Lie, Lie Again(97)

Sylvia pulled into the lot for the neighborhood pet shop. A banner hung in the window that read CAT ADOPTIONS SATURDAY! Good thing it was Monday, or she might have been tempted. A cat would be nice. She hadn’t been joking when she’d told Hugh she wanted one. If all went as planned, maybe she’d come for a visit on Saturday. A bell jangled when she pushed through the door.

She headed straight for the counter, where a man who resembled an old basset hound sat. How fitting. “Hello.”

He raised his eyes from the newspaper he had been reading. It was in a foreign language that Sylvia couldn’t begin to decipher. “How can I help you?” he asked in choppy English that sounded like he was swallowing each word.

“I’d like to purchase a fish that’s easy to care for. One that lives in a bowl, not a tank.”

He pointed to an aisle behind her. “Halfway down, you see the bettas. That is what you look for.”

She thanked him and turned down the aisle. Stacked one on top of the other were small cups, each holding a single brightly colored fish. “Why are they in individual cups?” she called.

He peered over his round glasses. “The males. They will kill each other. They are the fighting fish.”

She grinned. Beautiful little killers. How perfect.

“I have this one.” He wagged a finger toward a shelf at the front of the aisle. “It is in a bowl already if you like to buy it.”

Even better. It was a bright-blue fish with a top fin that resembled a peacock’s plume. Tiny pink rocks rested on the bottom of the bubble-shaped bowl, and a plastic green leaf was anchored in the middle. She took it to the counter along with a container of food and paid in cash.

When she returned to her office, she placed the fish on the corner of her desk. “Don’t get too comfortable, buddy. This isn’t your new home,” she muttered. In the center of her desk, the same carrier pigeon printout sat with a new note taped to its beak. She removed the tape carefully and unfolded the single page.

Excellent! Do you like Nona’s Chicken and Waffles?

She tucked the note into her drawer and pulled out her phone.

Love it! Can’t wait.

Seconds later, he responded.

I’m pleased to see you’re utilizing a variety of the modes of communication I suggested.

I aim to please.

Lol. Counting down the minutes until tomorrow.



Two hours later, Sylvia was home. There was too much to do to stay at work until five. She’d told Miriam, her boss, she was feeling sick. She kept green concealer in her makeup kit for such occasions. It was meant to counteract redness, but she found if she applied a thin layer to her entire face with a makeup sponge followed by a dusting of loose powder, it had the effect of making her look pasty and ill. Of course, she used a shade of nude lipstick instead of her usual Lady Danger. With a tissue wadded in her hand, she’d gone to Miriam. There was something about a crumpled tissue that spoke volumes. No one wanted to get near it. She didn’t have to explain whether it was a cold or the flu. The tissue did the talking. Miriam told her to get some rest, and that was the end of it. She was free to leave.

She walked down the long driveway to her apartment. A half-naked Kylie was hunched over the handlebars of her tricycle, pedaling toward her with fierce determination.

“Whoa! Slow down, there, speedy!”

Kylie laughed and skidded her feet to the ground, stopping the little trike. “I go fast, Miss Sylvie!”

“Yes, you do! I thought you were going to mow me over for a second there.”

She slid off the tricycle and rounded it proudly, as though it were a fancy sports car. Sylvia held back a laugh. The little girl was clad in Finding Nemo underpants, light-up sneakers, and a plastic gold tiara. Nothing else.

Embry flew from her yard. “Kylie! Did you run into Miss Sylvia?”

“No, no,” Sylvia called. “She came to a full and complete stop upon seeing me. I believe she deserves a good-driver award today. And perhaps a fashion award.”

Kylie giggled and resumed riding her tricycle, making big circles in the driveway.

Embry smiled. “It was so nice outside, I figured I’d let her get a little sunshine on her skin.” She was dressed in yoga pants and a basic T-shirt, but she positively glowed. Pregnancy agreed with her. Lucky woman.

“It is a nice day.”

“You’re home earlier than usual, aren’t you? Is everything okay?” Her tone was loaded with worry.

“To be honest, I wasn’t feeling well.” She patted a hand to her stomach. “Though it very likely could be stress.”

“You poor thing. I keep thinking about that ex of yours. Is he still bothering you?”

“I wish I could say he stopped, but it’s only gotten worse. I may have to file a restraining order.” It was so easy to lie about Hugh. In fact, it felt good to talk about him like he was someone to fear. She was acting as karma’s right-hand gal.

“Oh no! We’re here for you—however we can help.” She looked down and twisted her hands. “Speaking of helping, do you still need me to do the thing tonight? Asking about Nadine and all?”

“Yes. I think it’s the only way. You don’t mind, do you, being that our homes are at stake?”

“No! It’s just a little weird. But as long as you think it’ll work.”