Garden of Secrets (23 page)

“I had a short day, and I’m going to Delilah’s Hair Salon.”

“Really? What are you having done?”

“Do you care?”

“I care about everything that concerns you. I like your hair long. You’re not cutting it, are you?”

“No, not today.”

He glanced down the street. “I’ll walk with you. Maybe wait until you’re done, and then I’ll buy you a coffee—latte with hazelnut sprinkles, right?”

She was impressed that he knew her favorite coffee but not excited about him hanging around the salon while she talked to Lottie. “I don’t have an appointment. I’m just stopping in to say hello to Lottie.”

“I hear she’s a character. I didn’t realize you were friends.”

“She’s Andrew’s aunt.”

“No kidding? I’ll be glad to meet her.”

He wasn’t giving an inch. “You’re determined to come along, aren’t you?”

“You bet. Because you’re up to something, and I want to know what it is.”

Their gazes clashed and held for a moment. “Fine. Lottie used to cut Edward Worthington’s hair. Fiona suggested she might be a good person to talk to. Now you know.”

“I’m going with you.”

“You’ll scare Lottie with your official presence, and she won’t tell me a thing.”

“From what I know of Lottie, she doesn’t scare easily.”

Charlotte headed down the street, Joe dogging her steps. When she opened the door to the salon,
she saw Lottie behind the counter. The big-haired blonde with the long fake eyelashes and overdone makeup was nothing like Andrew’s mother, Gwen, who had always struck Charlotte as a prissy, uptight woman.

“Charlotte Adams,” Lottie said in a loud, cheery voice. “I wondered when you’d finally come in and say hello.” She moved around the counter and gave Charlotte a bear hug. “How are you?”

“I’m good. I’m sorry I haven’t come by until now.”

“Well, you’ve been busy, from what I hear. What can I do for you today? Your hair is too pretty to cut.”

“No, I don’t need a cut.”

“Then it’s you that needs a cut,” Lottie said, turning to Joe. “I’ve been wanting to get my hands on that thick head of hair of yours. I can do a much better job than Bernie at the barbershop.”

“I don’t need a cut, either,” Joe said quickly.

“No, he just wants a trim,” Charlotte said, deciding to make Joe pay for hounding her steps. “He’s a little nervous about having it done in a women’s salon, so I said I’d come with him.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” Lottie said. “Well, only sometimes,” she added with a laugh. “But not when I’m cutting hair.”

Joe turned red.

“Don’t be shy,” Charlotte said, putting a hand on his back and nudging him forward. “Lottie is great.”

Lottie led him over to her chair. There was one
other stylist sweeping up hair, but there were no other customers. “You’re lucky. You hit us at a slow time,” she said. “How about a shampoo?”

“No thanks,” Joe said, sitting in the chair. He glared at Charlotte in the mirror as Lottie draped a plastic cover over him and spritzed his hair with water. “And don’t cut very much off.”

“Men are always afraid to lose their hair,” Lottie told Charlotte. “But this one doesn’t look like he’s in any danger of that.”

Joe’s hair was thick, wavy, and a rich shade of brown. Charlotte had loved the feel of it in her fingers. “Don’t cut too much off,” she echoed. “I like his hair a little on the long side.”

“And is it important what
she
likes?” Lottie asked Joe with a mischievous twinkle. “Funny, I haven’t heard any gossip about you two. I hope I’m the first. I love to break news in this town.” She glanced back at Charlotte as she reached for her comb. “I thought you and Andrew were getting together.”

Charlotte should have seen that coming. She quickly changed the subject. “I wanted to talk to you about Edward Worthington. Fiona told me you used to go to Sandstone Manor to cut his hair.”

“I did. We had some interesting conversations. But if you’re asking if he told me where the gold was hidden, I’d have to say no,” she said with a wink. “Don’t look so surprised, honey. Everyone in town is wondering if that’s what the thief was really looking for. Edward told me if there was any gold, he sure couldn’t find it. He was a hard man—cynical, bitter,
and quiet. It was tough to get much out of him. The only person he seemed to warm to was his housekeeper.”

“Constance?” Charlotte asked, anticipation snaking down her spine. “Did they have a more personal relationship than employer-employee?”

