ha!” I shot her an ornery look. “If you really do make bread, be sure to give me one of those loaves.”
“Deal, but if you eat too much of it, the table’s liable to collapse from all the weight.”
“Neely Kate!”
We drove downtown, and I parked outside of my office, but the closed sign was in the window. Given where I stood with Bruce Wayne right now, I wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. I got out of the truck, and someone with black hair and purple streaks caught my eye down the street.
It was Kate. She was walking toward the dry cleaners—wearing a dress and nice boots, no less. Why was she wearing something nicer than usual, and where was she headed on foot?
“Why do I keep seein’ Kate downtown?” I said absently.