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"It sure is," he said. "It says so right on the box."
I took a sip, then poured a little warmed syrup on the pancake and devoured it in record time.
He smiled at me as I looked up. "There's nothing wrong with your appet.i.te, anyway."
"Just keep them coming," I said as he put another one onto my plate. "I missed dinner last night. I don't I know what I'm going to tell Greg."
"You don't have to worry about him," Bradford said. "We talked a bit last night when you were with the doctor."
"He came by the hospital to see me?" I asked, the bite on my fork temporarily forgotten.
"You can eat and listen at the same time," he said as he gestured to my food.
"Bradford, I'm serious."
"Okay, okay. I told him you were all right, and he said if that was true, he wanted to see you. For a minute there, I thought I was going to have to lock him up for disturbing the peace, but he finally listened to me. What is it with you two, anyway?"
"I wish I knew," I said. I wasn't looking forward to the conversation with Greg later. Knowing him, he'd want to reschedule our last supper together, but I'd had enough. I could barely manage to say no to him when I was at my strongest, and I wasn't anywhere close to that at the moment. Being shot at had that effect on me. No, it was time to end it with him once and for all.
Bradford glanced at the clock. "Is that time right?"
"Actually, it's five minutes slow. I keep resetting it, but somehow it keeps slowing down the exact same amount every time." I had a theory about my b.u.mbling poltergeist messing with the clock, but I wasn't about to share it with my levelheaded brother.
He took the last pancake off the griddle and turned off the stove. "I've got to roll. Are you going to be all right?"
"I always have been," I said. "You're the one who insisted on giving me police protection. By the way, how did you sleep?"
"You tell me. Did my snoring keep you awake?"
"To be honest with you, last night you could have practiced bagpipes in the living room and I don't think it would have kept me up."
He laughed. "I'm glad to see you're in good spirits."
"I just hope Bailey's okay," I said.
"You still care about what happens to him after last night?"
"Bradford, he didn't mean to put me in jeopardy, I just know it. Has anyone seen him yet?"
He shook his head. "I checked in ten minutes before you got up. There's no sign of him anywhere."
There was something my brother was keeping to himself. I could see it in his eyes.
"What is it?" I asked. "What are you not telling me?"
"Jennifer, an arrest warrant's been issued for him."
I dropped my fork. "You actually think he killed Eliza Glade?"
"I need to talk to him, and it looks like this is the only way I'm going to be able to get his attention."
"That wasn't the question," I said.
"Blast it all, woman, you do your job and let me do mine, okay?"
"Okay," I said as I stood and walked gingerly to him. I kissed his cheek, a move that clearly confused him.
"What was that for?"'
"Watch duty, a wonderful breakfast, looking out for your little sister. Take your pick."
He shook his head and laughed. "If I live to be a hundred, I'll never be able to figure you out."
"Call it my feminine mystique," I said.
"I'd rather call you nuts." As he walked to the door, Bradford said, "Lock this behind me, then keep your eyes open, okay? And don't push that wrist. You need to give it time to heal."
"Yes, sir," I said. It was all I could do not to salute, but I doubted he'd appreciate my humor.
After he was gone, I finished the last pancake, justifying it on the grounds that I'd missed dinner the night before, then I took a long, hot shower. I wished the apartment had a tub-a steaming soak would do me good-but I didn't have one here, or at my new address, either. Maybe I could talk Lillian into letting me borrow her Jacuzzi sometime. I took a quick shower, then after I dressed, I called Sara Lynn's place to see how the ladies had managed the night before.
To my surprise, Lillian answered the telephone.
"I'm really glad you stayed there last night," I said, wondering how my aunt's manner would be toward me this morning after our harsh exchange last night.
"Jennifer, how lovely to hear from you. How is your wrist?"
"It's good," I said, relieved my aunt had chosen to ignore what had happened. I'd been out of line with my comment, but then she'd made a few herself over the years, so I figured I was just catching up. Still, I'd have to watch what I said around her until the sting wore off. "Listen, I wanted to let you know that you can come in late if you want to. I'd be happy to open the shop by myself."
I knew that morning wasn't my aunt's favorite time of day, and I wanted to make the offer in recompense for the night before.
"Nonsense. Sara Lynn and I are commuting to work together this morning. I'm going to drop her off at the sc.r.a.pbooking store, and then I'll be at the card shop."
"That's wonderful," I said. I wasn't sure how Lillian had managed to convince Sara Lynn to carpool, but I was glad she had.
"I'll see you soon, then."
After I hung up, I gave Oggie and Nash their morning meal, then headed out the door. My wrist throbbed as I touched the handrail. At least I didn't have to carry anything bigger than my purse. Then I remembered that I had to move soon, and I wondered how in the world I would manage it with a tender wrist.
When I got to my Gremlin, I was surprised to see Bradford sitting beside it in his squad car. "I thought you already left."
"I did," he said, "but I decided to come back. I'm taking you to work today."
"Bradford, don't be silly. I'm perfectly capable of driving myself to work and back."