“I never caught them doing anything personal, but she mothered him. She was always bringing him tea, checking up to make sure I wasn’t bothering him. She was protective, and he seemed to like that.” Lottie paused. “He mentioned that it was the curse of the Worthington men to lose the women and children who loved them. He’d decided to live the rest of his life alone, so as not to put anyone else in danger.” Lottie pulled a comb through Joe’s hair and snipped off the ends. “I was a little surprised that he didn’t leave Constance anything in his will. Everything from his estate went to charity. Rich people may get close to their servants, but they don’t usually forget that that’s exactly what they are—servants.”

Which gave Constance a good motive to try to get something from the estate for herself. “Do you know anything about the necklace that was stolen?”

“I heard it belonged to the Worthington woman who died on the ship. But who knows if that’s true? Lots of rumors going around, including you being near Theresa’s room when she got knocked out. Such nonsense, and that’s what I tell everyone. You were always a good girl. I knew you’d do well for yourself, and here you are, a doctor. It’s very impressive. My
nephew never should have let you slip through his fingers.”

“That was a long time ago, Lottie.”

“Kid stuff, I know,” she said with a wave of her hand. “But you two made a cute couple. I remember one time sitting on Gwen’s porch, and you both came back from the beach, all golden blond, sunburned, and wind in your hair. You looked happy, the picture of young love. Then you whistled, and this scraggy, muddy mutt came running. You said your mother wouldn’t let you bring home any more strays, so you needed someone to take the dog until you could find the owner.”

“Andrew’s mother was horrified,” Charlotte said, smiling at Lottie.

“Which is why she made me take the dog. He was my loyal companion for seven years. I called him Bartholomew. He needed a royal name to make up for his not-so-royal lineage.”

“I’m glad he had a good home.” She cleared her throat, realizing that Joe was watching her in the mirror with a thoughtful look.

“Anyway,” Lottie said, “I know love doesn’t always last. Lord knows I’ve fallen in love a dozen times—and I enjoy it every single time.” She gave Charlotte a mischievous grin. “Nothing wrong with being single. You can do whatever you want whenever you want, although it can be a little lonely, too. But there’s always some bad that comes with the good.”

“Yes.” They’d drifted way off track. “Lottie, I need to clear my name. If you can think of anything else that might help me find the thief, I’d appreciate it.”

“Isn’t finding the thief
your
job?” Lottie asked Joe.

“I like to think so,” he said dryly.

Lottie nodded. “Charlotte always had a mind of her own. Did she tell you about the time she organized a strike against Buck’s Burgers?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No, she didn’t. What did you do, Norma Rae?”

“You don’t want to hear that story,” Charlotte replied quickly, but there was no stopping Lottie when she was on a roll.

“One summer, old Buck decided to hire nothing but busty girls to wait tables. Well, one of Charlotte’s friends couldn’t get hired because she didn’t have a lot in that department. So Charlotte organized a strike. She got all the pretty girls in town to picket, and none of their boyfriends would cross the line. Buck lost money and finally had to cave in.”

“He really went in the other direction,” Joe said. “The last time I was in his place, there wasn’t a waitress under forty.”

“Besides being a chauvinist, Buck is also cheap. There are far better gigs in town for good-looking young girls.” Lottie measured the ends of his hair, then looked in the mirror. “What do you think, Chief? Short enough?”

“It’s good,” he said. “Charlotte?” He met her gaze in the mirror.

Sexy as hell, she thought. But Lottie had big ears and no censor on her mouth. “Not bad.”

“Not bad.” Lottie sniffed. “Own up, girl, he looks hot.”

She gave up. “Okay, he looks hot.”

“That’s right. You’ve been a good sport, Chief. I know you didn’t really want a haircut. You wanted information. But we all got something out of it, didn’t we?” Lottie said cheerfully.

Joe got up and dug out his wallet, then handed Lottie two twenties. “Will this cover it?”

“I barely did anything. I’ll get you some change.”

“Keep it,” he said. “You’ve been a good sport, too.”

“Thanks, Lottie,” Charlotte added.

“Anytime. Don’t be a stranger, now.”

“I won’t.” She followed Joe out the door and onto the sidewalk. “So what do you think about Constance being left out of the will? It would give her a motive. And she had the opportunity.”

“But we don’t have evidence, Charlotte.”

“What do we do?”

