A Justified Murder (Medlar Mystery #2)(33)

“How bad is the Niederman book?” Kate asked.

“He’s not a bad writer, but the plot is like every other detective novel. You can get away with bad writing, but you must have a good plot. I can’t imagine that anyone will publish it as it is.”

Kate considered that for a moment as Sara and Jack stared at her. “Jack’s right. We owe Arthur so we have to go today. And you have to tell him the truth about his book. He helped us so much with the Morris case and critiquing his novel was the price.”

“I know,” Sara said, “but I bloody well don’t want to do it.”

Jack put his arm around her small shoulders. He was over a foot taller than she. “We’ll be right there with you. I have to go to work now so I can protect Gil from himself, but I’ll be back before it’s time to leave.” He kissed the top of her head.

“Hope you have a good day,” Kate said.

Jack turned his face to the side and tapped his cheek, meaning for her to kiss him goodbye.

Kate hesitated.

“How’s your mom?” he asked. He was reminding her that he’d helped her last night.

She kissed his cheek.

“Ah, at last. I think I’ll shellac over that spot so it never goes away.”

Smiling, Kate shook her head. “I’ll meet you back here no later than 3:45 and we’ll go to tea.”

“Think I should wear my pinafore?”

“Yes. The pink dotted swiss. Or maybe the lilac chiffon. Or the yellow—”

Laughing, Jack went out the back way to the garage.

As soon as they were alone, Sara said, “What’s up with your mother? Throwing a fit for you to return to her?”

“Actually, it’s the opposite.” As Kate ate her cereal, she told her aunt the story, including what Jack said.

Kate knew her mother and her aunt didn’t like each other, so she expected Aunt Sara to say something sarcastic. But she didn’t. In fact, she didn’t even mention the mystery of why Ava Medlar was so happy in New York. Instead, she talked about what a wise and caring person Jack was.

Maybe Jack wasn’t her biological grandchild, but Sara treated him as though he was. Loved him like he was.

Minutes later, Kate left for work. When she was told that Tayla was taking the day off, she breathed in relief. She wouldn’t have to deal with her boss’s histrionics. She had a young couple who wanted to move to Lachlan so she was to show them eight houses, and take them to lunch. She hoped she’d get done by three thirty.

She got home at three forty and Sara and Jack were waiting for her. It was already decided that they’d go in Jack’s truck and he would drive.

Aunt Sara looked so glum that Kate wanted to say she didn’t have to go. In the truck, they were a silent trio.

Arthur Niederman was just a few years younger than Sara and they had gone to the same high school. He liked to tell how Sara had never so much as looked at him. Her eyes were only on Callum Wyatt, Jack’s grandfather. Arthur said Sara was always hurrying home after school because she had to “take care of” her younger brother, Randal, Kate’s father. Kate had asked Aunt Sara what that meant. His mother didn’t have an outside job, so why was Sara required to look after him?

When her aunt quickly changed the subject, Kate was reminded of how extraordinarily good Aunt Sara was at avoiding questions about her younger brother.

“You brought his manuscript?” Jack looked across Kate sitting in the middle.

Sara nodded, but said nothing.

Kate squeezed her forearm in reassurance. When Arthur Niederman was a young man he’d fallen off the roof of a warehouse owned by some big company. He never walked again. Since the accident was the company’s fault, a lawyer showed up the day after Arthur fell and offered his services to sue. Arthur easily won and was awarded millions. He was in a wheelchair, but he lived comfortably in his lovely house with his books and his garden.

During the summer, Kate had stopped by several times to visit him. He was an excellent observer of people and she loved to hear about what he’d seen and heard.

“When you’re in a wheelchair,” he’d said, “it’s as though people think you’ve lost all your senses, including your hearing. Couples have arguments while standing right next to me. If a walking person goes by, they shut up. I seem to be invisible.”

Kate had grown quite fond of the man.

By the time they reached his house, Sara looked like she was on her way to a guillotine.

Arthur didn’t wait for them to knock, but was sitting by the open door. He was a tall man and kept the upper half of his body in good shape. He had strong arms from pushing the big wheels on his chair. Kate knew that a nurse came twice a week to give him massages and work his legs. For his household needs, he used delivery services.

She kissed both his cheeks. “How are you? How are the Vandas you ordered?” Arthur had a screened porch full of orchids.

“Happy and blooming.” He led them to the dining room where a long table was covered with plates of food.

As Kate looked at the table, she laughed. “You lovely scoundrel. Look what you did.”

The food was divided into three sections and labeled. One was low calorie for Kate. Little round slivers of bread piled high with slices of cucumber, chocolate muffins hardly bigger than her thumb, a bowl of tiny wild strawberries. For Jack there were thick beef and pastrami sandwiches and cold beer. At the end was for Sara. Her keto diet’s no-sugar and no-carbs rules had been obeyed. Bacon wrapped around asparagus, almond flour scones with whipping cream, salmon with sour cream and sprigs of dill.