Come Rain or Shine: Rose Gardner Investigations #5 (Rose Gardner Investigatons) Page 3

  Wendy took the card and looked it over. “Rose Gardner. This says you’re a private investigator.”

  “In training,” I said, realizing I’d given her the wrong card. “I’m mostly a landscape designer.”

  “Huh.” She dropped the card into her purse, then turned her attention back to the TV, muttering to herself, “Rose bushes have thorns. Rose bushes have thorns.”

  Loretta frowned at her. “You been drinkin’ this morning, Wendy?”

  Wendy’s neck whipped around so fast I worried she’d hurt herself. “I have not been drinkin’. How can you ask me that?”

  Loretta cast a glance my direction, then shifted her attention back to Loretta. “You seem…off.”

  “Why do you think I’m at the doctor’s?” she snapped.

  Loretta lifted her hands up in surrender and sat down in her seat.

  Wendy’s attention turned to the plastic container on the counter. “Are those cookies?”

  “Uh…yeah,” I stammered in surprise. “Chocolate chip.”

  “Can I have one?”

  I hesitated, then gave Wendy a warm smile. “Actually, I made them for the office staff as a thank you for bein’ so nice to my sister.”

  “So can I have one?” she demanded with an outstretched hand.

  Wendy was either the bluntest woman I’d ever met or something really was wrong with her. Based on the size of her pupils, I was going with the latter. “Uh…”

  Loretta snatched the box of cookies from the counter and put them on the desk next to her keyboard. “You need to get goin’, Wendy Hartman. You don’t have an appointment and neither does your cat.”

  “But I need more pills. Will the new doctor give them to me?”

  Loretta gave her a pointed stare. “Wendy, I’m not in charge of patient care. I simply make appointments and take co-payments.”

  “I want a cookie,” Wendy said, fixated on the cookie container.

  “She’s not right,” I said to Loretta in an undertone. “Maybe someone should tell Dr. Newton and see if she can fit Wendy in.”

  “I want a cookie,” Wendy shouted, banging her hand on the counter.

  The cat let out a screech and made a dash for its owner.

  Loretta gave her a patient look. “Wendy, why don’t you take a seat. I’ll see if Dr. Newton can get you an opening.” When Wendy tried to reach over the counter, Loretta moved the plastic container to a counter behind her. “I don’t think you should be havin’ anything to eat or drink until you see Dr. Newton.”

  “But I want a cookie now!”

  “Just give her a damn cookie and shut her up!” an older man shouted from the corner of the waiting room. “She’s ruining the show!” From what I could tell, there wasn’t much to be ruined. A woman had just won a lifetime supply of American cheese after successfully guessing how many slices were in a ten-foot-tall stack.

  “Wendy,” Loretta said, drawing out her name. “I think we need to just wait to see Dr. Newton, okay?”

  While I really did need to get to the office to prepare for my presentation, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Wendy alone like this. Not when she so clearly wasn’t well. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the waiting room. “Why don’t we go sit down? I’ll wait with you.”

  She let me lead her to a seat perpendicular to the grumpy older man and his wife, and across from a woman with a school-aged boy. The man was once again riveted on the game show, and his wife had her nose buried in a large-print Reader’s Digest. The mother tried to wrap her arm around her boy’s back, but he shoved her off. With a harrumph, she glared at the cat.

  “You can’t have that cat in here,” she snapped.

  Wendy gave her a belligerent look and glanced around the room. “I don’t see any signs sayin’ I can’t.”

  “It’s just plain common sense,” the mother said.

  “Maybe I ain’t got no common sense,” Wendy drawled out in a slur, making me wonder if she had been drinking…or taking drugs.

  I leaned closer to the woman next to me. “Wendy, we should probably take Stinkerbell out to the car.”

  Wendy’s eyes widened. “Stinkerbell’s here?”

  “He’s at your damn feet!” the older man shouted.

  His wife startled and looked up from her reading. “Huh?”

