The Wrong Drawers Read online

  Yowza! What was that? I had no doubt I was about to find out.

  Chapter Two

  Thirty seconds later, the introductions were finished and I’d received the eye freeze again from Tarrin. What I didn’t know was why. I had never met this chicky before. She’d moved back into town not long ago, so she should be an outsider, too, like me. Of course, she’d grown up here, which probably gave her “returned goddess” status, instead of “nosy new girl,” as they called yours truly.

  “I have to go take care of a couple of things,” Bella said, giving me a look, “including getting some icing out of my hair. Why don’t the two of you get to know each other? I’ll be right back.” She paused before she left the kitchen. “Oh, Tarrin, it’s so good to have you back.” Bella hugged the other woman, and you should have seen the look Tarrin sent me over Bella’s shoulder. It nearly fried the ends of my frosted brown hair. One part spite, two parts bitch, and all evil. And I was going to be stuck in here with her while I put icing on man-part cookies. Yay.

  “So,” I said, trying to be nice, though a small part of me wanted to assert my dominant place here. “Are you enjoying being back in town?” It was a simple enough question, but you would think I had told her she’d won the national lottery.

  “What’s not to like?” She gestured around the kitchen with long, elegant (manicured, argh!) hands. “All these people who think I’m a bigwig in a huge company, coming home to friends who think I have it all, which I do. Did I mention I brought my fiancé home, too? He’s handsome, rich, and adores me. Thank God I left this town and all its little people behind, because now I can come home a success. I wouldn’t have been able to do that if I’d stayed and married Ben like I was supposed to.”

  I gasped before I could stop myself. Ben—my Ben—had been with this...this... Oh, I couldn’t think of a dirty enough word.

  “Do you know Ben?” She did an eyebrow cock I envied.

  Did I know Ben? Did I know Ben? I knew Ben all right, but apparently not to the extent she did. Oh, man, did this mean her hands had been on his doodads, too? Ack. She probably had more carnal knowledge of my boyfriend than I did.

  “Ben and Ivy are together,” Bella said, swinging into the kitchen to grab a stack of napkins. “Be right back.”

  “You and Ben are an item, huh?” She snickered and gave me an evil smile. “Well, good luck with that.”

  She said it like she knew something I didn’t. What could she know? What did it all mean? Why was I nearing hyperventilation and stuffing a man-part cookie into my mouth to quiet the scream clawing to get out?

  “Oh, by the way, your little back room? You may want to rethink it. Your little store”—she did the air quotation thing around the word store, which drove me batty—“won’t last long once everyone knows I’m back. They’ll flock to me like a bunch of sheep. Especially since I can give them higher quality merchandise and a more, shall we say, appropriate saleswoman.”

  Okay, not only was that totally rude, but—hello? She’d met me less than ten minutes ago. She had no idea if I would run to Bella and tell her what a whack-job this woman was. I said as much to Tarrin. Hey, I had nothing to lose.

  Her answer was short and to the point, similar in vocabulary to Bella’s one-fingered salute earlier.

  “Real mature,” I said.

  “I couldn’t care less what you think. You’re more than welcome to tell Bella how you feel about me. We’ve been friends for years, and she’ll never believe you. It will be my word against yours, and who do you think she’ll believe, hmmm? Someone she met a month ago, who’s already embroiled her in trouble once, or someone she’s known and trusted for years? Before you answer, remember I’m the only friend she had when her husband left.” Her perfect lips twisted into a sneer. “I’m also the friend she just let back into her life like I’d never been gone. Do you want to risk your new friendship over some words I can simply refute?”

  Ooh, I had to admire her last word, if not her attitude. But she did have a point in all the crap spewing from her mouth. It would be her word against mine and, as much as I’d like to believe Bella would listen to me, I couldn’t be absolutely sure I’d retain my good friend through the ensuing disaster.

  Nevertheless, I decided then and there to say something to Bella, if only to let her know she should be careful when dealing with Tarrin.

