Sweet Tibby Mack. Roz Fox Denny
Justine let the screen slam behind her as she thrust a tray of hors d’oeuvres into Cicely’s bejeweled hands. “Oh,” she said, catching hold of the younger woman’s fingers. “Those rings are pretty. And matching earrings.” She touched the hoops. “Dear me, Winnie, I hope someone warned her to put her jewelry in a safe place tonight.”
Cicely snatched her fingers back so fast she almost dropped the tray. “Safe? Safe from what?” Her eyes glazed a little.
Justine pursed her lips as she rescued the tray and made room for her quiche puffs on the shelf below Winnie’s salad. “Pack rats, lovey.” She closed the fridge door decisively. “Yale had quite a time—the little thieves. Clever they are. Carted away an expensive watch, a ring and one money clip that I know of. But Yale was so forgetful. You’ll be fine as long as you remember to keep everything shiny put away.”
The women pressed close to Cicely, all nodding and smiling.
Winnie snapped her fingers. “I believe this welcoming mission has served its purpose. Come, ladies, we don’t want to intrude. Cole will show up soon.”
“I’m sure he will,” said Justine. “I passed him going into the store. In addition to the chives I needed, I found the item you requested, Winnie.” Justine discreetly tucked a small white card into Winnie’s pocket. Two pair of twinkling eyes met.
Cicely teetered beneath the arch as the women started for the front door. She twisted her bracelets nervously, peering into shadowy corners. “Please, will you wait a minute? I just remembered a prior engagement at home. Let me leave Cole a note. Then I’ll walk with you to my car.
“You’re not staying?” Winnie pretended shock. The others tsked softly until their leader spoke again. “Well, if you must go, you must. Poor Cole will be so disappointed. I vote we leave him the food to compensate.”
Everyone agreed it was only fair.
THE MINUTE COLE STEPPED into Tibby’s store, he saw the roses he’d supposedly sent. The bouquet was gaudy in his estimation. Not at all like what he’d choose. Small buds in soft pink would be his preference.
Bending to inspect the flowers more closely, Cole jumped back when a menacing growl raised the hair on the back of his neck. A dog—a humungous beast—trotted around the corner of the counter, teeth bared.
“Good boy. Where’d you come from?” Cole knelt down slowly and stretched out a hand. He liked animals, although he’d never been in a position to own one. Another thing he’d do if he sank roots in Yaqui Springs—get an Irish setter.
The dog edged closer and sniffed. Cole scratched him between the sleek pointed ears. A pink tongue lapped at his wrist, and the long curved tail wagged.
Tibby backed out of her storeroom, arms laden with jars of honey. Seeing Cole making overtures to her dog sent a stab of hunger to her heart and a blast of fire to her cheeks. “Exterminator,” she hissed, “fine guard dog you are. Bring a burglar in and show him the silver.”
“This bruiser is yours?” Cole failed to conceal his surprise.
“Yes. I plan to teach him to attack on command. Come here,” she ordered, and was greatly relieved when the dog left Cole’s side to flop at her feet, his nose tucked between his paws.
“The store is closed. I assumed Justine would lock up on her way out. But maybe she saw you heading this way. I usually try to accommodate residents. If you don’t mind, I’ll shelve these jars while you find what you need.”
“I came about the roses.”
Tibby stammered slightly. “Oh. A-and I didn’t even thank you. Um, I guess we both flew off the handle this morning. The bouquet is gorgeous, Cole. Really, though, I never meant for you to drive all the way to Brawley for your groceries.”
Every line and feature of her expressive face softened when she gazed at those damned flowers. Cole wished he had ordered them, the change in her was so radical. And…she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “I, ah, didn’t send the roses.”
He glanced away from the embarrassment that quickly replaced the pleasure in her eyes. “The first I heard of them was from Cicely. She’s upset. Do you mind if I take a look at the card?”
“Help yourself. But…I don’t understand. If you didn’t send them, who did? And why would anyone use your name?”
“I don’t know. But the florist does.”
“They came from Brawley.” Visibly shaken, Tibby thumped the jars of honey down on the counter.
Cole fingered the empty pick centered in the bouquet. “Where’s the card?”
“There, beside the vase.”
He lifted the vase and peered underneath. “It doesn’t seem to be here. Did you put it in your pocket?”
“Why would I, for goodness’ sake? It’s not as if I had romantic illusions or anything. Look on the floor. Maybe it blew off when your girlfriend flounced out. What have you done with her? I thought you said you were cooking dinner.”
Cole felt his ears grow warm. “Eating takes second place to clearing up this mess. Cicely’s sort of…well, she’s, ah, jealous.” The last he muttered as he dropped to his knees to search the floor.
Tibby smothered a grin. “I’m sure that feeds your ego.
“Are you laughing?” Cole glanced up from his undignified position.
Tibby couldn’t hold the laughter in. “No…oo…ooo.”
“Dammit, if this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny.” He scrambled up. “A lady I’m trying to impress thinks I sent you roses.”
Tibby curbed her mirth. “You can’t believe I’d send flowers to myself. Oh, and I suppose I have a crystal ball to tell me precisely when your movie queen would waltzin here this afternoon. Don’t flatter yourself, O’Donnell.”
“Then help me find that card so I can call the florist and clear this up once and for all.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll turn out my pockets while you search through the trash. I use that five-gallon ice-cream bucket behind the counter.”
“Is this the only rubbish you have?” Cole asked a few minutes later, after he’d checked every envelope and torn receipt in the round cardboard barrel.
Tibby swept one hand toward the coffee bar and another toward the back room. “Two more trash cans, plus the dumpster at the end of the parking lot. I’d help, but I wouldn’t want you saying I found it and kept it from you. I’m taking my dog home to feed while you dig around. Have at it!”
She showed up again just as Cole emerged, looking slightly unkempt. “No luck?” she asked, truly surprised to see he was empty-handed. “Well, I wonder what happened to the dumb thing. I swear it was right beside the vase. I figured it’d caught on something and made its way into the trash.”
Stepping around him, she yanked open one of the drawers behind the counter. There lay the map she’d held when his girlfriend took off like a shot. Tibby shook it, but nothing fell out. Perplexed, she said, “Why would anyone spend that kind of money playing a practical joke? And who, for goodness’ sake?”
“Beats me.” Cole cast a darkly troubled glance out the window. “I guess I’d better get on home. Maybe I’ll buy a second bottle of wine. Red, if you have it.”
“Sure. Top shelf, last row.” Tibby watched him choose one. “If the card appears, I’ll tuck it in your front screen. Otherwise I’ll go through the Brawley phone book I have at home and find the number.” She gave him change and bagged his purchase. “I do feel bad, Cole.”
“Thanks. It’s s a puzzle, and I’m stumped. I’m a fan of mysteries and usually figure out whodunnit way before the end.”