Free Laid Out and Candle Lit by Ann Everett Page B

world. Gracie said I look like Pinky Dinky Doo. We’ve heard in the pink, tickled pink, pretty in pink, pink makes the boys wink , so I doubt you can come up with a new one.”
    He fought a smile. “Now what makes you think I’d come in here to tease you? I was going to say, now that I’ve seen you; pink is my new favorite color.” He locked his eyes on hers and released his smile.
    She grinned and took a breath, then turned to go.
    “Pinkalicious,” he said.
    She spun around to face him. “What did you say?”
    Ridge smiled. “I said pinkalicious. Anybody called you that?”
    She took her bottom lip between her teeth. “No.”
    “Well… they should have.”
    She smiled and raised her brows. “That’s a good one, Cooper,” she said and wheeled away.
     
    Dan pursed his lips and tightened his gaze. “Was that foreplay, too, Cooper?”
    Ridge’s smile stayed in place and he ignored the question.
     
    * * * * *
     
    The road leading to the Weston home was long, winding and paved. Ridge guessed the pavement probably cost as much as most homes in Brownsboro. Not visible from the main street, the house was a two-story sprawling contemporary, all stucco, glass and metal, and had a four-car garage. A workshop sat adjacent to the structure. And in the back yard was a pool with a guest house and cabana.
    Since Ridge had called ahead, the Weston’s housekeeper was expecting him. Elsie, an African-American in her sixties, was short, thin and pleasant. Her hair was slicked back and twisted into a knot at the base of her neck. Silver barrettes held the strands above her ears in place.
    She spoke softly when she answered the door. “Come in, sir. Can I offer you something to drink? Tea . . . water . . . coffee?”
    “No ma’am, but thank you. I’ve been eating and drinking all morning. The ladies at the church filled me up.” He removed his hat. “I appreciate you talking to me. I only have a few questions.”
    She motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa, and she took the chair facing him. “Yes sir. I’ll be happy to help any way I can. I still can’t believe Miz Marlene’s gone.”
     
    “Yes ma’am, I understand. How long have you worked for the Westons?”
    “Oh mercy. Almost twenty years.”
    Ridge smiled and placed his hat next to him on the sofa, then removed the small notebook from his shirt pocket. “Can you tell me what kind of relationship Mr. and Mrs. Weston had? Did they get along? I understand all couples argue, so I’m talking for the most part.”
    “Yes sir, they did. Of course, they didn’t spend much time together. Before the kids were gone, Miz Marlene was busy with their lives and activities. Once they left home, Mr. Carl was either at the bank or in his shop, and Miz Marlene at some sort of church or community meeting. At least two weekends a month she went to Dallas to be with the children.”
    Ridge continued making notations in his small black spiral and noticed how perfectly every item in the house was positioned. Every book on the shelves was arranged by height and color, figurines properly displayed, each magazine stacked neatly on the coffee table. He thought back to how Marlene had been described at her memorial service as perfect in every way. Her house confirmed it.
    He drew his attention back to Elsie. “Mr. Weston said he didn’t know his wife was missing until the next morning. Do you know if he sleeps that soundly? Don’t you think he might wake up at some point during the night and realize she wasn’t in bed?”
    Elsie tightened her lips and drew a breath. “He might have, if they slept together.”
    Ridge dipped his head down and rolled his eyes up. “So you’re saying Mr. and Mrs. Weston didn’t share a bed?”
    “Oh, no sir. They didn’t share a bedroom.”
    “How long had that been going on?”
    “They’ve never shared a bed since I’ve been working for ’em. Miz Marlene said Mr. Carl snored too loud and she couldn’t sleep in the same room with