Nine Lives (Lily Dale Mystery #1)(76)


“I didn’t drop them on the floor. They were there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yesterday, when I came upstairs to look for Chance the Cat. There were papers all over the floor.”

“So you didn’t take them out of the closet? Off the shelf?”

“I can’t reach that high.”

“I thought you climbed on a chair.”

“You said never to do that.”

That doesn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t. But something tells her that he didn’t.

Who did?

*

“Boys! Slow down!” Bella calls, her stubbed pinky throbbing as she chases after Max and Jiffy, who roll along the bumpy road on a pair of scooters.

No surprise that the sleeker one is in the lead. It’s red and belongs to Jiffy. Barefoot, he rides along with carefree abandon—as carefree as he can be, anyway, after grudgingly putting on the helmet Bella made him wear.

That helmet, like the one on Max’s head, was found in the garage of the Ardens’ rental house. So was the scooter Max is riding. It’s a decidedly older model with faded blue paint, but he was thrilled when Jiffy brought it to the door at lunchtime and asked if he wanted to ride it.

“Can I, Mom?”

“Not outside by yourself.”

“Don’t worry. I’m going with him.”

“I mean an adult,” she told Jiffy. “I’ll come, too.”

“Is that okay?” Max asked Jiffy, who shrugged.

“You can’t ride a scooter without a helmet,” she added.

Jiffy shook his gingery head, his hair as badly in need of a haircut as Max’s. “I don’t think it’s against the law.”

“It’s against mine. We’ll have to pick one up at the store later on.”

From the ever-resourceful—or just increasingly impatient—Jiffy: “I think there are some helmets in my garage. Odelia said some kids used to live there a long time ago. So let’s go get one.”

They did just that—although they got two helmets. Jiffy was slightly less accommodating when he discovered that Bella’s law applies to him, too. But one of his finest qualities is that he’s resilient.

That must come in handy in a place like this, with a life—and a mom—like his. When Bella suggested that Jiffy tell her they were off to ride scooters, he explained that she was behind closed doors with a client.

“I’m not s’posed to disturb her unless I’m bleeding,” he said cheerfully.

That comment reminded Bella of the morning’s stressful events, but she was determined to put it all aside for a little while. Steve and Eleanor had yet to reemerge from behind their closed bedroom door when she left. Nor, for that matter, had Grant.

She was glad for an excuse to get out of the house with Max. It was starting to feel claustrophobic as the day wore on. She’d gone over to Odelia’s earlier, planning to ask to borrow her car to make a quick supermarket trip, but a sign was hanging on the door:

Do Not Disturb. Reading in Session.



It was just as well. She was afraid she might slip and mention what had happened to Steve or that she’d seen Luther this morning. She isn’t sure that it’s a good idea to tell even Odelia about that—if she doesn’t already know.

The cold shower and coffee overload might not have banished her exhaustion, but this fresh air and exercise have done her a world of good.

In an effort to avoid the pedestrians and traffic streaming toward the auditorium for the much-anticipated afternoon speaker, she’d initially guided the boys and their scooters to a playground at the end of Fourth Street. They played for a while on the swings and slide and then hunted for signs of buried treasure in an adjacent field bordered by woodland.

Watching them—kids acting like kids—she almost managed to forget about all the drama back at the house. But now it’s time to head back, with only another twenty minutes to go until the next kitten feeding. At least the crowd has thinned considerably along these sun-dappled streets—many of which are little more than narrow pathways between abbreviated rows of cottages.

She catches up with the boys at the corner as they’re studying a sign outside a small café. It shows a double-scoop waffle cone emblazoned with the words “Perry’s Ice Cream.”

“Can we get some, Mom?” Max asks.

“I don’t know if I even have money with me.”

“Don’t worry, I have some.” Jiffy fishes in the pocket of his shorts and comes up with a dime and a couple of pennies.

Bella feels around in her own pockets. Along with her cell phone and key ring, she finds evidence of her chaotic morning: Luther’s business card, the crumpled bloody paper towel from her cut finger, and the socks she didn’t need after all. She also comes up with a couple of dollars and some loose change, which Jiffy, who seems to be a regular at the café, assures her is enough to buy two ice cream cones.

One nice thing about Lily Dale is that he’s probably right. After living in one of the costliest areas in the country, Bella is noticing that she’d be able to afford a much nicer lifestyle here than she ever could back in Bedford. If she had a job, that is. And if she could possibly live here.

One nice thing . . .

There are other nice things, she notices as she stands around beside the parked scooters, holding the two helmets and waiting for the boys to emerge with their ice cream.

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