Goose in the Pond - Earlene Fowler [96]
Was that the true story of Roy and Nora? Was their hate just one step away from turning back into love? Had it been on the verge of doing just that? If that was true, I knew one person who would have been devastated. But would Grace be crushed enough to kill? To kill the object of love in hopes of killing the love? I didn’t want to think that about my new friend, but she was a passionate woman, a woman who never did things halfway. I leaned back in my chair and pressed my warm mug of coffee against my temple.
“Headache?” Evangeline asked as she walked through my open door. She was dressed in a long, gauzy dress the color of celery. Tiny silver stars embossed in the fabric caught the light when she moved. Her black hair was piled high in a chignon with curly tendrils trailing down. Her only jewelry was a large silver pendant depicting a Pueblo storyteller doll.
I set the mug down and smiled. “Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll have one before the night is over.”
“Let’s at least make an attempt to be optimistic, ’tite amie.” She bent close to look at my shiner. “I heard you saved your stepson single-handedly last night. A real Clint Eastwood rescue.”
“It was probably more along the lines of Lucy Ricardo. Some punks were vandalizing Gabe’s truck, Sam rushed in, and one of them went at him with a knife. All I did was grab the guy around the waist and hang on.” I watched her face as I told the story, a small part of me wondering if she could have hired those guys. I remembered that she’d once worked at Trigger’s, a local cowboy and oil-field workers’ bar on the rough side of town and probably knew guys who would do anything for the right price. Yes, she could have, but why? I shook my head in disgust at my growing cynical nature. Next thing I knew I’d be suspecting Aunt Garnet of being involved.
Her face remained sympathetic. “Scary. How did Gabe take it?”
“Take a guess. He’s absolutely furious. What’s worse is it caused another argument between him and Sam. One I’m not sure is going to be easily mended. He lost his temper and really let Sam have it, and Sam responded predictably. I can’t picture either one giving in this time.”
“Bon chien retient de race,” she said, holding a palm up.
I raised my eyebrows in question.
Her musical voice was low with amusement. “Like father, like son.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I held up my coffee mug. “I’d like to say you oughta see the other guy, but unless my teeth managed to break through his cotton sleeve, Sam and I got the worse of it.”
“You bit him?” She gave a delighted laugh. “Good goin’, girl.”
“Are you all ready for your first session tonight?”
“All set. I’ll be taking the stage right after your welcoming speech.”
“My very short welcoming speech. Just the thought of people staring at me makes me want to hide under the bed. I just hope my cousin Rita’s makeup job holds up.”
“You know, there’s this great makeup that covers bruises like a dream. It’s called Dermablend. It’ll cover anything.”
“I’ll look for it. I have no idea how long this shiner will last.”
“About a—” She stopped abruptly. I waited for her to continue. She pulled at a loose strand of hair and gave a glittery laugh. “You can get Dermablend in any department store. I use it for stage makeup. Kind of an old thespian’s trick. Like Vaseline on the teeth. Well, gotta go. I promised Dolores I’d hear her story one more time. She’s as nervous as a wild turkey about her solo appearance tonight. Wait’ll you see her costume. It’s out of this world.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I watched her walk out, mulling over our conversation. Especially the point where she paused—something Gabe said he always looked for when interrogating someone—that moment of hesitation. Something she’d said triggered a