  ****

  At seven, the guests started arriving and the party went into full swing. Tarrin’s mentor had shown up not long after our little conversation in the kitchen, and they had immediately ventured off to do setup. That left me with my thoughts and my man-part cookies, which, to Bella’s delight and everyone else’s, they all loved. The penises disappeared faster than I could put them on plates.

  Tarrin, with the help of her mentor, Chrissie, had set up an inviting display; I’d grudgingly give her that. It was playfully done yet tantalizing, with the merchandise set out on red satin sheets. Tarrin stood next to the table with her hands clasped in front of her, patiently waiting for everyone to quiet down before beginning her presentation.

  I saw my chance and snagged Bella on my way back to the kitchen to get more food and drink. Might as well get liquored up before buying a special battery-operated toy.

  When we entered the kitchen, I turned toward Bella, trying to come up with a way to say what needed to be said without sounding jealous or coming off as a maniac. Nothing popped into my brain, so I stared at the best friend I’d ever had while she stared back at me.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Well...” I hesitated and fidgeted, wondering if I should let the whole thing go.

  “Come on, Ivy, spit it out. I think we’re good enough friends you can tell me. Besides, I don’t want to miss Tarrin’s spiel. It won’t look good if the hostess isn’t interested in what the seller has to offer.”

  I leaned back against the tiled counter and took a deep breath. Crossing my arms over my big chest, I began the only way I knew how, by prevaricating (good word, though I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it at the moment). Confrontation had never been one of my strong suits. I avoided it at all costs but was willing to wade in. This was Bella and she deserved to know the truth.

  “Well, I know we’ve only been friends for a short time and I’ve been in town for only a little over a month, but...”

  “Yes?” Bella tapped the toe of her high-heeled shoe on the linoleum.

  “And, um, I’m not one to tell people how to live their lives or who they should be friends with?” Oh God, there I went with making statements sound like questions. This was torture; I could swear sweat beads popped out on my forehead.

  “Yes, yes, Ivy. What’s your point? You don’t like Tarrin, is that it?” I barely got a chance to nod my head before she barreled on. “She’s very nice once you get to know her. She can come across a little strong when you first meet her.” Yeah, like a freaking snowplow. “But she’s just come back into town and is trying to get her new life in order. Surely you of all people know what that’s like.”

  All right, there obviously wasn’t going to be a way to do this except come straight out and tell Bella what the psycho hose-beast had said. “Look, Bella, I do understand what it’s like to start new, but she pretty much threatened me and my store. She means to put my back room out of business by selling her own lingerie.”

  “Puh-lease!” Her flip answer stabbed me. “Afraid of some competition, Ivy? You probably misinterpreted what she said, is all. Tarrin can be many things, but destructive is not one of them.”

  “But...” Oh, crap, forget it. Who did I think I was anyway? I’d never been good at this kind of thing, even if I knew I was right, which I was this time. Maybe I needed to let Bella see it for herself. Then later I could be saint-like and refrain from saying I told you so.

  As I opened my mouth to say those exact words, Tarrin walked in—all bright, shiny, blond hair and perfect skin—the epitome of evil.

  “Hi, girls.” She turned her back to me a
nd focused on Bella. “Were you coming back in? I’m about to start taking orders and didn’t want to leave all the ladies alone in there.”

  “I’ll be right there, hon. Save an order form for me,” Bella said, her smile threatening when she turned and looked at me. “And one for Ivy, too. I’m sure there are a few things she could use in her shop.”

  Point taken. I was now required to buy something from Ms. Jackal to appease Bella. “Yeah, save one for me.” I looked down at the green-and-white checked floor. It was the only safe place for my eyes, or they would have shot daggers. “I’m sure some of my customers might be interested in new products.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m going to make sure they’re all interested.” Her long, silk-clad legs carried her out of the room.

  Bella whipped around to give me her own version of the evil eye. “I don’t see the attitude you talked about at all.”

  Then you’re blind, I thought, but didn’t say.

