Deadly Reunion by Mary Bowers

Author:Mary Bowers [Bowers, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-11-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Since they knew the way to Tropical Breeze, I met them in front of Sharla’s. Coco was radiant in a little romper that should have been ridiculous on a woman her age, but wasn’t. She’d always had good legs, and the more of them she showed off, the better she looked, and she knew it.

“Where did you get those espadrilles?” I asked. They were exaggerated classics: faded blue-and-white striped canvas with fabric ankle straps that wrapped around and tied in a bow. The romper, of course, was the exact same shade of faded blue. The pedicure looked fresh, the manicure matched. Only in magazine ads do women actually dress like that, and she was runway-perfect enough to draw looks, which was the whole point, I guess. Sharla would be impressed.

They were both carrying coffee cups from Perks, across the street. I decided once I got them started (I fully expected this to take hours), I’d run across Locust and grab a cappuccino to keep me going until lunchtime. After that, I was leaving them so I could get back to the shelter and get some work done before the big night.

Patty looked like she’d just stepped out of the tumbrel and was bracing for the guillotine. Death, her eyes seemed to say, would be a welcome release.

“Well,” Coco said brilliantly, “here we go.”

We stepped into Sharla’s and looked around.

* * * * *

I don’t spend much time in Sharla’s. My wardrobe is focused on comfort, washability and ease of movement, since most of the time I’m working at the shelter. For nights out, I have a few cool, breezy dresses that are easy to accessorize and pretty enough to keep Michael interested.

I’d been glancing through my own closet that morning, thinking it over, and while I was looking through the jewelry box, I’d noticed a pendant on a long chain. It was the figure of a cat in bluish-green faience, and it happened to be laying face up, solemnly sentient, waiting. It represented the cat goddess, Bastet. Once I saw it, I couldn’t look away.

I reached for it, picked it up, ran the chain through my fingers and stared into the eyes that seemed to gaze back. There was music behind those eyes, but I couldn’t quite hear it. My eyelashes fluttered; I worked to stay focused. Mysterious etchings ran around the cat’s long neck, and for the first time, I wondered what they meant.

A friend had given that pendant to me, just after she had died. At least, that’s how it had seemed. After the matriarch of the Cadbury family, Vesta Cadbury Huntington, died, her collection of Egyptiana had been donated to Girlfriend’s. A volunteer had brought that pendant to me, out of the heap of rings, brooches and small figurines, and I had simply taken it and put it on. For months, I had worn it every day, sometimes even wearing it through the night. But one day I had simply forgotten to put it on, and one day became two, two became three.

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