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“I will.”
“I’ll see our visitors out, Aunt Celeste,” Frannie said. “You go on upstairs.”
“All right. Goodbye.” Celeste shuffled from the room, looking old and wan.
Rafe gazed after her for a long moment, then turned to Frannie. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re more than welcome.” Frannie smiled at Gretchen. “It was nice meeting you, Gretchen.”
“Nice meeting you, too.”
“Good luck with your investigation.”
“Thanks. With a thirty-year-old murder case, we’re likely to need it.” Gretchen tucked her pen and notebook into her tote bag, then looked at Frannie. “Has your aunt ever told you anything about that night?”
Frannie shook her head. “She never talks about Jeremiah.”
“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
Frannie lifted her shoulders. “Celeste is very superstitious. She used to live in Baton Rouge, and she picked up a lot of Cajun beliefs about spirits and such. She’s probably afraid Jeremiah will hear her talking about him. My mom said all of them were afraid of Jeremiah. He evidently had quite a temper.”
“Hmm,” Gretchen murmured. “Well, I’m sorry if we upset your aunt.”
Rafe followed the detective out the front door, then paused on the porch. He turned to Frannie. “Have a good day. And thanks for your time.”
“Any time.”
The sheriff paused, his hand on the door. “We’ll probably need to come back and question Celeste again.”
“I understand.”
Frannie leaned against the door as soon as she closed it behind the sheriff. Aunt Celeste was one of the kindest, warmest, most helpful women she’d ever known. She was a natural-born nurturer, and she’d always been open and straightforward.
Her reluctance to talk about Jeremiah and her inability to recall the events surrounding Raven’s death struck Frannie as highly unusual. The sheriff and his new investigator seemed to think so, too. There was more to the story than Celeste was telling, and Frannie couldn’t help but wonder what it was.
Three
Frannie looked up from a stack of loan applications late the next morning to see a familiar figure in a white physician’s coat approach her desk at the Whitehorn Savings and Loan. “Summer! What brings you here?”
“You do.” Summer sat in the armchair across from the desk and grinned at her cousin. “Jasmine tells me you’ve agreed to let us give you a makeover.”
Frannie shifted uneasily in her desk chair. She’d told Jasmine yesterday that she’d go along with Summer’s plan, but now she was having second thoughts. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that, and—”
“Oh, no,” Summer broke in, lifting her hands in a stop gesture. “We’re not going to let you back out now. I’ve already told Kyle that his date with you is confirmed.”
“Confirmed!” Frannie’s eyebrows flew up. “What do you mean, confirmed?”
Summer’s mouth curved into a small smile. “Gavin and I ran into Kyle at the country club Saturday night, and I asked if he’d be interested in having me fix him up with you for the dance. He seemed quite eager.”
Probably because he thinks I look like you. Frannie eyed her cousin suspiciously. “Saturday night? But how did you know I’d agree?”
Summer didn’t even pretend to look apologetic. “I didn’t.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a newspaper clipping. “Anyway, here’s your first assignment.”
“Assignment?”
Summer nodded. “Jasmine and I are going to give you assignments, and you’re going to follow them exactly.”
Oh, dear, what had she let herself in for? Summer’s take-charge attitude and sense of initiative had served her well—it had helped her work her way through medical school, and she’d used it to see her husband through a difficult episode when he’d been falsely accused of a crime—but sometimes Summer could make Frannie feel as if she’d been hit by a steam roller. She eyed her cousin warily. “What kind of assignments?”
Summer handed Frannie the clipping. Frannie glanced down at it, then looked up quizzically. “This is an ad for Kiss of Dew makeup and skin care products.”
Summer nodded. “A representative is giving free facials and makeup lessons at Kaylor’s Drug Store today. I want you to go on your lunch hour.”
Summer read the clipping more closely. “It says you have to call and schedule an appointment.”
“I’ve already done it for you. I know you take a late lunch, so your appointment is set for one.”
“Summer, I usually eat lunch on my lunch hour.”
“As a physician, I’m fully aware of your nutritional needs.” Summer took out a packaged sandwich from her purse. “That’s why I brought you this from the hospital vending machine.”
Frannie sighed as Summer set the sandwich on her desk. “You’re a real piece of work, Summer. You know that, don’t you?”
Summer flashed a blinding smile. “So I hear.” She glanced at her watch and rose from the chair. “I have to get to the clinic. I’ll stop by the Big Sky on my way home this evening to see how your makeup looks.” She hoisted her large purse on her shoulder and raised a hand as she walked away. “Ta-ta!”
Frannie watched her go, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Why had she ever agreed to this silly plan? She’d be better off taking an assertiveness training class—or lessons in basket weaving or tea cozy knitting or trapeze flying. Then, at least, she’d stand a ghost of a chance of succeeding.
“We need the smoothest skin possible under our foundation, so we’re going to start with this lovely kiwi avocado skin mask.”
