Part 38 (2/2)

”It's okay, Mags,” I said. ”It's gone.” That much was true. ”I put it outside.” Also true.

She looked around again, then tucked the piece of pipe between her knees.

I shot Ruby a warning look, hoping she remembered how Maggie felt about small furry things.

”Is Jaeger still here?” Maggie asked, glancing at the stairs.

”I don't know,” I said.

”I just saw him putting boxes in his car,” Ruby offered. She rolled her eyes at Maggie. ”So, what was it this time? The we-need-a-corporate-sponsor speech? Or the we-need-to-expand-our-horizons rant?”

”The first one,” Maggie said. Then she noticed my hand. ”Did you do that on the railing?” She caught my wrist and rolled my palm over. ”I think that needs st.i.tches.”

”I don't need st.i.tches,” I said. ”It isn't even bleeding anymore. All I need is a Band-Aid.”

Maggie shook her head and mock glared at me. ”C'mon upstairs. I'll fix it.”

Ruby and I followed her up the steps. Mags knew I hated hospitals. It went back to when I was a kid. Blame it on a weak stomach, a dark examining room, an artificial leg and way too many cheese curls.

”So, it seems like Jaeger is really pus.h.i.+ng this corporate sponsor idea,” I said to Ruby, while Maggie cleaned my cut.

Ruby made a face. ”He thinks we should find some big business to subsidize the co-op, kind of like a patron of the arts.” Ruby painted huge abstracts and also taught art.

”What's in it for the business?” I asked. ”I'm guessing something more than just goodwill.”

”The use of our artwork for commercial purposes, among other things,” Maggie said, fastening a big bandage on my hand. ”I'm not against that necessarily. But I'm not about to give up the right to choose how my art is used. Jaeger thinks I'm wrong.” She looked at me. ”How's that?”

I opened and closed my hand a few times. ”Perfect,” I said. ”Thank you.”

”He's an a.s.shat,” Ruby said.

”A what?” I asked.

”a.s.shat,” she repeated. ”You know-someone whose head is so far up his . . . you know . . . that he's wearing it for a hat.”

”Sounds uncomfortable,” Maggie said.

”Does Jaeger look like anyone else either of you have seen?” Ruby asked.

I shook my head. ”No.”

”Uh-uh,” Maggie said. ”Why?”

”I can't shake the feeling I've seen him somewhere before, especially since he cut his hair.”

”Maybe a workshop or an exhibit,” I said.

”No, I don't think that's it.” She shook her head and all the little hoops in her left ear danced. ”Anyway, it doesn't matter. I just came to see if you guys wanted to go get something to eat at Eric's.”

I glanced at my watch.

”Is this a cat morning?” Maggie asked.

”Uh-huh.” I was one of several volunteers who helped tend a feral cat colony at Wisteria Hill, the old abandoned Henderson estate just outside town.

”Going by yourself?” She was all innocent sweetness.

”Maybe,” I said. I knew where the conversation was headed.

For months Maggie had been trying to play matchmaker between Marcus Gordon and me. Marcus was a police detective, and we'd gotten off on the wrong foot the previous summer when he thought it was possible I had killed conductor Gregor Easton, or at the very least been involved in some intimate hanky-panky with the man who was twice my age and a . . . well . . . pretentious creep.

But last winter Marcus had rescued me when I was left dazed and wandering through the woods in the bitter cold after an explosion. We'd gotten closer since then, though not close enough to suit Maggie. She was indirectly responsible for our friend Roma's relations.h.i.+p with hockey player Eddie Sweeney, and it had just made her worse where Marcus was concerned. Maggie believed in happily ever after and she had no problem with giving it a nudge, or even a big shove.

”Meeting anyone out there?” she continued.

”Don't start,” I warned.

”Start what?”

Ruby grinned. She'd heard us do this before. ”Start on Marcus and me getting together. We're friends. That's all. He's not my type. He doesn't-”

”Even have a library card,” Maggie finished. ”Is that the only thing you can find wrong with him?”

Okay, so I had probably used that excuse too much. I thought about Marcus for a moment. He was tall, with dark wavy hair, blue eyes and a gorgeous smile that he didn't use nearly often enough. He was kind to animals, children and old people.

I caught myself and shook my head. I was supposed to be thinking of what was wrong with the man, not what was right. Maggie was smirking at me as though she could read my mind. I stuck my tongue out at her.

”So, how about breakfast?” Ruby said.

Maggie nodded. ”Sounds good to me.”

”I have to get out to Wisteria Hill,” I said. ”But I'll drive you two over and get a cup of coffee to go.”

Maggie picked up the length of old pipe again.

”Are you taking that with you?” I asked.

”Would it look stupid?”

”Well, not exactly stupid,” I said. ”More like you're about to start looting and pillaging.”

”You know, I really do believe every creature has a right to exist. It's just . . .” She blew out a breath. ”I don't want some of them for roommates.” She set the pipe on the floor against the wall at the bottom of the stairs.

Maggie locked the building, and then we piled in the truck and headed for Eric's Place, farther up Old Main Street. Even though I knew the town pretty well now, I still found the whole Main Street versus Old Main Street thing kind of confusing.

”Is it ever going to stop raining?” Ruby asked, looking skyward as we got closer to the cafe.

<script>