Going Through the Notions(94)

I didn’t tell her about Jasper digging it up and slobbering all over it, knowing how fastidious she was. “I should hand it over to the police, but as I know how much it means to you, I wanted you to have it.”

Fiona took a deep breath. “Thank you, Daisy, and you’re right. It does mean the world to me.”

At that moment, Detective Serrano and Joy came strolling around the other side of the garage.

Oh, boy.

Fiona clapped a hand to her mouth.

Joy came up and hugged me. “Daisy! What a nice surprise!”

Serrano looked at me and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“Oh, um, hi, Joy, and um, Tony, I was saying good-bye to my friend Fiona here. She’s going back to New York.”

I risked a glance back at Fiona, who smiled tightly and nodded, but didn’t say anything. She was wearing a sleeveless top, and a tight linen miniskirt with no pockets. Where the heck had she put the pen? She had no sleeves to shove it inside, and if she’d stuck it down her skirt, well, it should have made some kind of outline.

However, Detective Serrano was currently focused on one person. “Daisy, I’ve been checking the marketplace for those pens, but there’s not a whisper of them for sale anywhere. They seem to have vanished into thin air.”

He frowned as he did his scanning thing of the courtyard, the Mercedes, a stray wandering duck, Fiona, the driver, and then back to me. “There’s something very odd about this whole affair. I bet they’re right in front of us and we just can’t see them.”

I made a sound that I hoped sounded like agreement. After a few moments, Joy and Serrano moved on, with Joy leading the way to the main house.

Once the coast was clear, I turned to Fiona. “What did you do with it?” I hissed.

She didn’t answer, but simply opened her mouth and slowly pulled the pen out of her throat, like a snake regurgitating a thin mouse.

“Holy moly!” And here I had worried about her being squeamish because Jasper had picked it up.

Fiona shrugged. “What can I say? I dated a sword swallower in college.”

I shook my head as I gave her my handkerchief. “Why don’t you keep this to wrap it in?”

If Fiona were anyone else, we would have hugged. As it was, we shook hands, but the unexpected warmth of her touch and the sparkle in her eyes made me grin like a fool all over again.

“I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me, Daisy. If there’s ever anything I can do to repay the favor . . .”

“Don’t mention it. Have a safe trip. And a good life.”

I watched the Mercedes ease down the driveway and waved until she was out of sight.

As pleased as I was with myself, I needed to get a move on and get the heck out of there before the detective came back. I was the world’s worst liar, and I knew I couldn’t fool him for long.

I jumped in the Subaru and turned the key. Click. Nothing.

Damn it. I pounded a hand on the steering wheel of the old car. I felt like pounding my head on it, too. I was going to be so late.

A shadow appeared at the driver’s side window.

“Car trouble?” Serrano inquired politely.

“Yes, it appears so.” I suddenly realized there was no police car parked in the courtyard. “Hey, where’s your car?”

He nodded in the direction of the organic farm. “I came in that way and walked up to the main house, so as not to alarm the guests. This was a social call.”

Social call? Joy was an attractive woman in her early forties. Guess the detective was a fast worker once he arrived in a new town.

“I was hoping I might run into Robin Tague,” he said, doing the mind-reading thing again. “See if I could get a handle on the guy. It’s a long shot that he’s involved with the fountain pen murder, but you never know.” He pointed at me. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

In a few minutes, the cruiser rolled into the courtyard and Serrano parked nose to nose with the Subaru. But once he’d attached the jumper cables and told me to try to start it, the Subaru’s engine refused to turn over, even with a powerful V-8 attached.

“There’s probably something wrong with the alternator or starter motor,” he called to me. “Do you need a ride home?”

I knew that George Hildebrand would have closed the garage by now. I should leave the car here, get home at a reasonable hour to appease Joe, and deal with this tomorrow.

“Fine. Thanks.”

I’d never ridden in a police car before, and I always wore a seat belt anyway, but I was glad I’d buckled mine now because Serrano drove the way he moved, fast and fluid. The scenery whipped by, and he cut lines through the twisting corners like a downhill skier.