Noelle wasn’t who Jill was looking for. They’d had another long talk last night.
“She’s gone to Springfield to pick up some supplies,” Sheena explained. “Nathan decided to go with her. Those two are so sweet to each other, Mom says sometimes she just wants to gag.” Sheena smiled, and it was a sad smile. Ordinarily, she was the giggling type, but since Edith’s death, the young woman had lost her usual effervescence.
Jill hesitated, feeling intrusive. “Since you mentioned the day Edith died, do you remember much about that morning?”
Sheena blinked at her, then glanced again toward the connecting entryway between the spa and the shop, as if concerned someone might overhear them. “Sure I do. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I’m sorry I was such a brainless idiot that day.”
“You were understandably upset. It was a horrible thing for you to see.”
“It’s just that…well…Miss Edith was always so good to everyone. And I know everyone has their time to die, but I didn’t think her time would be on my watch, you know?” She gave a shudder for emphasis. “I don’t like death.”
“Nobody does.”
“I know. I guess death has to come, and it’s best if it comes for someone who’s lived a good, long life and is ready, you know? But still, I hate that it had to be like that.”
“Did the shop get a lot of visitors that morning?” Jill asked. “I mean, not clients, but drop-in visitors.”
Sheena’s gaze sharpened then. “Why? Are you checking something out?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure what I’m doing, unless it’s just a search for closure. You know how much I cared about Edith.”
Sheena nodded sympathetically.
“She was the one who convinced me to have a massage in the first place,” Jill said. “She was already in a robe Saturday afternoon when I got here. Do you know how long she’d been here when I arrived?”
Sheena’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, but I might be wrong. You know how these old folks who know everybody can talk for hours about nothing in particular.”
“Who else do you remember being here that day?”
“You’d probably get a better answer from Noelle. She was the one who opened up that morning.”
“She was on the computer in her office most of the time, working on August month-end things. She didn’t see many people.”
“Well, then Mom would have seen them, I guess. She’d left just a little before you got here.”
“Austin Barlow was here, I understand,” Jill said.
“Sure, you know how he always liked to check out the new businesses in town. He thought it was his civic duty to do that when he was mayor.”
“Did he have anything to say? Do you remember if he spoke with Edith?”
“I didn’t hear if he said anything to her. Remember when he got into an argument with her during that church business meeting, then somebody up and killed her cat? Some said Austin might’ve done it, but now we know it wasn’t him, don’t we?”
Jill shook her head. Austin’s son had killed Edith’s cat. What agonies Austin must have gone through when all of this painful information about Ramsay was revealed at last. “Did anyone else drop by that day?”
“Well, Dad came by to pick up Mom. They were going to a show in Branson that afternoon.” Sheena lowered her voice. “Before they left, Junior Short came by to talk to Dad.”
Junior Short. Another bad memory—possibly another connection? Austin had been buddies with Junior Short and Sheena’s father, Jed, when they were in high school. Edith had been the high-school principal at the time.
A vague unease stirred in Jill’s mind, but she dismissed it. Those three had been deeply involved in a high-school scandal, but that was far in the past. “Your dad and Junior are still friends after all these years?”
Sheena’s face scrunched up in a good imitation of her mother’s look of distaste. “I guess. I see them drinking coffee together sometimes at the bakery. He never comes around the house because Mom can’t stand the man.”
Jill nodded. Junior could be obnoxious. It was a trait he’d carried with him into adulthood and passed on to the next generation—a tendency to pick fights easily, and just generally irritate everyone around him. Possibly Jed felt sorry for him. Junior didn’t have many friends.
“I don’t suppose Cecil Martin came by for any reason?” Jill asked. “I thought I saw him walking from the direction of the spa when I passed him on the sidewalk on my way here that day.”
“Now that you mention it, he probably did come by to see Miss Edith.” Sheena grinned. “You know, I think those two might have been sweet on each other.”
“Sheena,” came a warning call from one of the doors near the end of the short hallway of massage rooms. Mary Marshall, Sheena’s mother, stepped into the hallway, wiping her hands with a paper towel. “Don’t start any rumors.”
“They’d been spending a lot of time together lately, Mom.”
“They were friends.” Mary strolled down the hallway and tossed her towels into the trash can beside the reception desk. Her gray-blond hair was pulled back in a tight knot, as if to draw taut the wrinkles that now marked her once-pretty face. Her makeup made her look washed-out, and her clothes did nothing to enhance barely existent curves on her slim frame.
Jill decided that if Sheena wanted to do a makeover, she could begin with her own flesh and blood.
Mary nodded at Jill; no smile of welcome touched her face.
Jill knew better than to take it personally. When Mary was in a mood, no one was spared her sharp words or brooding silences.
“Why do young people always have to make up some silly storybook romance for everything?” Mary complained to her daughter. “Like such a thing even exists.”
Jill studied Mary’s drawn expression in silence. Sheena’s mother was talking like a bitter old woman, not the wife of a man who seemed to still love her, and with whom she had a beautiful grown daughter.
Do I sound like that sometimes? Will I be a bitter old woman someday? Though Jill hadn’t been blessed with a long-lasting relationship, she did enjoy seeing evidence of love in the eyes of others. Cheyenne and Dane, for example. Or Karah Lee and Taylor. Noelle and Nathan.
“Like you always say,” Sheena murmured, “friendship is the best foundation for a marriage.”
“Can’t a man and a woman just be good friends without everyone in town making a big thing out of it?” Mary grumbled.
Jill found herself wondering the same thing. In spite of herself, a thought of Rex intruded. Jill and Rex had become friends soon after they started working together. The romance had developed some time afterward, hadn’t it? Or had she actually
