Murder by Yew (An Edna Davies Mystery #1)(30)

She left the kitchen and was about to turn toward the front door when she remembered her easel and the sketch of the aloe. Competing with Dee for the one opening in Greenthumbs was going to be stiff enough with Dee’s superior knowledge of poisons and potions. Edna’s only edge might be the artwork she’d use in her presentation, and she didn’t want Dee to see it beforehand.

Hurrying to the living room, she had just enough time to pull a few blank sheets from behind the pad and place them on top of the aloe drawing before the doorbell rang. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, looked in the mirror, and used the kitchen towel to clean up her tear-stained makeup before opening the front door.

“I heard what happened to Tom Greene,” Dee said without preamble, slipping past Edna into the hallway. “I came by to offer my condolences. He seemed to be a good friend of yours.” She hesitated, a small smile stretching her mouth but not reaching her eyes. “I mean, besides being your handyman.” She wore a black leather miniskirt and white blouse with billowy sleeves beneath a red leather jerkin, black net stockings, and three-inch stiletto heels. A number of bracelets jingled on her wrists, and multiple gold loops dangled from her ears. The scent of jasmine pervaded the air around her.

Following her unwanted guest into the house, Edna tried to think of something to say. Indignation over the rudeness of this intrusion left her momentarily speechless, but before Edna could catch up with her, Dee quickened her pace and entered the living room. “Why, look what you’ve done.”

They stopped in front of the easel at the same moment and with a start, Edna realized what had happened. In her haste to pull paper from behind the sketch pad, she had grabbed Tom’s portrait as well. The blank sheet on top had fallen to the floor, exposing his picture. At least the Greenthumbs drawings were still hidden, she thought after her initial shock.

When Dee reached for the paper, Edna put a restraining hand on her arm. “It’s not finished. Please don’t touch it.”

“It’s a stunning likeness.” Dee clasped her hands together and raised them to her chin. She glanced at Edna, her eyes filled with amusement. “Doesn’t your husband object to your portraying the other men in your life?”

“What are you talking about?” Edna felt her temper rise, wanting to slap the smirk from Dee’s face. “I have studied faces for years and have painted any number of portraits. Albert admires my work.” Does she know the police were here to question me? Edna wondered. I bet she thinks the Greenthumbs membership is hers for the asking now. A mixture of guilt and resentment dissolved what little was left of Edna’s patience. “I’m sorry, Dee, but you’ve come at a bad time. I was just getting ready to leave.”

“Oh. Are you going shopping? Maybe I can tag along, help you pick out something a little sexier.” She glanced at Edna’s Pendleton slacks and silk blouse as if they had come from a bargain basement. “We can talk about what to do with your hair.”

Edna was nearly apoplectic at the woman’s insensitivity. “I’m not going shopping. I’m driving to Boston to see my daughter.” She took Dee’s arm and gently but firmly turned her around.

“Perhaps tomorrow …” Dee began, trying to wrench out of Edna’s grasp.

“I’ll be away the entire weekend,” Edna interrupted. The more Dee struggled, the tighter Edna clasped her upper arm. As she opened the front door and almost propelled Dee out onto the step, she said. “It would be best if you call next time.”

Edna was shaking as she slammed the door. She was not used to treating another person so rudely, but when she recalled Dee’s remarks and insolent manner, she almost laughed thinking about the look of utter surprise on the woman’s face.

Rid of her unwanted company, Edna marched back to the kitchen to finish disposing of the food. In the living room, she picked up the fallen sheet of paper and propped it in front of Tom’s portrait again. Since Dee’s arrival had made her late, Edna decided to leave the rest of the cleanup until her return. She grabbed her overnight case and hurried to the car. Only when she was on the road did she remember that she had intended to call Albert and let him know she’d be with Starling for the weekend. Oh, well, she thought, I’ll call him from Boston.

The slap, slap, slap of the windshield wipers was mesmerizing as they swished away the light but steady rain. I’ve made a mess of things, she thought, driving north to pick up Interstate 95.

“Albert leaves me alone for the first time in our married life and look what I’ve done.” She spoke to the windshield, feeling close to tears, thinking of Albert’s mischievous blue eyes and shock of white hair. “He’s going to be very angry with me.”

In her mind, she pictured the sparkle leaving Albert’s eyes and a frown deepening as his wide mouth turned down at the corners. “He already thinks I’m too forgetful. Well, maybe I am at times, but I know I didn’t put toxic ingredients in my tea. I really have been very careful with Mrs. Rabichek’s recipes.” Speaking the words aloud made her feel better but didn’t succeed in convincing her completely. Had she mistaken one plant for another? Had mixing liquids together created a poison? “What have I done?” she moaned before focusing her attention back onto her driving.

She stared hard at the wet road, leaning forward over the steering wheel as she merged into traffic on Route 95. When she was safely in the middle lane and had settled into the flow of the other cars, her mind strayed back to her dilemma. “What if they send me to jail?” she spoke again to the windshield. The thought was so horrifying, she refused to consider it. Turning on the radio, she concentrated on her favorite classical station for the remainder of the trip, trying to identify each instrument as music surrounded her, a trick she used to distract herself from worry.