  The mother shot the older man a glare as she placed her hands over her son’s ears. “Watch your language. Little pitchers have big ears.”

  “Oh, come on,” the boy said, shoving her hands away. “That’s bullshit. You and dad talk a hell of a lot worse than that.”

  Wendy burst out laughing, while the older woman returned to her reading, tuning all of us out again.

  The mother shot Wendy a dark look. “Are you laughing at me?”

  Wendy was laughing too hard to answer.

  “What’s so damn funny?” the older man asked me.

  “Language!” the mother shouted.

  As Wendy continued laughing, I started having second thoughts about getting involved. I had enough messes of my own without taking on anyone else’s.

  “You’re completely off your rocker,” the mother said, pointing her finger at Wendy. “You’ve got a one-way ticket to crazy town. I’ve seen you at Burger Shack before. You’re lucky I don’t report you to your boss.”

  Wendy stiffened. “I’m not crazy.”

  “And get your mangy cat out of here,” the woman added, waving her finger at the cat, who was now scratching one of the waiting room chairs.

  “What cat?” Wendy said.

  “She’s crazy!” the mother shouted at the front desk. I had started to back away, hoping to extricate myself from the situation, when the cat launched itself at the mother’s bright red purse on the floor, attacking it like it was in a fight for its life.

  It was no surprise, really—it was shaped like a dog.

  The woman tried to kick the animal away, and Wendy released the cat’s leash and grabbed the purse, holding it tight and rocking back and forth as she cooed, “There you are, Mr. Wiggles.”

  “I thought you said your cat’s name is Stinkerbell,” the old man said in confusion.

  His wife looked up for a moment, lowering her magazine. “What?”

  “She’s stealing my purse!” the mother shouted.

  Reluctantly, I inched closer to Wendy and leaned over. “Wendy, why don’t you give this nice lady her purse back?”

  “She ain’t a lady.”

  I would have gone with she wasn’t nice, but Wendy wasn’t all there right now.

  The mother leaned forward and grabbed the strap of her purse and tugged, but Wendy merely tightened her grip on it. “I’ll die before I let you have my purse! It cost me $39.99 on Etsy and an additional $5 for the ears and tail!”

  Sure enough, there were floppy ears sticking out above the dog’s face…which Stinkerbell was now trying to rip off the bag. The woman gave a hard jerk and sent the cat flipping backward end over end.

  The cat let out a screech loud enough to wake the dead and bolted for the potted plant, the leash trailing behind him.

  “Everybody, calm down!” Loretta shouted as she leaned over the counter, but Wendy and the mother continued their tug-of-war, now getting to their feet. The contents of the bag flew all over the room, a tube of lipstick smacking the older woman in the forehead, but she absently brushed her head as she continued to read, paying no attention to the melee in front of her.

  The boy grabbed his mother’s phone from the seat and started videotaping the escapade with a huge smile.

  The older man had abandoned the game show for the more interesting competition unfolding in front of him. “My money’s on the crazy woman. She’s scrappy.”

  There was no way in tarnation I was betting against Wendy.

  The mother tilted sideways and both women tumbled into the chairs. Neither had tried to assault the other—the purse was taking all the damage. One of the ears now lay on the floor, and something long and ski
nny, which I presumed to be the tail I hadn’t seen before, was whipping around between them.

  I considered trying to separate them, but shrapnel was still flying out of the purse. Pennies. Loose gum. Half of a broken action figure. I turned to Loretta with a pleading look, but she was already on the phone. She glanced up at me, pointing to the receiver. “Don’t you worry. The Henryetta police are on their way.”

  Great. My favorite people.

  CHAPTER 3

  Why hadn’t I just left? Now I wouldn’t have the time I needed to prepare for my meeting at ten. Instead, I’d be giving a statement to Henryetta’s finest.

