Eleanor drained her mug of coffee and smacked her lips. “I must say I’m seeing things I haven’t seen in a long time.”
Martha waved a hand in the air. “Meh. Seen one, seen ’em all.”
Dottie smiled, and Eleanor burst out laughing.
I couldn’t join in the frivolity, though. I was sure that to everyone else Stanley’s death must seem like a blessing, and if I hadn’t had the odd experience in his bedroom last night, I might have been able to adjust as quickly, too.
But as things were, I went through the motions of pouring more coffee while my pulse raced and my mind struggled to make sense of it all.
A few moments later, Roos sauntered out of the bathroom, adjusting his leather pants. “Hey, that’s sad news, man. About ol’ Stanley, I mean.”
Suddenly it hit me. “Alex, why on earth didn’t you say something to us before?”
“Had no clue the dude was toast until I heard you guys talking. Excuse me. I mean, ladies. I . . . ah . . . crashed someplace else last night,” he said with a hint of a boyish grin.
Martha rolled her eyes at me.
“Well. I must be going. See you all later?” Dottie asked. “At the funeral?”
“Yes, we’ll be there,” I said firmly.
She hurried out with her usual purposeful stride, as if she was on some kind of important mission.
“Yeah, I gotta cruise, too,” Alex said. “Thanks again for the camera, Daisy. I’m stoked.”
Martha frowned as she watched him trail out onto the street after Dottie. “I still think that photographer is quite strange.”
Eleanor slipped a couple more cookies out of the lunch box.
“Oh, Martha, he’s okay,” I said. “He’s just a free spirit, and he shoots from the hip—pardon the pun.”
“Very punny. Did you see those leather pants he was wearing?” Eleanor mumbled, her mouth full. “They didn’t leave much to the imagination, that’s for sure.” She wrestled a few cookie crumbs back up into her mouth. “And believe me, I have a very vivid imagination.”
I twisted some wire around a bunch of bay leaves, and then another twist to hold it on to the circular metal frame.
Martha sniffed. “I’m positive he wasn’t wearing any underwear.”
“Even though he’s so overblown that he’s almost comical, there’s something oddly sexy about him,” I said as I pulled out a few more stems from the bunch, trying to match their length. “I just can’t put my finger on it.”
Eleanor arched an eyebrow at me.
I pointed a eucalyptus stem in her direction. “Don’t say it, Eleanor.”
Martha shrugged on her coat. “Well, I’d better get on home and pick out a black outfit for the funeral. And maybe I’ll stop and see Ruth on the way.”
Eleanor hopped down from her stool. “I’ll go with you.”
For the funeral.
I tried to gather some more fresh bay leaves into a bundle, but my hands shook so badly that the cut end of the wire pricked my finger. I gasped and dropped the leaves onto the counter.
“What’s the matter with you?” Martha asked.
I sucked down some coffee for strength. “Jeez. I don’t even know if I should say anything about this to anyone. It was just so bizarre . . .”