  She continued, with her hand on her hip, “I want you to make nice with her. It’s been a long time since I had friends, plural, in town, and I want the two of you to get along. I’d hate to choose sides.”

  What could I do? I agreed to play nice and went about my business of plating more food. When I came back into the living room, Tarrin called my name.

  “Come on in, hon.” Her fakey smile stayed firmly in place while the blond and rosy-cheeked Chrissie helped her work out the order form. As soon as the door closed behind the departing mentor, though, it fell away in a blink. “I hope you weren’t foolish enough to say something to Bella when you dragged her into the kitchen.” She leaned against the door with her arms crossed over her black suit jacket.

  “No dragging occurred, and whether I said something or not is none of your business.”

  Seating herself in the only chair in the room, she slid one leg over the other and swung a spiked heel on her toe. “You are so finished.”

  Had I mentioned I don’t like confrontation? Well, her attitude completely overrode any dislike. At least when I’d had issues with people last month, they’d masked hatred with backhanded compliments and suggestions along with little digs. This woman didn’t even try. She’d also put me in an awkward position by sitting in the chair. Either I’d have to sit on the edge of the bed or continue towering over her.

  I hesitated a moment before gingerly perching my full-sized butt on the mattress. I almost slid off the silky blue bedspread and plopped onto the floor but saved myself at the last minute by jerking my knees straight to stop my forward movement. I cleared my throat and straightened the patterned scarf tied around my throat. It was the only thing I’d found to hide the hickey Ben had accidentally-on-purpose given me during our last night together. It seemed so long ago. My dad had ruined that night of debauchery (good word), too, but that was a subject for another time. Right now, I needed to gird my mental loins for the coming argument.

  “Look, Tarrin, I don’t know what your deal is, but I don’t want any part of it. Fine, you were with Ben.” I nearly choked on the statement, but forced it out first so the rest would be easier. “Fine, you’re back in town and want your old friend back. Fine, even, that you want to sell lingerie. I’ve had the market cornered for some time; I can stand a little competition.” And hadn’t that smarted when Bella had laughed about it before? I fiddled with the scarf.

  “But know this right now: you are not going to drive me out of business, or out of town, for that matter. You can take that and twirl it on your Ultima-brator.” Okay, so by the end of my little diatribe (another good word—I was full of them this evening), I was slightly winded and kind of yelling. I’d totally lost my composure and she was still looking as cool as a frozen vegetable, dangling her shoe and examining her nails.

  “Oh, are you done now? Well, all I have to say is we’ll see about that.” One side of her lips quirked up in a smug smile.

  I wanted to smack the look off her face, pretty sure this was one time I would follow through—and relish it. Instead, I slammed into the adjoining bathroom, feeling the wind swish at my throat. The seafoam green walls and cream accents did nothing to soothe me. I took a good, big breath, ran some cool water into the shallow basin, and used it to splash my face a few times. I couldn’t go back in and face Tarrin again, yet. So, I walked out the other door and paced Bella’s personal bedroom a couple of times to calm myself. It was then I noticed my scarf was gone. Damn, now I’d have to go back in.

  I gave myself a good talking to as I paced the plush mulberry carpet. I would not allow Tarrin to get the best of me. She wasn’t even allowed to get the worst of me. She obviously had some mental problems, and I’d been taught to have compassion for those short a battery. Besides, what could she really do? Right now it was a bunch of hot air exploding out of her perfect mouth. I had nothing to worry about until she put action to those words, and I doubted she would. Women like her were all bluster and no follow-through.

  My heart slowed down, my breathing sounded less like a cow in heat, and my hands had stopped shaking. I went back into the bathroom and took a last look into the mirror, assuring myself I really was an adult who didn’t need to resort to name-calling and hair-pulling. Opening the door into the guest bedroom, I intended to finish what I had started and get my great scarf back before leaving.

  The chair was still in the same place, the satin comforter slightly askew, the way I’d left it when I had gotten up. The only difference in the room was Tarrin appeared to be wearing my scarf.

