She wiped her eyes and then looked me up and down. “Why are you dressed like a bumblebee? And why aren’t you home partaking of wedded bliss?”
“You ask a lot of questions for a woman who never answers any,” I said.
It was my turn to look her over. I hadn’t seen her since just after the wedding when we’d gone to see Savage in the hospital. I’d noticed the last year or so Kate had been under a tremendous amount of stress. It hadn’t helped that she’d found out about her husband’s gambling addiction, or that when she’d hired me, she’d unofficially gotten Rosemarie and Scarlet.
Kate had always been cute as a button. Her hair was blond and she’d had it cut recently so it was a little shorter than usual, but she still wore the same black headband to keep the hair out of her face. Kate was a lost cause in the fashion department. I’d been trying for years to spruce up her wardrobe and get her to wear lipstick.
She still wasn’t wearing makeup, but the line that had seemed like a permanent addition in between her eyes had disappeared. She looked—rested. It was the first time I’d seen her like that in years.
“You look good,” I said. “I mean, not that outfit though. Are you buying suits from the Hillary Clinton collection? I’ve never actually seen a pumpkin-colored suit in person before. Where’s your body? You’re young and hip. Maybe when you finally sell the agency we can have a party and burn all your ugly suits.”
“I’m not taking fashion advice from an insect,” she said.
“It’s cute,” I said, looking down at my attire. There was a blob of crème from the éclair right in the middle of my boobs. “I had pastries for breakfast and cake for lunch.”
“That would explain why you look like you’re jonesing for a hit,” she said. “Are you going to tell me why you’re sitting in my office instead of boinking your very fine husband?”
“Believe me,” I said. “There has been no lack in that department. You should see how even my tan is.”
“I’ll pass,” she said, taking a seat on the couch instead of behind her desk.
“Nick went back on duty today,” I said. “He caught a homicide.”
“There’s no shortage of those around here,” she said. She kicked off her shoes and lay back on the couch, and my mouth fell open.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Are you sick? Are you having a stroke?”
She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “I’m just lying down.”
“Like, for a nap?”
“I’ve been taking one almost every day,” she said, the corner of her mouth tilted in a smile. “Naps do wonders for the disposition. I wish I’d been taking them for years.”
“Scarlet says the same thing,” I said. “I’ve never seen you take a nap. At least, not since kindergarten, and even then you never closed your eyes. It was freaky. What’s wrong with you?”
She laughed and I became even more worried. “Nothing is wrong with me. I’m just taking the time to enjoy this very comfortable couch.”
“It is comfortable,” I agreed. “I’ve snuck in and taken a couple of naps on that thing. You should take it with you after you leave.”
“Hmm,” she said, sliding her hand across the leather. “Do you think Scarlet’s okay?”
“I’m not sure I’m brave enough to check,” I said. “But if she doesn’t come back in a few minutes I’ll go check on her.”
“I’ve got a gas mask in my desk you can use.”
“Really?” I asked. And then I narrowed my eyes at her. “Kate McClean, don’t think because you’re being all pleasant and making conversation that I don’t know what you’re up to. Don’t change the subject. I want to know what’s going on with you and why you’re in such a good mood.”
“Because this transition to sell has been the least amount of work I’ve done in years,” she said. “I’m free. At least for the most part. It’s like being on vacation. I’m not having to deal with any new clients or crazy people looking to catch their spouse having an affair. I’m not up to my eyeballs in paperwork every night or dealing with insurance companies or chasing down corporations who don’t like to pay bills on time. This isn’t exactly the kind of business people use unless something is going wrong in their life. It’s kind of a bummer. This is the kind of job that if you do it too long you lose all faith in humanity and you stop trusting anyone. And I’ve definitely been doing it too long.”
“Wow,” I said. “I had no idea you were so miserable.”
“Not miserable,” she said. “Just challenged. It’s taken a while to figure out my priorities. Mike and I want to travel. And the agency has been good to me over the years. I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor. I’ve had a couple of government agencies send out feelers to see if I’d be interested in consulting, so I’ll use this time to think about my future. You understand now that you’ve got Nick in your life. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, or for your marriage.”
“That’s true,” I said. “Which is why I gave up PI work.”
“No you didn’t,” Scarlet said, coming into the room. “Whew, do I feel better. Kate, you might need to knock a few bucks off that sale price for this thing. Maybe I should just write you a check. Do you take Venmo?”
“I’ll just light a candle,” Kate said. “It’ll be fine.”
“Don’t count on it,” Scarlet said. “We set a latrine on fire during the war and it took out half the battlefield.”
Kate looked back at me. “What’s this about you not giving up PI work? I don’t show you as working on any active cases. What’s going on?”
I sighed. I’d never been any good at keeping secrets from Kate, so I figured I might as well tell her. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t let my mother know you know.”
Scarlet hmmphed. When we turned to look at her she said, “Don’t mind me.”
“I won’t say anything,” Kate said.
“Mom thinks—”
“All I’m saying is that everyone already knows,” Scarlet said. “If Vince has been skipping out on her for more than a month then everyone in Whiskey Bayou and their dog knows. Just interview Edna from next door. Nosy old bat. I bet she knows what’s up.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, and I added it to my mental to-do list.
“Vince is cheating on your mom?” Kate asked, wide eyed. She scooted up on her elbows and propped pillows behind her head so she could see me.
“I wanted to tell it,” I said, looking at Scarlet.
“You were taking too long,” she said. “I could die by the time you get to the end of the story. Sometimes you’ve got to rip the Band-Aid off.”
“You just wanted to spread the gossip,” I told her.
“That too,” Scarlet said. “Carry on. I won’t say another word.” She zipped her lips and mimicked throwing away the key.
“We don’t know if he’s cheating for sure,” I said, and Scarlet hmmphed again. I just ignored her this time and went on. “But the evidence against him is pretty damning. Mom’s got phone records and credit card bills.”