Her mouth hardened. “Chip passed me on the street in Sheepville the day I arrived. He didn’t even give me a second look.”
I offered the tin of shortbread, but she shook her head.
“Then I talked to the lawyer to see what Sophie left in her will. I mean, I expected Chip would get most of her estate, but I thought I’d get something. I couldn’t believe she never even wrote one. And, as a result, zip for me. Nada. After everything I’d done for her.”
She lapsed into a brooding silence.
I poured some coffee for myself and waited. Even though patience wasn’t one of my strong points, I’ve learned that most people can’t stand the quiet and feel compelled to fill it. I didn’t have long to wait before PJ obliged.
She pushed away from the counter and began her usual pacing.
“At first I thought maybe I could reason with him, make him see what’s fair, but when Harriet told me how Sophie died, I got a bad feeling. She wasn’t the type to kill herself. I was sure it wasn’t an accident either. That’s when I decided it might be better to go incognito.”
She grabbed one of the shortbread fingers on one of her flybys past the counter.
“Harriet came up with the idea to dye my hair. She hooked me up with her optician for the colored contacts and paid him enough to keep his trap shut. Getting the job at the Times was easy enough. I’d done some reporting abroad, so I showed them writing samples and they hired me on the spot. Being a reporter, I figured I could get into places that I wouldn’t otherwise. Find out what happened to Sophie.”
“But you’re so much thinner now than in the photos. How did you do that so quickly?” Was she taking drugs, or what? “Did you really run away and join the Peace Corps?”
PJ paused for a moment. “Not the Peace Corps. Too structured for me. It was just a nongovernment volunteer place in Nicaragua, where we brought tourists on hikes round the volcanoes. We raised money to keep kids off the streets and give them some education. Four to six hours of hiking a day, most days a week. It was a workout, trust me.”
She swiped another biscuit from the tin. “And you should see what they eat there.” She stuck her tongue out. “Cow’s udders, bull’s testicles, pigskins—yuck. I stuck to the fruit, and sometimes rice and beans. I lost a ton of weight without even trying.”
“And you left in the first place because . . . ?”
“I left because I was upset.” She glared at me, waving the shortbread in the air. “Jesus. My mother had just died two weeks before. My stepfather, too, although he was a useless waste of space. Not awful like Chip, just useless. He spent all her money on his idiotic schemes.”
She blew out a shaky breath, and I had to sip my coffee and wait until she was ready to talk again.
“We went to a New Year’s Eve party. My mother insisted we go, although I don’t think Charles wanted to. When we left, it was snowing. I told them it was stupid to drive, and the people who had the party said I could stay, but I didn’t want to be left behind in that house either. Bunch of old people, and one old fart who kept leering at me.” She paused as if seeing that winter’s night tableau in front of her. “Charles took a corner too fast and the car spun around on the ice. Last thing I remember is my mother screaming. Then nothing.”
My heart ached for her and I wanted to hug her, but she was on the move again.
“Sophie blamed my mother for the accident, of course, even though it was her brother who was driving. A couple of weeks later, Chip and I got into a huge fight, and Sophie took Chip’s side. It was so unfair. Even though he treated her like crap, she stuck up for him because he was her flesh and blood. I’d had enough of the whole stupid family. There was nothing keeping me here, so I took off.”