Goose in the Pond - Earlene Fowler [59]
“You’re late,” she said, peering up at my plastic kitchen clock.
“That clock’s five minutes fast,” I mumbled, looking around the pine kitchen table. Sam and Rita’s chairs were empty. “Where’s the rest of the crew?” I dished up some grits, doctored them with salt and butter, and reached for the scrambled eggs.
Dove laid a plate of crisp bacon in front of me and a bowl of oatmeal with fresh strawberries in front of Gabe. “Rita get up before ten o’clock?” Dove waved her metal spatula in the direction of the guest room. “She’s just like her mother. Those Caldicotts always did think God made the sun raise and fall just so they’d know when to get up and go shopping.”
Gabe looked at me and winked. “Where’s Sam?” I asked. Gabe’s face turned sober as he picked up one of Dove’s huge baking-powder biscuits. He passed the plate to me.
“Left early,” Dove said, sitting down next to Gabe, a big smile on her face. “Said he had to catch the early waves down by Morro Rock. Apparently he heard through the grapevine that all the chicks surf the north side of the rock.” She cackled. “My, he’s a nice young man. Helped me pound out the dough for my biscuits early this morning. Has a marvelous singing voice. I’m going to try to get him to join the church choir.”
“He won’t be here long enough for that,” Gabe said succinctly.
Dove raised her eyebrows and didn’t comment. “What’re you doing today, honeybun?”
I bit into a thickly buttered biscuit and chewed before answering. “Going to clean up some last details about the festival. Give the museum one last going over. And I’m having lunch with Elvia and her mom.”
“How is Sofia? That heart spell must have ’bout scared her to pieces.”
“Doing great, Elvia says. Doctor says it was just stress. Elvia and the brothers are thinking about buying her a treadmill, but they’re sure she won’t use it. Rafael and Brenda just got back from Hawaii and brought her some fresh pineapple, so she’s making atole.”
Gabe’s eyes brightened. “My grandmother used to make that whenever we visited her in Mexico. Bring me some, okay?”
“Sure.” I turned back to Dove. “Now, about you and Garnet . . .”
Dove picked up her plate and stood up. “I don’t want to discuss that scarlet woman. If she has the nerve to call, just tell her I said Matthew 7:23.” She tossed her plate in the sink. “I cooked, y’all can clean up. I have a Historical Society meeting this morning.” She stomped out of the room.
Gabe looked at me in confusion. “Got a Bible handy?”
I sighed. “I don’t need one. She and Garnet have bandied that verse back and forth for as long as I can remember: ‘Then I will tell them plainly, I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers.’ ”
Gabe gave a delighted laugh and started clearing the table. “That’s great.”
“Yeah, well, let’s see how funny you think it is when Dove is still here two weeks from now.”
He gave me a serious look as he stacked dishes in the dishwasher. “Two weeks from now this house better be occupied by only two people.”
“Gee,” I replied. “I wonder where we’re going to live.”
When I arrived at the museum, it became immediately apparent that tempers and nerves were running short. Nora’s murder had added a ribbon of tension to the festivities. Inside the museum our head docent, Mildred Posner, was training a group of five senior citizens.
“Here’s our illustrious leader now,” Mildred said. “I was just telling them about the first murder you solved during the antique-quilt exhibit last November.” Dark eyes sparkled mischievously behind her thick glasses.
“Mildred,” I said, “that’s not supposed to be a part of the tour.”
“I know, but you have to admit it gives the place ambience.”
“Not the kind we’re trying to achieve.” Laughter rippled through the small group. I answered with a perfunctory smile. I didn’t want to discourage anyone who wanted to get involved, but to them the murders here were just another piece of gossip, a sort of urban ghost story, but to me they were a very real and sometimes still frightening memory.
“What are you teaching them today?” I asked,