Slightly Psychic. Sandra Steffen
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Lila wondered what that had been about. She didn’t doubt Katherine’s sincerity when it came to antiques. But she’d seemed to be guarding something. Or someone. Lila was still thinking about that when Pepper returned a few minutes later.
Dropping her Gucci bag on a table already stacked high with old newspapers, Pepper said, “That man doesn’t like me.”
“What man?” Lila looked up from the same piece of junk mail she’d been staring at for the last five minutes.
“Joe.”
“You never think anybody likes you.”
“Trust fund babies never know who they can trust. Ironic isn’t it?”
Pepper’s sigh contained all the drama of an Audrey Hepburn movie. It took Lila back to the day she and Pepper met during their freshman year at Radcliffe. Back then, Lila had spent most of her time studying so she wouldn’t lose her scholarship, while Pepper spent her free time with other girls who had buildings and library additions named after their relatives. Needing a break from her studies, Lila had gone to the video store to rent a movie. She and Pepper both reached for the only copy of the 1948 version of Anna Karenina. It had been Pepper’s idea to watch it together. Thanks to Vivien Leigh, they’d clicked. Discovering someone who didn’t like her for her family’s money was a novel experience for Pepper, but the friendship worked both ways.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Lila said.
“Whoever said small-town people are big gossips hasn’t visited Murray, Virginia, on a Monday morning in late May.”
“No one wanted to talk to you?” Lila asked, incredulous.
“Difficult to believe, isn’t it? Although now that you mention it, they were more than willing to share anecdotes and stories about moonshine and legendary fog so thick farmers have been known to turn it over with their plows without realizing it,” Pepper scoffed. “Who cares about fog? I want to know about Joe and Noreen McCaffrey. Every woman I spoke with clicked her tongue and shook her head when I mentioned Joe’s name, but the second I asked, discreetly, mind you, where he might have stashed Noreen’s body, every one of them suddenly had a million things to do.”
“I can’t imagine why Joe doesn’t like you.”
“I wasted my time fine-tuning my résumé. There isn’t much call for a French interpreter in Murray. And the museums in the valley all seem to revolve around the Rebellion, which is how I would refer to the Civil War if I were you. It’s still a sore subject down here, although I’d hold a grudge, too, if my ancestral home had been burned to the ground for no reason. I thought I had the owner of the dress boutique interested in hiring me, but then she asked if I’ve ever worked in a retail capacity. I couldn’t very well lie, could I?” Pepper sighed all over again. “The truth will get you every time.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Lila said.
“I did receive two marriage proposals.”
“Only two? It must have been a slow day,” Lila said, throwing away a stack of old mail.
“Neither of the men had his teeth in, and you know how I value good oral health.”
“And did either of them have any idea where Noreen McCaffrey is?”
Pepper dropped so heavily to the old camelback sofa that dust floated up all around her. Jumping up again in disgust, she said, “It’s obvious everyone I’ve talked to believes Joe did it. What will it take to convince you?”
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