Page 82 of Rest In Pink

Jason took the shake and I could see Cash wince as the foreman exerted some muscle into the grip for a couple seconds too long before letting go. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I didn’t catch your name,” Cash said.

“I didn’t throw it,” Jason replied. “We’re on a job here. You need something?”

“ECOmena?” Cash read. “You guys bought this place?”

“Two days ago,” Jason said.

“That was fast,” Cash said. “I’d like to talk to your boss.”

“You find her, you can talk to her.” Jason turned and walked away.

“Not very friendly, is he?” Cash said to me.

“He’s from New York City. People from there have a reputation for not being friendly. I’m from the Bronx, myself.”

He opened his mouth as he tried to process that, but I didn’t give him time to come up with a retort as I got back in the Gladiator and pulled away. In the rearview mirror, he was standing alone, a black figure in front of the ruins of the Shady Rest, looking lost while people in green shirts who did not work for him were hustling behind him, cleaning the place up.

I drove back past Ken’s. He was standing outside talking to an extremely attractive young Black woman in a very sharp pinstriped suit. I slowed as Ken nodded at her and opened the door for her, and they went inside.

Imani Coleman.

The mysteries were just piling up, everything getting more complicated. I really needed some simple in my life for a couple of hours.

Liz wasn’t simple, but she would fake it if I asked.

Tempting, but the job was calling. Rain had texted me that she was en route and to please meet her at the factory. I swung by the Red Box first to pick up what I’d called in, then drove toward Factory Road.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

When we got back from swimming and ice cream and picking up more bears, I pulled Anemone aside and told her I’d invited Margot to stay.

“If she comes back to live with Faye . . . ” I began.

“She’ll be drinking again by dinner,” Anemone finished. “You did the right thing. Of course we’ll take care of her.”

Sometimes I just flat out love Anemone Patterson.

Peri went back to her bears and dumped the last three garbage bags with the rest of them. Three hundred and eighty-three, eighty-four if you counted Red the Giant Guilt Bear, still sitting at the end of one of the couches. My mom had kept her top ten faves, so at least we were spared them. Peri had turned the living room into an ursine arena, beady little eyes looking at us from around the room. Veronica had started bedding down with them, burying her long blonde body under multiple bears, possibly looking for badgers. She blended nicely; if she decided to hide in that group, we’d never find her again.

“We need more boxes,” Peri told me.

I nodded. More boxes were a cheap price to pay to keep Peri entertained. “We’ll get them this afternoon before we go to . . .” I stopped, drawing a blank on today’s lesson. “Where are we going to today?”

“Our house to get my stuff and Mom’s clothes. Violin at Mrs. Bleak’s house,” Peri said, “and to Porters to get your new car.”

So that was the rest of my day planned.

I shoved some bears aside on the couch across from Anemone. “So, about the brownstone you shared with the writer—”

“Why am I doing this?” she said. “These chapters are finished. Why am I adding extra stuff about houses?”

“Because the houses are important,” I said. “I’m not going to tell you anything else because you’ll change the way you write about them. Two more to go, the brownstone you shared with the writer, and whatever you bought when you were on your own.”

“I didn’t,” she said. “I just stayed in hotels. I’d spend a couple of months in one place and then move again.”

“Different cities?”

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