Free Dressed To Kill by Lynn Cahoon Page A

Carrie looked at me, then she listed off my order, down to the vanilla milk shake. Pointing at Amy, she said, “You will have a double-stack cheeseburger, curly fries, and onion rings, because you had a light breakfast, and a chocolate shake.”
    Amy pushed the menu toward Carrie. “Ha, you’re wrong. I want a cookies-and-cream milk shake.”
    “Whatever,” Carrie mumbled and picked up the menus. “I’ll have your drinks out soon.”
    When Carrie was out of earshot, Amy leaned close, taking a look around the crowded diner before she spoke. “I think she had a business situation to talk to him about. I kept hearing Sherry’s name come up in the discussion. Did you know that Pat has forty percent ownership in Vintage Duds?”
    “Seriously? I thought Sherry had gotten the start-up money from her folks. At least that’s what Greg said.” I thought about Pat’s words. Were they meant as a plea for me to step aside so Sherry and Greg could live happily ever after again? Kids held a torch for their parents’ relationship longer than either of the married couple. Maybe Pat felt Sherry and Greg were her parental relationship. As sick as that sounded.
    Our shakes arrived, and I sipped on the pure, cold vanilla and smiled. Sweet, icy goodness. What else was there to say about an ice cream treat on a hot day? I realized Amy had started talking again and tuned in to her words.
    “That was what Sherry told everyone. But the real story, according to what I could hear from Mayor Baylor’s off ice, was that her parents refused her the money, thinking the idea was another one of her get-rich-quick schemes.” Amy shrugged. “I guess Pat got a good settlement in her last divorce, so she helped her friend out.”
    “They must be really close.” I picked up a fry from the basket Carrie had popped on the table with Amy’s meal without even stopping to talk. I guess we’d insulted her waitress mojo by questioning her knowledge of our usual order. I wasn’t worried; Carrie couldn’t stay mad long. Her boss, on the other hand, could hold a grudge for years. Lille still gave me the stink eye for keeping time with her last loser boyfriend, even though I hadn’t been interested in Ray, not at all.
    Amy broke an onion ring in half. “So you wouldn’t bankroll me in a new storefront? Maybe a surfing shop?” Her eyebrows raised. “That’s not a bad idea at all. South Cove could use a board store, and I could give lessons, and . . .”
    I held up a hand. “Not going to happen. I’ve got my hands full owning Coffee, Books, and More, even if Aunt Jackie treats me like a silent partner. No way would I start another business.”
    Her smile widened. “Who said I wanted your help with the store? In my daydream, you’re the perfect Daddy Warbucks and it’s a silent movie track.”
    “You’re crazy.” It wasn’t like I couldn’t have used the Miss Emily fund, as I’d come to call the money I’d inherited from my friend, but I was superstitious. You never needed money until you didn’t have any. And with the age of both my house and the building where the shop sat, I figured we were just holding off the inevitable. I bit into the fish. Heaven. Crunchy, with a solid filet inside and seasoned to perfection. I could eat fish every day and twice on Sunday.
    “I’d probably get bored anyway. I never was much of a salesman. Even when I had to sell cookies for the troop, my mom bought most of my allotment because I didn’t want to go door to door.” Amy picked up her cheeseburger and started devouring the sandwich. We ate in silence.
    “You know I’d do anything for you, including bankrolling your business, but it feels wrong somehow.” I paused, not knowing what else to say. I realized I’d also broken Rule Number Fourteen in the self-help book I’d glanced through that morning: Never be the first to talk after an uncomfortable silence. It makes you appear weak and vulnerable. I remembered it because my reaction had been