“What’s with the slick new ride in your driveway?” Mrs.Daughtrey came over and leaned against the display case, casually examining her nails which only bolstered the syndicate association in my head. She was the only one in the group that hadn’t greyed yet, but I suspected that was because she’d sworn her niece, the local hairstylist, into secrecy.
I stared back at the group of four women fanned out before me, taking in how different they were. But, they shared a common goal—digging up information regarding the going-ons in Westwend. Today’s tactic seemed to be a bit of good cop, bad cop. Instead of responding to the question, my gaze trailed over to Mrs. Lambert as she squinted up toward the menu on the chalkboard wall behind my head. Her eyes were magnified comically behind the dark brown frames of her glasses, her jaw working back and forth as she tried to decipher the words written in white chalk. Clearing my throat slightly to catch her attention, I slid a paper menu toward her.
“Well?” Mrs. Fairchild interjected, hands on her hips and leaning forward toward the counter like she could intimidate me with the entirety of her five-foot nothing stature.
“It’s not mine.” I said, knowing that wouldn’t be enough, but still hoping otherwise as I moved behind the register. Mrs. Lambert shuffled over, paper menu grasped between her hands and the kind smile on her face melting my heart just a touch.
“Whose is it, then?” The huff of annoyance that came from Mrs. Anderson sounded downright indignant. “I think I have a right to know who's hanging out around my property, don’t you?”
No, not particularly. But, how did you say that politely to a woman who would ream you six ways to Sunday and then tattle to your parents like a five year old if she had her feathers even slightly ruffled?
“Do y’all want your usual tea?” I asked instead, as I rang up Mrs. Lambert’s order before she happily made her way toward a nearby table to wait.
“I want you to be honest with me!” Mrs. Anderson huffed again,pilfering through her purse to find her wallet before passing over her card.
Chris and I exchanged a small side glance. One way or another this information would get back to them, but it might be better to get ahead of it while I could.
“My dad just hired a new attorney. He’s going to be staying with me for a while until he can find another place in town.” I concluded, moving past Chris to set up four ceramic mugs so their herbal mixture could steep after the remaining two members paid.
Mrs. Anderson’s eyes lit up, and her defiant posture seemed to relax as she watched me move along, preparing their drinks. “Oh? I had wondered if you had found yourself a woman, but a new attorney, you say?”
Turning to grab the milk from the fridge, I grimaced slightly. If Derek thought moving to Westwend would be a change, he’d be right in a way, but he’d be trading big city luxuries for small town inquiries into his life.
“Is that who you were with at T&T on Friday?” Mrs. Daughtery asked, gingerly lowering herself into one of the wooden chairs at their table.
I hesitated, knowing that once I fed into the questions, they’d never stop coming. “Yes.” I admitted after a pause.
Mrs. Daughtery let out a small gasp, her face lighting up with excitement. “Sandra said he’s quite the good looking man. Tall, too. Shame he didn’t notice she left her number for him.”
I made a noncommittal hum, trying to appear too busy to continue my end of the conversation as I plucked tea bags from the steaming water.
“Is he single?” Mrs. Lambert piped up next, her magnified blue eyes practically shining as she stared me down.
Three other sets of eyes locked onto me making my skin crawl. I still wasn’t ready to examine why the idea of Derek getting with some girl in town made my stomach clench. Plus,giving out information about him behind his back felt like I was betraying his trust in a weird way.
Glancing over, I tried to send Chris a covert look, hoping that she’d somehow help me out of this bind. Instead, she propped her chin in her hand and raised an eyebrow. So much for that.
Shooting her a scowl while scooping the mugs together, I made my way around the counter. Setting one before each of the women, I sent them all a stern look. “Honestly, y’all know how I feel about sharing business that isn’t mine to tell,” I stated flatly.
“We’re just trying to learn a little bit more about our new neighbor. What’s the harm in that?” Mrs. Daughtrey blew gently on her steaming mug.
“I’m sure you’ll meet Derek yourselves once he gets settled and is out a bit more,” I retorted, trying to be as diplomatic as possible without getting anyone's panties in a bunch.
“Oh, Derek, was it?” Mrs. Fairchild giggled like a schoolgirl. “That’s a good, strong name.”
Shaking my head, I let out a small sigh, suddenly exhausted as I made my way back behind the register.
“Why is he staying with you, though?” Mrs. Anderson continued, holding her mug before her on the table before taking a gentle sip.
God, give me strength and mercy. “Look, I don’t know all the details, but he just accepted the job, and we all know that the places in town are already booked for the summer. Dad is insisting he stays in town, though.” I held up my hand just as Mrs. Fairchild opened her mouth to ask another question.
“Like I said, I’m not saying anything more. It’s not my story to tell.” I concluded, already feeling guilty at what I had given away. The Stitches gals all seemed to settle at that, appeased with having just a small tidbit more than they did coming in, but I sincerely hoped I hadn’t just signed Derek’s interrogation warrant.
CHAPTER 5
Derek
“I swear,if he turns out to be a serial killer, Iwillsay I told you so at your funeral.” Lucy’s voice came through over the speaker of my phone, her spinning ceiling fan the only visual on our FaceTime call. I propped my arm behind my head while I leaned back against the wall, holding my phone out before me.
