“He was especially interested in the dagger. Said it seemed to be the only thing in the trove thatdidn’tgive off an evil vibe. When I told him how it had chased me around the room, he said that he got the oddest feeling that it was trying to escape!”
I had no idea how to respond to that. To be honest, I was sick to death of magic daggers. If I never heard of another magical dagger in my life, I’d be perfectly happy.
“When the medical examiner releases Cordelia’s … remains, we’ll arrange a cremation. Aloysius says that’s what she wanted. I would have expected her to demand a huge funeral with all the ritual and ceremony she always believed she deserved in life, but he says no.”
“Maybe it’s just that he can’t bear the idea of going through all that,” I ventured.
She sighed. “Maybe. It’s his call, though. And, frankly, she has no other family or friends, from what I can tell. Maybe it’s better this way.”
We chatted for another minute about nothing important, and I told her I’d be there for her, no matter what she needed.
Then I thought of something I wanted to ask. “Did they ever, pardon me if this is insensitive, Susan, but did they ever find the murder weapon?”
“No. Nobody has found the gun yet. Henrietta must have taken it with her.”
When we hung up, I felt vaguely dissatisfied with the entire conversation. Susan was so sure Henrietta was the killer, but the woman who’d sat at my table eating an omelet had seemed to be truly shocked by the news.
The chimes over the door sounded, and I looked up to see tiny Mrs. Frost totter in, her white curls piled high on her head. She must have just come from the beauty salon. Ninety years old or not, she’d never miss her weekly appointment.
“Hello, Mrs. Frost.” I rushed over to her in case I needed to take her arm, not worried about touching her because she’d always been a hugger, and I’d had many, many hugs from Mrs. Frost when I was a child. She’d never triggered my visions, which only kicked in on the first time touching someone. Even if I’d touched them before my “gift” had kicked in, there seemed to be an inoculation effect.
“Hello, Tess.” She thrust her cane at me to hold and dug around in her enormous bag. After several moments, she pulled out her miniature crossbow and thrust it at me. “I want to sell my bow.”
This was as shocking as having a felon show up on my doorstep and demand breakfast. Mrs. Frost was a legend with that bow. She took top prizes at archery competitions every time she entered one.
“But why? You love that bow! Oh, did you get another one?”
She shook her head, but I saw her lips tremble. “No more bows for me.”
“But why not?”
She peered up at me, and I was surprised to see how cloudy her eyes were. Had they been that way for a long time? I couldn’t remember. “Because I can’t see to shoot it anymore. Tess, I’m going blind.”
21
Tess
Mrs. Frost was not going blind.
She told me, after I flipped the shop sign toClosed, that her doctor had diagnosed her with cataracts and said she needed surgery. What she didn’t say, but was clear as day, was that the idea of surgery terrified her.
“Let’s go sit down in the back, Mrs. Frost. I’ll get you some tea.”
She took my arm and carefully walked next to me. “I’ve never had surgery, Tess. Not once in all my years. I’m not going to start letting somebody cut me up now,” she declared.
“Never?”
How was that possible? Most people had at least tonsils out or something. Never in ninety years? I helped her to a chair next to the tiny table and went to make her tea. “Sugar? I don’t have lemon or cream, but I have milk.”
“Just sugar, please. And no, never. I never will, either. What if they mess up? What if the doctor skipped that day in med school? Or was hungover and fell asleep, so they don’t know how to do the cataract surgery? What then?” She scowled. “I watch60 Minutes.I know what’s what.”
“Well, I understand your concern, but I’m sure they don’t let just anybody perform the surgery. Your eye doctor must know experts in this kind of thing …”
She stubbornly shook her head. “No. You’re young and healthy, Tess. You just don’t understand. Mr. Frost gets back from the rehab from his hip surgery this week, and I’m going to hire someone to come in and take care of things. Since I won’t be able to see.”
I gave her a cup of tea with extra sugar and then sat down and took her fragile, trembling hand. I was ashamed to realize that I’d never really thought of what she might be going through these days. I’d taken over a casserole and a pie for her when Mr. Frost first went into the hospital, and I’d sent him a card and some car magazines—he loved classic cars. But I’d never checked up on her after that. Too caught up in my life, I guess.
“Mrs. Frost. How about if I go with you to the doctor? Eleanor will be in after lunch, and she can take the shop for the rest of the day. You and I can talk to the doctor and ask a million questions, so we can get every answer you want.”
