Going Through the Notions(87)

“Ohmigod, Mom, look at Jasper.” The dog was sitting, one leg askew, gazing at the sandwich she held, his fuzzy ears pricked. “You know how they say people look like their dogs? I’m so glad a cute dog picked me to rescue him.” She slipped him a piece of bacon.

I sucked in a deep breath. I’d miss Jasper terribly when she left, but I didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Oh, and by the way, I landed a new film gig. Filming starts the second week of August.”

I had to laugh at myself again. I’d been so worried about her getting a job. She hadn’t worried at all, and it had fallen into her lap. “That’s great, Sarah. I’m glad something turned up.”

“Mom, I had to work hard to get it, you know. What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?” She gestured with her phone. “Networking.”

Just as I took another bite of the sloppy sandwich, Joe came into the kitchen with Peter.

“We’re going to install more cabinets in here today,” Joe announced. “Then I thought we’d take this young man out for a farewell dinner.”

I gulped down my mouthful with an effort. “Oh, you’re leaving, Peter?”

“Yes, unfortunately I have to get back to New York for meetings.”

“I’m staying until after the country fair this weekend and then I’ll be heading back, too,” Sarah said, smiling at him.

“I thought we’d go to the Bridgewater Inn tonight,” Joe said. “That okay with everyone?”

“I don’t know. I might still be full after this sandwich.” I grinned at Sarah.

Peter bent down to pet Jasper. “I’ve heard the food there is delicious, although I have to admit I’ve been spoiled at the Four Foxes. There’s nothing like tasting vegetables the day they’re picked. The chef is fantastic.”

I wiped a smear of ketchup from the corner of my mouth. “Joy lured him away from a spa in California.”

“Robin Tague likes it, too, apparently,” Peter said. “He’s staying for another couple of weeks even though his concerts are over in Philadelphia. Says the vibe there inspires him.”

Guess he learned how to write with color around.

“You talked to him?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah, we were hanging out at the pool together and we started chatting. Poor guy. His apartment building burned down to the ground last month. He lost everything.”

“Everything?” My ears perked up. Including his Magical Black Widow pen?

I had to remind myself that I wasn’t supposed to be getting involved in this investigation anymore. Although I might mention it to Serrano if I happened to run into him.

I stood up and stretched. “Now that I’m in a food coma, I’m going to work. Thanks for breakfast, Sarah.”

She rose and gave me a hard tight hug. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

Joe waggled his finger at me. “Come straight home after work, Daisy.”

I steeled myself against rolling my eyes.

As I walked out of the house, I couldn’t explain why his comment irritated me so much, except that demands like that were almost guaranteed to make me want to rebel.

Well, now I’d go see the biggest rebel of them all. I couldn’t wait to get Cyril’s take on the latest development in Angus’s case.

Part of what looked like an old carnival ride had been dumped in the middle of the salvage yard, and I inspected one of the rocket ships with interest. The battered stainless steel ride car would make a neat addition to a kid’s playroom, or even provide fun décor at a restaurant or nightclub.

“’Bout time.” Cyril flung the trailer door open. He spun on his heel and marched back inside.

I walked in, holding my two cups of coffee, nudged the door shut with my elbow, and sat down opposite him at the kitchen table. Cyril quickly folded the newspaper and set it aside.

“What the heck is that?” I asked, pointing at the orange mass on his plate. “What are you eating?”

“Wazzit look like?” Cyril glared at me. “Baked beans on toast.”

I watched in fascination as he ate his odd breakfast. “Did you meet the new detective in town yet?”

“Aye up. Nice chap. Brought me coffee without being asked, too.”

I shoved one of the cups toward him.

“A real wick copper, that one. Nowt like Ramsbottom, who were as thick as two short planks.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I thought the gist of it was that Serrano was smarter than the detective currently sitting in jail.

“Heard yer store was like summat out of the Wild Wild West on Saturday night.”

I told him about visiting the Perkinses’ house, discovering the gambling ring, and the gunshots fired through the store window. I also confided how upset I was at not being able to visit Angus on Sunday.