The Lexus turned away from Lyndsey as he pedaled into the Court. The color was unremarkable and the style like many others that Lyndsey passed by in the administration parking lot at the college. However, so few cars of its type made appearances in the Court that Lyn had no doubt that it was Peter.
“He was here all afternoon,” Lyndsey muttered. “What could be so compelling as to keep him here? And who was the other person with him?”
Lyndsey had nothing against his brother-in-law. He found him to be witty and amiable and he played a respectable game of tennis. Since Polly had gotten sick, though, he had become unbearably clingy and not just to his dying sister but, embarrassingly, to Lyn as well. Sometimes, Peter seemed to be trying to wrap his fingers around the past so tightly that nothing could slip away.
Normally, Lyndsey could make the trip home without a stop but he wound down a few blocks short, needing to stop and breathe. He had no consciousness of his surroundings until the flourish of a curtain alerted him. All the units in the Court looked the same but each owner could embellish with curtains, shrubbery, and “exactly one small, tasteful ornament.” In this case, the flower bed sported a wooden bird feeder with cardinals painted upon it.
“Bobbi,” Lyndsey murmured. “I wonder if she’s home yet. It would be rude of me to pass by without paying my respects.”
The curtain flicked again and Lyndsey caught a brief image of someone with wrinkled hands and a yellow sweater. At least the old lady was home. Lyndsey parked his bicycle and stowed his helmet. He announced himself at the front door with a knock.
Emerald opened the door and greeted him with a wide smile, waving him in. As he passed through the door, she locked her hand on his sleeve and said, “I wondered if you would come in, Professor. I’ve got coffee on the stove and I baked too. I’m so busy! I’ve had guests all day long. I love it.”
She steered him towards the dining room table. A small cat lay sprawled across the table’s center, licking one paw. Emerald hoisted the little cat up and admonished, “You naughty kitty! Just because you killed a few mice you think you should have anything you want. It doesn’t work that way, my dear.” To Lyndsey, she said, “Have a seat, Professor. Let me serve you.”
He still wondered if Bobbi was present but he refrained from asking. Instead, he concentrated on the jumble of antiques and dusty decorations displayed about him. His hands felt cold and damp.
Emmy returned with a full cup of coffee and a plate of cookies, both of which she set down, purring, “Here, my dear.” Everything smelled a little burnt. She pulled a little packet of white powder from her pocket and dropped it beside the coffee.
“Some fancy creamer,” she said. “Just for you.”