The Kiss of Dew cosmetics representative evidently spoke of everything in terms of “we.” She’d already told Frannie that “we” had beautiful skin. All the same, she’d spent the past five minutes preparing it for a beautifying skin treatment.
Frannie winced as the stocky middle-aged woman poured a mound of green slime into her palm and picked up a cotton ball. “Is this really necessary?”
The heavily made-up lady nodded, jiggling her well-powdered multiple chins. “Oh, yes. Absolutely. Why, it’s part of our Essential Exfolliants and Emollients Kiss Kollection.”
Frannie glanced at the bottle and wondered if it was merely a coincidence that the initials spelled out EEEKK. That was certainly her reaction to the prospect of having the green goo slathered all over her face.
Especially in such a public setting, Frannie thought morosely. Right in the drugstore window.
Oh, well. Frannie had already endured having her face cleaned and swabbed with two different potions while passersby stopped and gawked. Wearing the green goop couldn’t be too much more humiliating. Folding her arm under the black cosmetics cape, she closed her eyes and resigned herself to the inevitable.
The woman began dabbing the cold, gooey substance on her face. “There. Doesn’t that feel refreshing?”
It felt like having a mixture of gelatin and undiluted pea soup globbed on her skin. Frannie pulled her lips into an expression simulating a smile and tried not to cringe as the woman smeared the thick paste across her forehead, over her nose, on her cheeks and down her chin.
“There! We’re all done.” The woman held a mirror up to Frannie’s face.
She looked as if she’d just stepped off a space shuttle from Mars. The only parts of her face that weren’t vivid green were her eyelids and her lips.
“Now all we have to do is sit and wait fifteen minutes while the mask works its magic,” the woman said perkily, batting her false eye lashes. “Then we’ll sponge it off and apply your makeup.”
Great. Fifteen minutes of sitting in the front window of Kaylor’s, looking like Swamp Thing. The only good thing about it was that nobody would be likely to recognize her under all that gunk.
Frannie pulled on her eyeglasses and stared out at Main Street, noting that there seemed to be more traffic than usual. Three yellow dump trucks cruised slowly past in single file, heading toward the resort and casino construction site.
She was following their progress when a small black-and-white object on the sidewalk across the street caught her eye. It was a dog, Frannie realized—an adorable, tiny dog with a puglike face and long, fluffy hair, probably a Shih Tzu. As Frannie watched in horror, the little dog wandered into the street and narrowly missed being hit by a passing blue van. The animal headed back to the curb, but a white Chevy cruised by, forcing the dog into the center of the road. Turning, the little dog skulked down the yellow line in the middle of the street, its tail tucked between its legs.
Frannie tensed. The dog was in front of the drugstore window now, directly in her line of vision. Judging from the rhinestone-studded collar and red bow, it was obviously someone’s pampered pet.
The little animal timidly started across the street again, heading right into the path of a red sports coupe. Frannie gasped as the driver swerved and honked. She didn’t realize she’d shut her eyes until she opened them a second later to see the little dog cowering in the street, its tail tucked, as the red car zoomed past.
Before she had time to consider her actions, Frannie flew off the stool, dashed through the drugstore and ran out the door. She stood on the sidewalk for a second, scanning the street for the little dog, then spotted it standing in the middle of the eastbound lane. The creature’s big brown eyes gazed at her pleadingly as it cringed in the road, directly in the path of a sleek black Jaguar rapidly barreling toward it.
“Stop!” Frannie yelled, waving her arms and stepping toward the road. The car showed no signs of slowing. The driver honked, but continued to speed toward the little dog.
“Don’t hit the dog!” Frannie screamed. The driver either didn’t hear or didn’t care.
There was no time to waste. Frannie dashed into the street, the black plastic cape flapping wildly around her. She threw herself headlong at the little dog, clutched it to her chest and rolled onto the pavement, praying she was rolling out of harm’s way.
She heard the squeal of brakes and smelled the burn of rubber. When she opened her eyes, she was facedown on the pavement, so close to the concrete that the pebbles in it looked like boulders.
She slowly lifted her gaze to see the bumper of the Jaguar less than a foot away. It was a good thing she was lying down. Otherwise, she surely would have fainted.
The driver’s door jerked open, and an angry man climbed out. His face was so mottled with rage that it took her moment realize that it was Lyle Brooks, the owner of the Whitehorn-based construction company building the resort and casino.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, running in front of my car like that?” Lyle demanded.
Frannie gazed down at the black and white dog wriggling in her arms. “I was saving this dog.”
“To hell with the dog! He’s not big enough to have caused any damage to my car. You, on the other hand, are a different story. Do you have any idea what it would have done to my insurance premiums to have an accident like that?”
Frannie gasped. She knew who Lyle was—his picture had been in all the papers when he won the contract for the casino and resort—but she’d never met him before, even though he was a distant Kincaid cousin. She’d heard he was callous and hard-hearted, but she’d always figured the stories were exaggerated. She was beginning to think differently.
