Chapter Eighteen
Minutes later, Sam was back home. Arlo greeted her enthusiastically, nuzzling her leg as she walked inside.
Her phone rang. Sam glanced at the screen, smiling when she saw Ginny’s name there. Ginny was the president of the local agility club that she and Arlo belonged to. Arlo loved the exercise and the interaction with the other dogs there. And Sam liked all the club members. “Hi Ginny,” she said.
“Hey there! Pixie is losing her mind with boredom, so I decided to make an impromptu Saturday afternoon agility gathering. Are you and Arlo in?”
Pixie was Ginny’s Jack Russell, and she had just about as much energy as Ginny did, which was saying something.
At first, Sam didn’t think she felt like she could rise to the occasion.
Then she realized it might be just what she needed.
And it would be good for Arlo, too. He was smiling his doggy grin at her, tail wagging as if he somehow knew who was on the other end of the phone.
“Sure. Right now?”
“Come on by!” said Ginny. “I’ve already called some of the others. See you soon.”
It wasn’t long before Arlo and Sam joined the group in the golden light of the late afternoon.
The dogs were playing freely on the field.
Dave’s border collie, Rocket, was fruitlessly trying to herd everyone while Ziggy, the whippet, was making huge loops on the field.
Arlo was trying to keep up on his short legs.
Sam felt herself laughing, feeling the tension slowly releasing from her body.
No one was talking about murder, either. They were talking about the types of dog food they were giving their animals, about agility training and how their dogs were doing with it, and Sam’s young friend, Franklin’s, agility course that he’d made behind the community center.
Lucy, Ziggy’s owner, approached Sam with a couple of water bottles and Ziggy at her heels. “Sam, do you have a minute? I need to bounce something off you.”
“Sure, no problem, Lucy. What’s up?”
She leaned forward. “I hope you don’t mind me being nosy. But I heard you were at Charlotte’s bookstore when Margaret was found. I’m sorry. Was she a friend of yours?”
Sam thought wryly that she should have known she couldn’t completely stay away from talk about the murders.
She still hadn’t gotten used to living in a small town and how quickly gossip could spread.
“No, Margaret was a new acquaintance of mine. We were in book club together. But it was still very shocking.”
Lucy nodded, looking sober. “I bet it was. It’s hard to believe something like that could happen in Sunset Ridge. And in Twice-Told Tales, of all places.” She paused. “I didn’t know Margaret, but I’d kind of gotten a bad impression of her. Was she always hard to get along with?”
“She could be, I think. Margaret had sort of a prickly personality from what I could tell.”
Lucy said, “I saw Margaret recently, as a matter of fact.”
“When did you see her?”
“It was just a day or two before she died. I was walking Ziggy through downtown after we’d hit the trails. Margaret was arguing with Claire Mills. Do you know her?”
Sam said, “Yes, she’s our book club president.” She frowned. “Could you hear what they were arguing over?”
“Not much. Of course, I was trying to act like I wasn’t listening in.
Margaret said something about Claire should be thankful for her honesty.
But Claire didn’t look thankful at all. She was crying.
Like, a lot.” Lucy made a face. “I was wondering if I should say something to the police. I feel like I’m the town busybody.
I know I had to talk to the cops about something during that last investigation, too. ”
“You’re just someone who’s really observant and who covers a lot of ground with those long walks of yours. It’s not like you’re trying to impose yourself in the middle of other people’s business.”
“Well, it sure feels that way,” said Lucy wryly. “Anyway, I thought I’d bounce that off you. See what you thought. I guess I’ll give a statement to the police. I just hate doing it because Claire has always been really nice to me. I feel like I’m throwing her under the bus.”
“No, she’s already on the police radar as a member of book club. And I think they’d appreciate getting a little more perspective on who had issues with Margaret.”
Lucy nodded, looking relieved. “Okay. Thanks, Sam. I feel better about it.” She stood up. “Come on, Ziggy. Let’s see if you can keep up with Rocket.”
The whippet bounded around her, and Sam watched them rejoin the group. Across the field, Ginny was orchestrating what looked like an impromptu game of chase, with Pixie yapping orders at dogs three times her size.
“She’s trying to herd Rocket,” Dave called out, laughing. “A Jack Russell herding a border collie. I’ve seen everything now.”
“Pixie’s got aspirations,” said Ginny. “She’s management material.”
Sam felt the last of the tension drain from her shoulders as she watched Arlo flop down in the grass, tongue lolling, clearly exhausted but happy. He looked cute but funny with his short legs sticking out at odd angles.
“Arlo’s done,” Dave observed, walking over. “That’s his ‘I gave it my all’ pose.”
“He did give it his all,” Sam agreed. “About fifteen minutes of it.”
“Hey, that’s impressive for a dog who’s basically half basset hound, half fluff.”
Sam laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days. This was exactly what she’d needed; dogs being ridiculous, friends making terrible jokes, and an hour where murder wasn’t the main topic of conversation.
Well, mostly not the main topic.
By the time Sam and Arlo made it home, the sun was setting and Arlo was moving at approximately half his normal speed. He’d given everything to keep up with the athletic dogs and was now paying the price.
“I know, buddy,” Sam said, unlocking the front door. “You’re not built for marathon running. But you had fun, right?”
Arlo’s tail gave one tired wag before he trotted straight to his bed and collapsed.
Sam smiled as she headed to the kitchen.
Her appetite was starting to return. But were she and Aiden still going out to supper?
It had been a really heavy afternoon for both of them.
Her stomach, though, made protesting noises.
Maybe a small snack would be the best course of action until she knew for sure.