  I pulled out my phone and called Joe, but it went to voice mail. Crap. Loretta was still standing by the door, watching the brawl. Several other office staff stood behind her in shock, but no one intervened. The two women were now rolling around on the carpeted floor, which I supposed was the safest place for them. They still hadn’t tried to hurt one another, although there was plenty of shouting. The police were on their way, so I supposed the safest thing for all concerned was to let them go at it.

  “Loretta, I’ve really got to go,” I pleaded, “especially if I’m gonna come back and meet Dr. Newton this afternoon.”

  She gave me a distracted wave. “You scoot along,” she said. “I’ve got this covered.”

  I almost told her that I’d likely need to give a statement. God knew, I’d witnessed enough altercations to have learned that lesson. But the police could track me down to get it…heavens knew the sheriff’s department had done it a time or two.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I owe you.”

  She leaned closer and grinned. “Hey, I had one of your cookies. I think I’m the one who owes you.”

  I hurried out the door and to my car. I’d just pulled out of the lot when I saw a Henryetta police car headed in my direction, and I was thankful I’d gotten out in time.

  The downtown square wasn’t very busy, so I found a parking spot right in front of RBW Landscaping. But I couldn’t ignore the allure of the Daily Grind. Violet’s illness had taken its toll on me, and I found myself exhausted more often than not lately. After the debacle at the doctor’s office, caffeine was a must.

  The usual morning crowd at the coffee shop had thinned out, and I was relieved to see only one person in line in front of me. It made me feel less guilty about wasting time I could have used to review my presentation.

  Thankfully, the man in front of me just ordered a coffee with room for cream, so I placed my order of a mocha with an extra shot and a blueberry muffin within seconds of entering the shop.

  As I finished paying, I heard a voice I recognized say, “What does he see in her? She’s a pathetic mess. Look at her.” A slight I was obviously meant to hear.

  Sure enough, a slight turn of my head brought Dena Breene into view. She was cradling a cup of coffee. Margi Romano, Levi’s sister, sat across from her with her own coffee, but her face was flushed.

  “Dena!” Margi whispered in admonishment when she saw that I was facing them.

  But Dena didn’t back down, giving me a flat-out hateful glare. “You just couldn’t stand it that someone else wanted a man you’d thrown away. You had to snatch him back.”

  I could understand why she saw it that way, and while I sympathized, I was confident that I wasn’t to blame for her breakup with Joe…at least not entirely. Dena had been controlling, so much so Neely Kate had sat Joe down for a come-to-Jesus meeting over the way he was letting Dena interfere with their fledgling sibling relationship.

  “Do you have a magic hoo-ha?” Dena asked, getting to her feet. “How many men have you been through in this town? Joe, Levi, Mason. Who else?”

  I gasped in shock but didn’t say a word. I had no beef with Dena, although she clearly still had one with me.

  Dena propped a hand on her hip. “If I go after Mason Deveraux, will you drop Joe like a hot potato and go after him next?”

  “Dena!” Tony, the barista, called out. “Watch your mouth. We won’t stand by that kind of talk in here.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t be servin’ sluts,” Dena said in a snide tone.

  Tony handed me my order. “I’m sorry, Rose.” Then he put both hands on the counter and leaned forward, shooting her a glare. “Dena, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

  “Are you kiddin’ me?” she demanded. “She’s the man-stealin’ whore, and you’re kickin’ me out?”

  “That’s okay,” I said with a tight smile. “I’m leavin’, so let her stay.”

  I hurried out the front door, clutching my coffee and the bag with my muffin. About a half minute later, I was in front of my office, fumbling to get my keys out of my purse, when I heard a woman say, “I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”

  I turned in surprise to see Margi.

  She took the coffee cup and pastry bag from my hands. “Let me help.”

  I shook my head, focusing on inserting the key in the lock. “Thanks, but I’m sure Dena won’t appreciate you helpin’ or apologizin’.”

  “Dena’s like a stubborn donkey who doesn’t know when to let something go.”

  Her warm tone soothed my defensiveness, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Are you callin’ Dena an ass?”

