***So far, Miranda Jessup Buckley has been jilted, fired and left to take care of her ex-lover's child.   She has become friends with the sheriff, her stoner neighbor, and now thinks she has an accomplice in proving Missy Toblerone killed her husband.  ***

 

 

 

 

"Miranda, I need you to promise me you're going to be careful.  If that reporter is right about Missy, you're in danger," Momma says as she salts her scrambled eggs.

 

Scrambled eggs make everything better.  When I was younger, if I had a bad day at school, my momma would make scrambled eggs for dinner.  She used to tell me they were magical.  Then as I got older, I realized it was her way of dealing with stress or anxiety.  Scrambled eggs were her comfort food.  Then they became my comfort food.

 

"I never did care for that girl," she continues.  "She was a manipulator from day one.  Used to make me so mad when she'd try and use you to get what she wanted.  She dug into your confidence until you hardly had any left."

 

I look up, surprised at what she's saying.  "I'm pretty confident."

 

"Really?  Explain your choice in men."

 

I feel the burn of her words as if she just slapped me.  "Damn.  Don't hold back, Momma."

 

"You had a crush on that nice football player, oh, what was his name.  She told you he was out of your league."

 

"I don't remember that."

 

"I sure do.  I was listening at your door.   She was always telling you that kind of bullshit.  And you bought it.  Oh, Miranda, you don't have any rhythm, you shouldn't try out for cheering.  I'm just being honest.  You shouldn't wear that color, it makes your skin look gray. I'm just being honest."

 

I can't help but laugh.  My momma was always as nice to Missy as possible.  I never had so much as a clue that she didn't like her.

 

"Well, she and I were only friends for a couple of years.  So, live and learn."

 

"You still need to be careful.  People who have more money than sense are a dangerous lot."

 

I shovel in the last few bites of my eggs then take my plate, along with hers, to the sink.  I wet the sponge and put a few drops of dish soap on it.  After I rinse them clean I reach for the pan.

 

"Just leave that," she says.  "You know I love you and I'm proud of you.  I don't think there's anything you can't do.  Okay?  But, you aren't invincible.   Stay alert.  Not everyone who smiles at you, is your friend."

 

I lean down and put my arms around her shoulders.   "I love you."

 

 

                    **************

 

 

Matt has left me a nice long list of things that need to be done.  It's time for the annual health inspection.  Since we have some limited food items, alcoholic beverages and a public bathroom, we have more things to clean, straighten and organize.  

 

Rita peeks over my shoulder and makes a small noise in my ear.  "How come he didn't leave me a list?"

 

"I'll happily share this one.  We can probably knock out half of these this afternoon."

 

"Let's start tomorrow.  I'm tired.  My boys were up half the night coughing."

 

"A spoonful of whiskey and honey will nip that."  I wouldn't really do that to a child.  I just enjoy the panic that comes to a parent's face when I say it.

 

"That's terrible, Miranda."

 

"You thought I meant for the kid?  No, it's for you."  I wink at her.

 

Rita giggles but stops as she looks past me.  "Shit.  Missy's heading this way." Her voice is soft but hurried.

 

"Rita!"  Missy calls out loudly.  "I need your help."

 

I slip past Rita to head to the coolers.  

 

"How can I help you," Rita says.

 

"I'm wondering which wine to take to Ed Preston's sister.  I need to offer my condolences.  What says I'm sorry your disgusting brother was knocked in the head and murdered?  Red or white?"

 

I step into the cooler, watching through the rows of bottles as Missy chats happily with Rita.  She leans into Rita, invading her personal space.  She's dominating her.  She used to do that to me.  But Rita just keeps shrinking further and further into herself.

 

Missy looks around.  She's looking for me.  I'm pretty darned sure she is.  She takes the bottle of wine from Rita and turns towards the coolers.  Each door she looks through.  Her eyes surveying slowly and thoroughly.  I step to the side then duck down.  

 

I'm not going to engage today.  Missy came looking for me but she's going to leave disappointed.

 

She finally gives up and makes her way to the checkout counter.  Rita puts the bottle in a bag.  Just before Missy leaves, she turns around and waves at the cooler.  Her mouth moves like she's speaking to someone, but between the motors of the refrigerators and the glass doors I can't hear anything.

 

I wait a few minutes before leaving the frosty cooler.

 

"She's gone," Rita says as I walk up the aisle, casting hesitant looks around.

 

"That's pretty tacky.  Taking wine to his sister.  How does she even know them?"

 

Rita shrugs.  "Maybe she's just trying to be nice.  Not likely, but maybe."

 

"Missy is only nice when it benefits her.  Never forget that."

 

"I think she was looking for you.  Did you hear what she said before she left?"

 

I shake my head.  "What?"

 

"She called out, I'll catch you later, Miranda."

 

I wrinkle my nose. " Not if I can help it."

 

I go back to the office.  Something about Missy's visit has me feeling off.  I'm not quite able to put my finger on it but it will come to me.  

 

There is a knock on the office door.

 

"Rita, you don't have to knock," I call out.

 

The door swings open and there stands Dougie Wilcox, in the flesh.

 

He grins like a possum.  "Hey, Baby."

 

I put my head in my hands and can't help but mutter, "You have got to be kidding me."

 

 

***To be continued...