Death Waxed Over - Tim Myers [49]
We walked outside and down the front promenade toward Millie’s place. The wind was gusting slightly, just enough to raise some of the flags displayed in front of the shops. I’d found a flag place going out of business and had bought several themed flags for my tenants. There was a single white candle on a field of red in front of my shop, while Millie’s had a coffee cup, Sanora’s pottery sported a vase and Suzanne Gladstone’s antique shop had a rocking chair on it. Heather’s had been a problem, but I’d finally settled on a brightly colored rainbow for her. She’d been delighted with the choice, and I had to admit, the banners waving in the wind did give all of River’s Edge more of a whimsical look. I’d thought about it for some time before making any changes to my late Great-Aunt Belle’s place, but in the end I was the one responsible for how the complex looked, and if something would help in any way, I was all for it as long as I could afford it.
If Mrs. Jorgenson noticed the banners, or anything else that morning, she didn’t say.
“What would you like?” Millie asked Mrs. Jorgenson when we walked into the cafe.
“Something more mundane than your exotic choices,” she said, studying the menu.
“I’ll take care of this,” I said. “Why don’t you find us a table and I’ll be right with you.”
Mrs. Jorgenson found a spot away from the few customers already there. She was serious about keeping our conversation private.
Millie looked expectantly at me, so I ordered two plain coffees. As she filled the order, she said, “She’s lovely, Harrison, honestly she is, but I think you can do better. She’s awfully old for you, isn’t she?”
I whispered, “This isn’t a date, you nit. That’s Mrs. Jorgenson.”
Millie had heard all about the craft queen benefactress. “So that’s Mrs. J in the flesh. I take it you’ve managed to bring her back into your fold?”
“I have no idea. That’s why we’re here.”
Millie added a small plate and put two biscotti on it.
“Hey, I didn’t order these.”
“They’re on the house. Maybe they’ll loosen her up.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than that,” I whispered. I carried the coffees and cookies to the table and slid one mug in front of Mrs. Jorgenson. She looked at the plate for a moment, then said, “I didn’t ask for this.”
“It’s on the house,” I said.
Still staring at the plate, she said, “I don’t approve of dessert.”
“I do,” I said. “So it’s no problem. I’ll eat them both. Now what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Blunt, direct and to the point. I see this ordeal hasn’t changed your basic personality traits.”
“Mrs. Jorgenson, I’ve tried to be charming with you. It didn’t work, remember? Seriously, though, I would like to know why you’re here, especially after your man Jeeves slammed the door in my face.”
Was that the crack of a smile I saw? I couldn’t be certain; it had vanished too quickly. She said, “His name’s Henderson, actually, and he’s quite important to me.”
“I’m happy for you both. I know one thing: he certainly keeps the riffraff away. I just didn’t realize that included me.”
Mrs. Jorgenson frowned at me, then at her coffee, then back at me. “I knew this was going to be difficult. However, I didn’t realize you’d be exacerbating the situation.”
She was right. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be good. I promise.”
She took a sip of her coffee, smiled in a surprised way, then said, “First of all, I believe I owe you an apology.”
“I owe you one too, so I guess that makes us even.”
She raised an eyebrow pointedly, then said, “Would you please let me finish?”
I nodded, and somehow managed to keep my mouth shut.
She continued, “I never should have reacted the way I did with you. Was I frustrated that the sale of those buildings was scuttled because of that woman’s stubbornness? Absolutely. She was never supposed to have a chance to purchase that property in the first place. I’d put a preemptive bid with the previous owner, but it appeared that Mrs. Barnett was more persuasive than I was with him. But in all honesty, I wasn’t even inconvenienced by her