Diva Runs Out Of Thyme

Exactly what I was thinking. “Eight thirty in the morning early enough?”

“Have coffee ready.”

The bright lights of an oncoming vehicle lit the street. I swiveled around but still didn’t see the person who’d been following Natasha. I could only hope our presence discouraged him and that he wasn’t tailing Natasha now.

We watched as the oncoming car pulled over to the curb and parked and the colonel stepped out and walked around the car to open the passenger door like a gentleman. I felt a weight fall off me when June hopped out, safe and sound.

She waved at us. “Hi, girls.”

The colonel escorted her to the front door of my house. They kept their voices too low for me to make out what they were saying, but there was no mistaking the good-night kiss they shared.

Nina elbowed me like we were little kids spying on a big sister. “Isn’t that sweet?” she whispered. She turned and punched me in the shoulder. “Why didn’t we introduce him to my monster-in-law? She’d have forgotten all about me.”

“Did she figure out that you didn’t cook dinner?”

“Francie distracted her. I don’t think she gave it any thought. Hmm. Do we know any other single men their age?”

Grinning at the thought of matchmaking for her demanding mother-in-law, I said good night and headed home, passing the colonel as he crossed the street to his house. Despite the cold, he was humming.

By the time I reached the kitchen, June was entertaining everyone with tales from her date. “He’s so refined. We ate in an exotic Moroccan restaurant—with our fingers! You should have seen the belly dancer.” She lifted her arms and waved them around as she glided across the floor.

While June changed out of her pretty dress, Hannah helped me put out spiced nuts, nachos, zesty homemade salsa, crackers, and a heavenly soft goat cheese with Italian herbs. I licked a dab that clung to my finger and was tempted to scoop up more of the tangy mixture to lick. Dad mixed a batch of his famous whiskey sours and poured a Scotch for Craig.

We passed the rest of the evening playing cards. Craig lost more often than anyone else and after a while, I suspected that he was losing on purpose. It didn’t matter, but it piqued my curiosity. Did he think he would win us over by losing?

Normally, I’d have stayed up with Hannah, but tonight I went up to bed when June and my parents retired, hoping it didn’t mean age was creeping up on me too fast. Chalking my fatigue up to the murders and the hectic pace of Thanksgiving Day, I gratefully snuggled between my down comforter and my feather bed. Daisy nestled at the foot of the bed and Mochie pawed at me until I lifted the comforter and he could crawl underneath it.

I woke briefly around one o’clock and thought I heard Bernie walking around downstairs but drifted off again quickly.

In the morning, I thought I was the first one up, but I could hear soft murmuring when I reached the bottom of the stairs. June sat by a small fire in the kitchen fireplace, talking again. To Faye, I presumed. I said, “Good morning,” and started breakfast. My presence didn’t seem to bother June. Mochie jumped into her lap and except for the fact that she was talking to a dead person, it made for a sweet scene.

Nina showed for surveillance duty at a quarter past eight. Clad in black jeans, a zip-front black velour top that clung to her curves and black running shoes dotted with rhinestones, she stood at my kitchen counter pouring organic breakfast blend coffee into a stainless-steel travel mug.

As I entered the kitchen she glanced over her shoulder at me and nearly spilled the coffee. “You have to be kidding! Who knew there was a uniform for sleuths?”

I had dressed the same way, except my black sweatshirt hung loosely, disguising any shape beneath, and little gold stars decorated my shoes. “Pour me one of those, too, will you?”

I wrapped leftover croissants in aluminum foil and stuffed them into a canvas tote along with a bag of organic white cheddar cheese puffs.

“Where’s the wedding party?”

“Upstairs, getting dressed. Even Bernie was up early this morning.”

Nina carried the coffee, I carried the snack tote, and we left quickly, before we had to explain our plans to anyone. At the hotel where Mars and Natasha were staying, Nina took a parking ticket and circled slowly through the dim garage in search of Natasha’s robin’s-egg blue Lexus.

“Do you have a signature color?” I asked.

Nina sputtered. “A what?”

“Like Natasha. Everything is robin’s-egg blue. Her Christmas card last year was in shades of green with touches of red but she still managed to get one tiny bit of robin’s-egg blue in the picture. It’s her signature color.”

Nina sniffled as though she were crying. “I wanted robin’s-egg blue but it was taken. I can’t believe it has a name,” she muttered. “I just thought Natasha was obsessed with blue. Hey! We didn’t miss her. There’s her car.”