Midnight Crossing (Josie Gray Mysteries #5)(38)
“What’s wrong with people trying to do good?” he said.
His question made her pause. “I don’t know. Nothing’s wrong with them. They’re good people.”
“Then why call them do-gooders? Why do they irritate you?”
“It’s the self-righteous people who throw their good out there for praise that irritate me.”
“So give them a little praise. What’s wrong with that?”
“I think you’re trying to harass me.”
He laughed. “I’m not. I’m just trying to understand you. You’re a complicated person sometimes.”
She sighed. She couldn’t explain her reasoning to herself at times, so how could she expect Nick to understand her? She changed the subject. “What are your plans tonight?”
“I’m on stakeout. We had a big breakthrough this morning. We know where the victim’s being held. We hope to close in tonight with a rescue. I won’t see you tonight. Maybe tomorrow if everything goes well.”
“That’s great. Just be careful, stay safe. And let me know what happens.”
NINE
After a quick shower and change into a yellow sundress and sandals, Josie pulled her hair up into a clip and left the house in a rush to pick her mom up at Manny’s by 5:50. Her mom was standing by the curb and had the jeep’s door open before Josie had reached a complete stop. She hopped in, smelling like a mixture of perfume and hair spray and deodorant and lotion and all the other cosmetics she had no doubt applied.
“Lord have mercy, Josie. I’d have thought after all these years you’d have figured out how to get somewhere on time.”
Josie pulled away from the curb, drove to the stoplight, and turned left, heading a half mile out of town to the Artemis Fellowship Church.
“I have a job to do, Mom. I can’t just leave an investigation because I have a dinner date. It doesn’t work that way.”
“You know I hate walking into somewhere late.”
If there was one thing Josie could say about her mother, she was punctual, preferably ten minutes early to any function. Josie preferred to walk in on time so she could avoid the inevitable small talk that came with early arrival.
After they parked, her mother chattered all the way through the parking lot and down the stairs to the large fellowship area and kitchen. At least fifty women were sitting in metal folding chairs around a dozen tables, smiling and talking amicably. Josie spotted two empty chairs, side by side near the middle of the room, so she and her mother wove their way through and took a seat, smiling at the women across from them.
Her mother put her hand out to the woman sitting on her left and introduced herself as Josie nodded and smiled to the vaguely familiar-looking woman on her right. Then she glanced across the table to find Melissa Chang looking awkwardly away, like she was searching for someone in the crowd. Josie had tangled with her about a year ago when the twenty-something-year-old woman had called the police to report a tree down in the middle of the road. Josie had driven right over and found a limb that she easily dragged off to the side of the road. Melissa still hadn’t left her car, and Josie had asked her why she hadn’t moved it herself.
Melissa had looked at Josie, obviously shocked by the question. “I’m wearing my work clothes! That’s why we have city employees. My taxpayer dollars pay your salary so you can take care of these issues. I did my civic duty.”
“Your taxpayer dollars pay employees to take care of things that other citizens can’t take care of. Your civic duty would have been to get out of the car and move the tree branch yourself.”
The altercation ended in a summons to Mayor Moss’s office and an official reprimand in her employee file. Now here the woman sat in front of her, looking everywhere but directly across the table in Josie’s direction. This was exactly the reason she hated public functions.
Fortunately, Caroline Moss was introduced a few minutes later. In a form-fitting little black dress that showed her curves without being inappropriate for a church setting, she graciously accepted the room’s applause. Tasteful gold jewelry glinted off her neck and ears and wrists, and her blond hair fell softly around her shoulders as she thanked the “fine women of Arroyo County” for coming.
Caroline talked for the next thirty minutes about the “good works” taking place in Artemis and Arroyo County, much of which was being conducted by women “just like you,” she said to a rousing round of applause. Josie smiled and clapped and wished she could text Marta to see how the doctor’s visit was going with Isabella.
“She’s not much of a speaker, is she?” her mom whispered into her ear.
Josie turned and glared at her mom. “Wait till we’re in the car.”
“I’m just saying. She needs some humor or something. I’m about ready to nod off.”
Josie wondered if this was her future: sitting through interminable mother-daughter banquets with a mother who’d lost her filter.
Caroline then introduced half a dozen speakers, each of whom conducted charitable works through her umbrella group, Arroyo County Missions and Outreach. Supper was finally served and another round of speakers took the podium, this time people who had received funding of some kind from the group. By the time Josie had eaten her chocolate cake, she’d decided on a plan to keep the evening from being a total washout.