But the fates weren’t interested in Sam getting to eat. The doorbell rang. Arlo lifted his head from his bed, gave a half-hearted “woof,” then put his head back down. Clearly, he was off duty.
Through the front window, Sam saw a familiar silhouette on her porch. And an even more familiar pit bull shape beside it.
She opened the door to find Nora holding a covered dish, Precious straining at the leash. The pit bull was wearing what appeared to be a burgundy smoking jacket with black satin lapels.
“Wellness check,” said Nora crisply, sweeping past Sam before she could respond. “I hear you were on the scene at the bank. I brought soup.”
“Nora, I . . . ”
“Don’t Nora me. I saw your car pull up a while back, and I figured you’d be standing there staring at your refrigerator like it might spontaneously generate a meal.”
It was very close to what she’d been doing. Nora could be astoundingly perceptive.
“Now, you don’t have to eat it right this second. But it’s here for you when you want it.” Nora briskly walked over to the fridge and stuck it in.
Precious trotted over to Arlo’s bed. Arlo opened one eye, assessed the situation, and apparently decided Precious wasn’t worth getting up for. Precious settled down beside him, smoking jacket and all.
“Those two,” Nora said, shaking her head. “Precious has been moping around all day. I think he missed his friend.” She turned to face Sam with gleaming eyes. “Now. Gerald Parker. At the bank.”
“You know everything that happens in this town, don’t you?”
“Not everything. But I’ll get there. You look exhausted. What happened?” Nora peered at her. “I’m right, aren’t I? You look peaked. You haven’t eaten, have you?”
Sam’s stomach chose that moment to growl, answering for her.
“That’s what I thought. I can heat up that soup right now. It’ll be perfect with some buttery crackers.”
Sam said, “Maybe in a few minutes, but thanks. On a totally different topic, any updates on the online dating front since the last time we talked about it?”
“I met someone.” Nora’s smile was cautiously optimistic.
“He doesn’t seem as awful as the other guy I met.
This one’s name is Harold. He’s a retired accountant, and he’s actually normal.
We had coffee together this morning, and he hasn’t once tried to explain cryptocurrency to me or tell me I remind him of his ex-wife. ”
“Hey, that’s wonderful, Nora!”
“We’re taking it slow. Very slow. But I think I might actually like this one.
We shall see.” Nora paused. “Though I have to say, after everything that’s happened with Margaret and Gerald, it’s made me appreciate that life’s too short to waste time on people who don’t make you happy.
Which reminds me. When are you going to do something about that handsome teacher of yours?
Sam felt her cheeks warm. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Sure you don’t.” Nora’s eyes twinkled.
The doorbell rang again.
Nora’s eyebrows shot up, and her expression transformed into delighted nosiness. “Expecting someone?”
“Not really.” It wasn’t yet time for Aiden to come by, if he was coming by at all. Sam headed for the door, wondering who else might show up on her porch.
She opened the door to find Aiden standing there with several takeout bags, looking slightly sheepish.
“I figured you probably hadn’t eaten,” he said. “I brought some takeout from the Thai place. I thought maybe tonight wasn’t the best night for us to go out to dinner.” He paused, spotting Nora in the background, her face infused with pure matchmaking satisfaction.
“Well, hello, Aiden,” purred Nora.
Aiden flushed a little. “I just thought Sam might need something to eat.”
“Great minds think alike.” Nora gathered Precious with suspicious speed. “I was just leaving. You two enjoy your . . . dinner.” Her eyes gleamed at Sam.
At the door, she turned to give Sam a stage whisper. “He brought Thai food. Keep this one.” Then, she and Precious exited with a flourish, leaving them alone.
––––––––
AIDEN GAVE A LOPSIDED smile. “Should I apologize for chasing off Nora?”
“Are you kidding? She’ll be gossiping about this for weeks. You’ve made her day.”
Aiden made himself at home in her kitchen, bringing out plates, napkins, and pouring ice water. He hesitated. “Would you like some wine? I feel silly offering you your own wine, but I forgot to bring some.”
“You know, a glass of wine would actually be perfect right now. I’ll grab it.”
Aiden said, “No, I’ve got it. Just relax wherever you want us to eat. I’ll bring it all in.”
Sam walked into the living room, feeling slightly chilled, maybe from tiredness. Her stomach growled again, complaining about its emptiness more audibly. She turned on the gas fireplace as Aiden made several trips into the room with food and drinks.
She gave him a rueful look. “I do sometimes eat at the table, I promise. But I don’t think I feel up to it tonight.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” He sat next to her on the long sofa. Arlo, perking up from his bed for just a moment, decided to hop up between them, falling promptly asleep again as they smiled at each other.
Aiden glanced over at the book on the coffee table. “Still working through Middlemarch?”
Sam looked at the book, covered with color-coded sticky tabs. “I’m on page 387 now.”
Aiden studied the setup on the coffee table. The book, three different colored pens, and a small stack of index cards with character names. “You’ve added index cards since we talked about it.”
“They help me track the relationships.”
Aiden’s smile was gentle. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“I’m compulsive.”
“You’re thorough. But still totally amazing.”
They ate their food in comfortable silence, watching the fire.
Then Aiden talked lightly about other things: the essays he needed to grade soon, an upcoming parent conference, how he’d gotten his yard ready for winter.
Sam listened, nodding, as she quickly ate her food.
Neither of them wanted to talk about the day.
After they’d finished, Aiden cleaned up the kitchen, loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Then he said, “I’m going to head on out. What do you think about moving our dinner to tomorrow night? Our real dinner.”
“I’d like that.”
Aiden’s hand found hers, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. Then he gave her a brief kiss on the forehead. “Get some sleep. See you tomorrow.”
Sam watched him from the window as he walked to his car.