“We get some coffee. Our time with Lottie wasn’t a complete waste,” Joe said as they started down the street. “We didn’t learn a lot about Edward Worthington, but I know more about you now. Rescuing dogs, leading strikes . . . I’m wondering why the hell Andrew ever cheated on you.”

She hesitated for a moment, but she might as well tell him. “I told Andrew that I loved him after we had sex for the first time. I didn’t know it was a surefire way to get rid of a guy.”

“Teenage boys scare easily where love is concerned,” he said.

“Yeah, I learned my lesson. No more declarations of love.”

“Not ever?” he asked, shooting her a sideways glance.

“Well, those words aren’t really date one through three material, and most of my relationships haven’t lasted much longer than that.”

Joe opened the door to the Java Hut. Inside, they gave their orders, then took a table by the front window. Joe winced a little as he sat down.

“Sore?” she asked.

“A little. Tell me I’m not alone.”

“That run
was
longer than usual. I wanted to see what kind of shape you were in.”

“How did I do?”

“You looked pretty good to me.”

He grinned. “Right back at you.”

Her cheeks warmed under his gaze. “You really have to stop looking at me like that, Joe. Especially out in public. Lottie is probably already on the phone about us, and I don’t think you’re going to like the gossip.”

He smiled. “Being coupled with you isn’t all that bad. And I’m sure it will annoy the good reverend. You haven’t talked to him yet, have you?”

“Andrew and I have been trading phone calls. But what I talk to him about is my business, not yours.”

“Fine.”

She let out a breath as Joe got up to get their coffees. She really did need to speak to Andrew. Maybe later tonight.

Joe slid her coffee across the table to her. She took a sip, delighted with the sweetness on her tongue.

“This is good, thanks. What did you get?”

“Chai tea.”

“Another one of my favorites. It tastes like Christmas.”

He took a sip. “I never thought of it that way, but it does.”

She smiled at him. “Speaking of Christmas, did Santa bring you anything good this year?”

“Izzy gave me a fishing rod.”

“I didn’t know you fished.”

“I’ve only been out a few times, but now that I’m living here, I’ll probably have more opportunities. Do you like fishing?”

“I find it a little slow. I love to sail, though. I haven’t done much of it since I came back, but maybe in the spring.”

“Sounds like you’re thinking of staying.”

“I haven’t made any plans to leave, but I also haven’t made any plans to stay.”

“You like to keep your options open,” he commented, his smile losing a bit of its warmth.

“I suppose. But the way you said it sounded a little like a criticism.”

“Just an observation. You’re good at putting things off until tomorrow.”

“Very good,” she agreed. “You should see how many times I reschedule every dental appointment until I finally have to go. I hate getting my teeth cleaned. Mostly, I hate getting lectured by the hygienist about not flossing enough.”

“Really? What else do you hate?” he asked with amusement.

“Waiters who won’t write things down, as if they’re trying to prove some sort of memory challenge.”

“I don’t like restaurants where there are six empty tables but still a wait list.”

She nodded. “That
is
annoying. How about people who obviously have more than twelve items in the express line?”

“We should arrest them. Along with anyone who starts a sentence with ‘No offense,’ when obviously, whatever they have to say is going to be offensive.”

“And what about the person who needs to control the remote and flip through all of the channels every five minutes?”

“Uh-oh,” he said with a grin.

She sighed. “I should have guessed. You do like to control things.”

“So do you.”

“I can give up the remote. But if anyone touches my special stash of Ghirardelli dark, melt-in-your-mouth chocolate, there’s war.”

“I’m not big on chocolate, so your stash would be safe with me.”

“If we spend enough time together, maybe my
bad habits would drive you crazy, and you wouldn’t like me anymore,” she suggested.

He shook his head. “Charlotte, if we spend time together, I’m only going to like you more,” he said.

She tingled under his gaze. “We’ll see.” Had she finally met a man she couldn’t run off?

His tea was hot and sweet—just like Charlotte, Joe thought. She was telling a story about something that had happened to her in high school, but he’d gotten distracted by the freckle over her top lip and the sweep of her dark lashes over her blue eyes and the way her hair glowed in the late-afternoon light. He couldn’t remember ever being so aware of a woman, so turned on by the melody of her voice, the warmth of her laugh, the curve of her lips, the softness of her skin.