The naked need in her eyes was too painful to see. I drew her to me in a hug. “Of course I’ll help.” And then, for the second time that day, I said, “I promise.”
• • •
Kristen sighed. “I can’t believe your mother lets you go out alone.”
Though part of me wanted to roll my eyes at her statement, part of me agreed with it.
“I mean, honestly.” Kristen pushed aside the paperwork in front of her, parting it like the Red Sea, and thumped her elbows on her desk’s scratched surface. She put her chin in her hands. “Two career-killing moves in one day. I’d say it’s a new record.”
“At least I’ve never told my boss he was an addlepated nincompoop.”
She grinned. “We’re discussing you, not me. Why didn’t you tell Brynn you’d drive Eddie out to see her in your car?”
“She wants to see the bookmobile cat, and he wouldn’t be a bookmobile cat that way, would he?”
She squinted at me, then nodded. “True enough. But what on earth made you promise Holly Terpening you’d help find Stan’s killer? You know what’s going to happen. By ‘help,’ Holly means ‘You go do this while I sit here and feel sorry for myself. Pooooor me.’” Kristen clasped her hands to her chest and batted her eyelashes.
“She’s not the same person you knew in high school,” I said. “And what makes you think helping Holly has anything to do with my career?”
“Because I know how she works. She’ll whine and moan and be on you to help poor little her every second of every day, and you won’t get any work done and Stephen will fire your skinny little butt because it’ll take you more than ten minutes to reply to his e-mails since you’re spending too much time helping Holly.”
I’d never understood the raw antagonism that existed between Kristen and Holly and I probably never would. “Well, anyway. What I really wanted to talk to you about was Stan Larabee.”
She glanced at the wall clock. “I don’t have time.”
“Yes, you do. You said you’d talked to him a few times. Did he come in here?”
She sat back in her chair, her long arms dangling. “You’re serious about this.”
“Did he or didn’t he?”
The silence between us lengthened to a thin strand. “Okay,” she said, breaking it. “Okay. Most of what I know about him is rumor and gossip and innuendo and I’m guessing you don’t want to hear any of that.” At my nod, she went on. “So the only thing I know for honest-to-goodness sure is that he and Caroline Grice have been in here a couple of times looking very friendly.”
I blinked. “No kidding.”
“Yep.” Kristen smiled, obviously pleased at my nonplussed status. “Very cozy they were.”
“You think they were on a date?”
“Bottle of expensive wine, dinner, coffee and dessert. Not sure what else it could have been.”
Stan dining with the most elegant and cultured widow in town. Who would have thunk it?
There was a knock on Kristen’s door. A white-hatted male head poked in. “Hey, Kristen. The guy from that new organic farm is here. You want me to send him back here?”
Kristen stood. “No, I’ll see him in the kitchen. Minnie, if you want some dinner, we have some portabella mushrooms I’m trying to finish off. If you ask nice, this guy will whip up something interesting for you. He’s the new one I told you about.” And in three leggy strides, she was out the door and gone.
The chef looked at me. “Do you want mushrooms for dinner?”
“I’d rather eat road salt.”
He grinned. “I’m not a big fan, myself.” His white jacket was embroidered with the name “Larry.” He might have been thirty, but his round face had that cherubic look that aged slowly. He also had a thick elastic brace around his left hand and wrist.
I nodded at it. “Can’t be easy doing chef stuff with that on.”
“Fact.” He cradled it on the opposite hand. “Keep it elevated, they say. Like that’s going to happen.”
“What did you do?”
He looked over his shoulder, then at me. “I told the boss I sprained it playing softball.”
“But . . . ?”
“You promise not to tell?”
What was one more promise? “Don’t see why I would.” The words hung in the air and I made a fast amendment. “Unless it hurts Kristen. She’s my friend.”
“Yeah, I get that.” He made a slicing motion with his good hand. “The other night I stayed late, practicing with the knives. I’m saving up to buy my own Wüsthofs, but Kristen got a new set and I wanted to work with them a little.”