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Hilda looked him straight in the eye."I love a man who lies to make an old woman feel better."
"So what kind of artists came to Laurel Woods? I live right behind the place and I'm fascinated that an artistic community once thrived there."
"Well,thrivedis a relative term, but there were all sorts of creative types-weavers, painters, some guy who made sculptures out of old tires. Some were older, many were young. All were interesting.”
He still had no insight into his mother. He'd hoped Hilda would mention Calliope in some manner, but then why would she? As she'd stated, all kinds of artists flocked to Magnolia Bend on the whim of a rich man with a bad toupee.
"Of course when Simeon died, his nephew did away with all those crazy artists-his nephew's words, not mine. None of us were surprised by Bart's refusal to continue housing the artists since Simeon's death came under suspicious circumstances. It was-"
The doorbell rang. Damn.
Hilda rose and pressed her hands against her pants, a habit her cousin Abigail shared with her. "Right on time. I had worried people might be late." She headed toward the foyer, leaving Leif to wish she'd finished her sentence. Was his mother involved in Simeon Harvey's death? Was that why she was so terrified?
He couldn't bring it up to Hilda again without her growing suspicious, but an internet search could net him more info, and if that failed, the parish library no doubt had copies of theMagnolia Bend Heraldin their database.
"Come right on in, Mr. Godchaux. You, too, Violet. Oh, and here comes Abigail," Hilda said, stepping back so a man with silver hair and a woman with a gianormous cross necklace could enter. Leif would bet his Taylor guitar the woman was the Baptist preacher's wife.
He rose and shook hands with the other committee members. Mr. Godchaux settled on the far end of the settee and eyed the Scotch like a dog eyeing a bone. Violet eyed it like it was a porno mag.
Abigail entered, looking a little softer around the edges in a fluffy sweater. The peach color didn't necessarily flatter her, but it did make her appear more approachable. Hilda eyed the sweater much the same way Violet eyed the booze.
"Hello, everyone," Abigail said, perching on the edge of a straight-backed chair Hilda must have brought from the dining room to accommodate the meeting. "Does everyone know Leif? He's the art department head at St. George's."
Leif smiled, first at Abigail and then at the two others. "I missed the meeting in October. Nice to meet you. It'll be cool working on this committee."
Mr. Godchaux said, "Yes, cool. You can call me Ed."
Hilda clapped her hands. "Now all we're waiting on is-"
The doorbell rang.
Hilda spun toward the door and Leif took the moment to look at Abigail. "Hello, neighbor. Thanks for introducing me."
Abigail crossed her legs. She wore a pair of not so sensible heels and a skirt that looked a bit shorter than normal. Being that the temperature had dropped in the past couple of days, he wondered why she'd elected to show off those very nice legs.
For him?
God, he hoped so.
"Hello," Abigail said with a tight smile. "I see you brought some refreshment after all, Leif."
He shrugged. "I know you said it wasn't necessary but I'm indulgent."
The preacher's wife frowned and studied her cuticles. Ed reached for the bottle.
"Nothing like a little toddy on a cold day," Leif said, looking pointedly at Abigail's bared legs. She tucked the sides of her skirt under her thighs.
"Indeed," Ed said as the sound of masculine voices filled the foyer. A second later Abigail's ex-husband and a tall man with a thinning hairline entered the room.
Hilda gestured to the other chairs set up near Abigail. "Cal, Bart, have a seat. We need to get started."
"Hello, everyone," Cal said.
Abigail closed her eyes as if she were sending up a prayer. Heck, maybe she was. Her ex popped up like a weed, unwanted, but impervious to the fact. The only silver lining to having charming Cal show up and surprise Abigail was the recognition that her high heels and skirt hadn't been for her ex's benefit. The thought warmed him as much as the Scotch did.
"Mother decided the best way for me to reaffirm myself as a good citizen of Magnolia Bend was to take the family's place on the committee. Looks like you guys are stuck with me."
Abigail looked as if Medusa had glanced her way-completely stone-faced.