“Your insurance premiums wouldn’t have been nearly as high as your court costs and bail bond,” said a low male voice from behind her, a familiar smoky voice, full of unfamiliar, barely controlled anger. “I saw the whole thing, and it looked to me like you were speeding. And I’d testify to that in a court of law.”
Frannie turned to see Austin Parker behind her, his eyes narrowed and his lips set in a hard, ungiving line.
The woman on the pavement stared up at him, her strangely familiar hazel eyes huge in her bright green face. Under any other circumstances Austin was sure he’d be amused, but what he’d just witnessed left him too shaken and angry to feel any sense of humor.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He reached down a hand and helped her up. The moment he touched her, he knew why she looked familiar. This was the woman from the bed-and-breakfast—the one who’d fallen over her chair when he first met her, then spilled egg all over both of them. He peered at her curiously.
“Frannie?”
“Yes?”
How the devil had her face gotten in that condition? “You didn’t just try to serve someone something green, did you?”
She looked at him blankly, then pulled her hand away to get a better grip on the dog, who was licking her cheek with gusto. Comprehension dawned. “Oh. N-no. I was having a facial.”
Austin turned back toward the driver of the Jaguar, a feeling of distaste rising in his throat. Even if he hadn’t just seen the man nearly run down a helpless animal with what looked like cold-blooded deliberation, he was certain he would have disliked him on sight. His lips were set in what looked like perpetual disdain, and he had a foppish, overly groomed look that spoke of self-absorption. His perfectly combed hair was so heavily moussed and gelled that the wind lifted it as a single unit. He wore a Rolex watch on his left wrist and a pinky ring on each hand. A gold chain was visible at the open neck of his custom-made shirt.
Austin looked him dead in the eye. “Looked to me like you were aiming for that dog.”
“It had no business being on the street.” Lyle glared at Frannie. “And the same goes for you.”
Austin took a menacing step forward. “Well, now, I believe you have that all wrong. Frannie here has as much right as anyone to be anywhere she pleases. You’re the one who was out of line. You owe Frannie an apology, and I’d like to hear you make it.”
“I’ll do no such thing. I had the right of way. I was driving along, minding my own business, when she recklessly threw herself in front of my car.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘your own business’ when you’re behind the wheel of a car,” Austin said sharply.
The man stared at him coldly. “I know who you are. You’re that racing hotshot that just moved here, aren’t you?” He pulled himself up to his full height, but Austin still towered over him. The man puffed out his chest and scowled. “Maybe you don’t know who you’re dealing with here. I’m Lyle Brooks, the owner of one of the biggest construction companies in Montana, and I don’t need lessons in how to drive a car.”
Austin glared at the man. “Well, then, maybe you need lessons in how to read street signs, because you were clearly exceeding the speed limit. You were racing down Main Street as if it were the final lap at Winslow, and I’ll have no problem telling that to the police.”
“The police?” Lyle’s eyebrows shot up. His brow furrowed, and his eyes widened in apprehension. “Hey, now, there wasn’t an accident. There’s no reason to get the law involved.”
Austin took another step forward, enjoying the fact that it forced Lyle to back up. “Not if you apologize to Miss Hannon.”
The man’s eyes narrowed.
Austin rubbed his chin. “If you have a problem with that, well, then, I’m afraid I’ll have a problem letting this matter go without filing a report. And Miss Hannon, here, is likely to want to press charges for reckless endangerment.”
Frannie looked at him wide-eyed. Austin was pretty certain she’d never do any such thing, but he was thankful she kept silent.
“If we all stand here blocking traffic much longer, the police are likely to show up whether we want them to or not,” Austin added.
Lyle’s eyes were small, hate-filled slits. With an impatient sigh, he turned toward Frannie. “Sorry.”
He hardly sounded sincere, but Austin decided not to push it. He watched the man stalk back to his expensive car, climb in and peel rubber as he drove away.
“What a charmer,” Austin muttered. He looked at Frannie, and the absurdity of her green face made him smile. “We’d better get out of the street.”
He took her arm, started to the sidewalk, only to realize she was limping. “Are you hurt?”
She winced in pain. “I think I skinned my knee.”
“I’ve got a first-aid kit in my car. Let’s get you to that bench on the sidewalk, then I’ll go get it.”
They’d made it to the sidewalk and had nearly reached the bench when an elderly woman rushed up to Frannie, all out of breath. “Snook’ems!” Her wrinkled face beaming, she clasped her hands to her chest. “Oh, you found my Snooky-Wook’ems! Oh, how can I thank you?”
The fur ball in Frannie’s arms thumped its tail madly. Frannie passed the dog to the woman’s outstretched arms.
The woman joyfully kissed the animal on its wet black nose. “I’ve been looking everywhere for her.” The little dog nearly knocked off the woman’s glasses in its effusive expression of delight. “Where did you find my angel?”