  Chapter Three

  At first, it looked as if Tarrin had decided to take a little snooze in the comfy, oversized chair. If only I could be so lucky. But the unnatural way her head twisted and the grimace etched on her beautiful face were hard to dismiss.

  So I screamed like...well, like someone had just died. For the second time in two months, I was alone in a room with a corpse. My life was never supposed to be like this.

  Bella came in first, looked at me, looked at Tarrin, and started screaming, too. The rest of the guests bottlenecked in the doorway and couldn’t get in for all their pushing and shoving.

  “Stay back,” I said, sure we shouldn’t contaminate the scene or touch anything.

  It occurred to me I hadn’t even checked to see if she was dead before I screamed. A reaction similar to the last time I’d stood over a dead body. That time I was horribly sad because the deceased was my new friend Janice. Not to say I wasn’t sad this time at the loss of a life, but I was more shocked than anything. I hadn’t been gone more than five minutes, and Tarrin had definitely been alive and bitching when the bathroom door had swung shut.

  I touched her limp wrist and felt no pulse. I’d expected as much, and yet I jumped back at the confirmation. I tripped over something on the rug and fell ass first on to the wrong end of a spiked heel. My poor behind. “Bella, why don’t you move everyone back into the living room and then call the police? I’ll stay with Tarrin until they come.”

  For a split second, Bella’s eyes hardened, and I tried to soften mine to tell her I understood how difficult this must be for her. She turned on her heel and started herding everyone back to the other room, without glancing my way again.

  ****

  The police came, and believe me when I say it was no cozy reunion when Detectives Jameson and Bartley questioned me. Sure, I had solved the last (and the only in ten years, until this one) murder, but nonetheless they were not pleased to be in my stellar company again.

  Their parting words were a warning to not leave town. I replied I wouldn’t before I remembered my date with Ben in Kilmarnock. “Would it be okay if I went to Kilmarnock in a couple of days?” I asked. If you’re wondering why I wasn’t yet worried about why the police wanted me to stay in town, I confess that being a suspect hadn’t crossed my mind yet. Duh, to me.

  It did, however, ram me right in the gut as I asked about my scarf and when I could get it back. I was undecided if I would wear it again because eww, but it was still mine. I may have been a
smart girl, but sometimes I surprised myself with my naiveté.

  “Well, Ivy, that would be evidence, now, wouldn’t it? You know what evidence is, don’t you?” Detective Jameson, a tall man who’d never really warmed to me, said. “It’s that stuff you withheld from us last month when you decided to solve the disappearance of your merchandise without our help.”

  Oh, not good. Not good at all, in fact.

  I wanted to talk with Bella when they finally allowed me to leave the kitchen and its hard chairs, but she turned away, muttering about her disaster premonition. “I knew something was going to go horribly wrong. It figures it had to do with Ivy.”

  Hurt, I passed Chrissie going in for questioning on my way out. She wouldn’t look me in the eye, either. Bella made some lame excuse about needing to clean up, then packing to stay at the Bubbling Brook Bed and Breakfast. Again, it hurt, but I could take a hint and figured she needed some time alone. I understood the need and left, waving goodbye to her. I promised to call her the next day and got a noncommittal grunt for my trouble.

  I ended up driving around after I left. The party had broken up earlier than expected, but I wasn’t ready to go home to deal with my dad, not yet.

  My subconscious took me to the one place I could expect full support and no condemnation. Five minutes later found me sitting in a booth at Mad Martha’s Milk and Munchies with a piece of cherry pie and a double hit of vanilla ice cream. Dessert did not turn its back on you. I’d tried Ben’s apartment first, but he wasn’t home, so I came to drown my nervousness and sorrow in calories.

  Bella should have been sitting across from me as we commiserated, but she was grieving. Something about her attitude bugged me, although I couldn’t put my finger on what precisely it was. Sure, she’d muttered about me being trouble, but why had she been so quick to point the finger?

  “How are things, Ivy?” Martha said. Yes, there really was a Martha, but I was pretty sure the only thing that made her mad was her ex-husband.