Part 3 (1/2)
”How did you know?”
”When you came out to look at the plan for the gazebo for the library, I think you spent more time looking at the sculptures than the plans.”
”People should see his work, Oren,” I said.
”You're right,” he said. ”I'm going to need to take some measurements at the loading dock as soon as Winterfest is over. Is that okay?”
”Yes.” I wanted to jump up and down, but I settled for beaming at him.
”I'll be in to the library as soon as Winterfest is over.”
I nodded, and he headed for the kitchen.
Roma was still sitting on the floor, one hand on Eddie's thigh, the other on his hip. She looked like a groupie sitting adoringly at the feet of her hockey hero. Maggie was standing on the bench, straddling Eddie.
”What can I do to help?” I asked.
”Could you find me a pair of pliers? I think they're in that box.” Maggie pointed at one of the cartons that had been in the back of Roma's SUV.
After I'd handed the pliers to her I wrapped my arms around Eddie to keep him steady so Maggie could have both her hands free. From a distance I probably looked like a groupie, too.
”Why does Eddie smell like Christmas dinner?” I asked.
Roma frowned and pressed her face against Eddie's chest for a moment. ”Kathleen's right. Eddie smells like stuffing.”
Maggie was bending a piece of wire with the pliers. ”It's sage.”
”And why does Eddie smell like sage?” Roma asked.
”It helps to keep negative energy away from the project.”
Maggie was kind of New Agey about some things. She taught tai chi, believed in the power of karma and had been learning about herbal medicine from my neighbor Rebecca since last summer.
”There,” she said, jumping down off the bench and taking a step backward. ”Kathleen, you let go first.”
I slid my arms free and stood up. Eddie stayed in place.
”Okay, Roma,” Maggie said.
Roma stood up, too. Nothing moved. Maggie smiled with satisfaction and started gathering boxes.
”So, will you two be at the Winterfest supper Friday night?” Roma said.
Maggie glanced at me.
”Don't,” I warned.
”Don't what?” Roma asked.
”Maggie has the insane idea that I should take a date to the supper,” I said.
”A date. Who?”
”Marcus Gordon,” I said. Marcus was a police detective and I'd gotten to know him after I'd stumbled upon a dead body last summer. Not my favorite way to meet new people.
”What's wrong with Marcus?” Roma asked.
”He likes you,” Maggie interjected.
I crossed my arms and glared at her. ”He thought I killed Gregor Easton.”
”You weren't really a suspect,” Maggie said. ”He didn't arrest you.”
”That was really romantic of him,” I said dryly. I looked at Roma. ”Marcus Gordon is not my type.” Even though he was tall, good-looking and liked cats.
”I'm not saying marry him,” Maggie said. ”Or kiss him, or even hold his hand. I'm just saying get to know the man.”
She'd been saying that for months.
”Who knows? You might like him.”
”Who knows?” I mimicked her voice. ”Pigs might fly.” Roma looked at me and burst out laughing. Maggie followed her eyes and started to shake with the giggles. I tipped my head back slowly because there was no way. No way.
Overhead, a fat pink pig floated in the air just above me.
3.
Mary stood, trying to look innocent and not quite getting there. There was a twinkle in her eyes and a smile was pulling at the corners of her mouth. In one hand she was holding a thin pink ribbon. The other end was attached to a helium-filled balloon. A helium-filled pig.
”Bad timing?” she asked.
”No, no, your timing was excellent,” Roma said. She looked at me and started laughing again.
Maggie had the back of her hand pressed against her mouth. It didn't hide the fact that she was shaking with laughter.
”This is not a sign,” I said sternly. I turned to Mary. ”Can we help you with your . . . pig?”
”Yes,” she said. ”It's the mascot of the Horton Meat Company. They're providing the ham for the supper Friday night.” She made a face. ”Sam promised we'd display the pig during the supper and who knows where else, but I don't know what to do with the thing.” She looked at Maggie. ”Please, Maggie, do you have any ideas?”
Maggie squinted up at the balloon. ”Maybe,” she said. ”Which door are you going to set up at?”
Mary pointed to the double doors that led in from the front hall.
”Okay, I need to take a look.” Mags headed across the floor, Mary and the pig right behind her.
I turned to Roma. ”So, aren't you going to say something? You know you want to.”