  She laughed, and it was so pure and genuine the rest of my wariness faded. “If the shoe fits.”

  I took a breath and pushed the door open. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. She’s your friend.”

  “Only because I don’t have many friends here in Henryetta yet,” she said, sounding embarrassed. “You know, I think the way a person reacts to conflict says something about their character. I admire the way you dealt with that.”

  “Maybe I just recognize I’m guilty as charged,” I said slyly, dropping my keys in my purse and turning to face her.

  “Levi doesn’t have a bad word to say about you.” The earnest look in her bright blue eyes took me by surprise. “I was wrong to treat you so poorly when we met before. I didn’t know the full story—I just knew that my brother was crazy about you and you dumped him. He explained the situation to me later. He said you weren’t ready to date yet and he pursued you anyway. I’m sorry for how I acted.”

  I gave her a warm smile. “You were just bein’ a good sister.”

  “You could have told me off, yet you didn’t. Just like you didn’t put Dena in her place. That says a lot about you.”

  I blushed and glanced down at the sidewalk before lifting my gaze. “I’ve had my fair share of public verbal confrontations,” I admitted, “but truth be told, I realized you were standing up for your brother, and I respect that. Just like I realize that Dena really liked Joe and is lookin’ for a scapegoat to blame for their breakup.”

  “She’s a fool if she thinks Joe moved in with you because you two are back together.”

  My mouth parted in shock and I lifted a hand to brush a few stray hairs off my forehead. “What makes you say that?”

  “You and Joe have never gone on a single date since he’s moved in. And the few times I’ve seen you out together, I never once got the feeling that you two were a couple in love.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Was it a bad thing if people figured out we weren’t romantically linked?

  She cringed. “I’m so sorry. I overstepped my bounds. I haven’t told anyone my suspicions—it’s just something I noticed.” Her face pinkened. “What I’m trying to say—and doing a piss-poor job of—is that Dena’s a fool to think you broke up her and Joe. She took care of that one all on her own. Joe’s just helping out his friends.”

  “If you’re friends with Dena, should you be sayin’ all of that?”

  Margi released a small laugh. “I told her pretty much the same thing before I ran after you, so don’t go thinking I make a habit of talking about my friends behind their back.” Then she turned serious. “This is all kinds of awkward, but would you consider meeting me for coffee sometime?”

  My life was a hot me
ss, but I could see that Margi was lonely and I was a firm believer that you couldn’t have too many friends. Especially after I’d gone so many years without any. Plus I knew she was dating my friend Randy Miller, a Fenton County deputy, and I considered him a good judge of character. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I’d like that.”

  “Would it be okay if I asked Levi to give me your number so I could text you?”

  I blinked. “Yeah…sure. Or I can give it to you now.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, taking a step backward. “I don’t have my phone handy.” She turned to leave, then spun back. “Hey. I heard you have an empty horse pasture.”

  How had she heard that? Had I told Levi? Or maybe Randy had mentioned it. “Uh…yeah. My birth mother had horses when she was growing up.”

  “I’m not sure if you know, but I’m working with horses—boarding and such—and we’re currently full. Occasionally we’ll get word about a horse needing rescue, and I hate turning them down.”

  I made a face. “I don’t know the first thing about takin’ care of horses.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. “You wouldn’t have to. I’d come and take care of them, and they wouldn’t be there long term. Maybe a few weeks at the most.”

  “I’m not sure my barn can house horses. There aren’t any stalls.”

  “Can I come out and look around anyway?” she asked. “You can always tell me it won’t work, but at least let me see if you’ve got adequate facilities.”

  It was hard to turn down an animal in need. Muffy had been a rescue, but she’d been the one to rescue me, both physically and emotionally. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for you to check it out.”

  “Great!” she said with a bright smile. “Let me know when would be convenient for you.”

  “Tonight won’t work,” I said. “We’re havin’ a big family dinner, but I might be free tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you, Rose,” she said with a warm smile.