"I know, but if something happens to you when I'm not around, Lillian, Sara Lynn and Cindy are going to take turns killing me. Come on. Get in."
I wanted to fight him on it. After all, I cherished my independence. I also realized that I'd feel better sitting beside Bradford in his squad car than I would all alone in my Gremlin. "Okay, but you'll have to pick me up after work, too."
"I'd be delighted," he said. Bradford let me off in front of Custom Card Creations, and just as I opened the front door for business, Lillian came in behind me.
Before I could say a word, she said, "Jennifer, we need to talk about what happened last night."
Oh, no, one of the two conversations I wanted to avoid more than anything in the world was about to happen. "I'm so sorry about the way I spoke to you. I was under stress-not that it's any excuse."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
I looked at her to see if she was joking, but she was dead serious. "I called you selfish and ordered you around last night. Surely you haven't forgotten that."
"Jennifer, you're much too sensitive. I don't recall you being harsh."
Fine. If that was how she chose to recall it, I wasn't about to set her straight. "Then what do we need to discuss?"
"Sara Lynn wants to see you immediately. She's still sitting in my car, as a matter of fact."
"What's so important?"
"She wants to talk to you about her husband, of course. It took every ounce of energy I had last night to convince her that you needed your rest. She kept demanding to talk to you. Do you mind speaking with her?"
"Lillian, I understand completely. I'll be right back."
"Take your time," she said. "I'll open the shop. In fact, why don't you two take a drive while you talk?" She stunned me by handing me the keys to her precious Mustang.
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I am," she said.
"Thanks." I left before she could change her mind. Lillian had been fanatical about keeping her last car to herself, and I gave up all hope of ever driving one when she'd had to buy a brand-new one.
As I got into the driver's seat, Sara Lynn asked, "What are you doing? I don't want to go anywhere. I want to talk."
"Lillian gave me the keys. I'm not about to pa.s.s this up. She said you wanted to talk. So talk." I started the car and pulled out, just narrowly avoiding a bread truck. He blared his horn at me, and I saw Lillian's head pop up in the front window. I waved at her and drove off, knowing without a doubt that this was the first and last time I'd ever get the chance to drive one of her cars. My wrist was tender as I held the wheel, but I managed fine.
Sara Lynn asked me, "What happened at the restaurant?"
"Are you telling me our dear brother didn't tell you a thing last night?" It was just like him, avoiding conflict where he could, when it came to Sara Lynn and me.
"I want to hear your version," Sara Lynn said. "I've heard Bradford's account, but now I want it all straight from you."
She had that right, after all.
After I shared every bit of what I could remember, Sara Lynn asked, "Who was he talking about? Did you get any hint of who he had in mind?"
I shook my head. "He wouldn't say, and I knew better than to push him on it. Do you want to know the truth? I honestly think he was more worried about your reaction to him taking your emergency fund than he was about someone trying to kill him. He loves you, Sara Lynn."
"Of course he does," she snapped. "That's why I don't understand how foolish he was with Eliza."
"Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive him?" I asked softly. I knew how much my sister believed in loyalty, and Bailey had crossed a line that was hard to forget or erase.
"I'm trying, believe me. I still love him. That's why he's driving me so crazy. I don't know what to do."
I wanted to pat her shoulder, to offer her a hug or something, but if I wrecked Lillian's car, she'd have my hide for a seat cover in her next Mustang. "Can I do anything to help?"
"I'm afraid no one can," she said. "Thank you for asking, though."
"I'm here if you need me," I said.
After a few moments, my sister said, "Actually, there is one thing you can do for me, Jennifer."
"What's that? Just name it."
"Find out who really killed Eliza Glade," she said. "That's the only way I'm ever going to be able to work this out with Bailey."
"I'm trying," I said.
"Then try harder. Would you mind taking me to Forever Memories? I need to be among my favorite things right now."
"I understand completely," I said as I headed for her store. I found great comfort in my card-making supplies, and realized it would be the same for Sara Lynn.
I pulled up in front of her shop, and she leaned in and said, "You've got to help Bradford find out who did this."
"I promise, I'll do my best," I said. But as I drove down Oakmont to Custom Card Creations, I couldn't imagine what I could do that I hadn't already tried. One thing was certain: whoever had shot at Bailey and me must have suspected that now I knew his secret, too. That meant that I'd have to be especially careful if I didn't want my name on the hit list as well. I had a strong feeling that if I found out who killed Eliza, I'd know who took those shots last night.
Chapter 10.
Lillian was standing by the window, peering outside, when I drove up and parked in front of the shop. Before I could get out, she was there beside me. Her gaze scanned the paint job as I joined her and handed her the keys.
"That's one sweet ride," I said, grinning at her.
"Jennifer, you nearly gave me a heart attack."
"What are you talking about?"
"That bread truck," she said, nearly shouting.
"You're kidding. Lillian, he was the one who nearly hit me. Besides, it wasn't that close a call."
"You were near enough to smell his breath," she said.
"Would you forget about your car? It's fine."