Page 27 of Wild Tides
“It’s healing nicely. Just stay off it for another few weeks. You can discontinue using the crutches if you haven’t already. The boot should be enough to keep it immobilized.”
It should have been good news, but I couldn’t help wanting the time to go faster. As much as I loved having Violet with me, until she was truly free, I wouldn’t be either. And I needed her relieved of all sense of duty before I pushed forward with my plans.
“Thanks, Dr.”
Dr. Underwood smiled broadly enough, I could almost hear the ghost of a cheer in her voice. “See the front desk. I want to see you back in two weeks. Then we can get you into physical therapy.”
There was nothing about her demeanor to suggest that her husband was currently out on bail for art fraud. Then again, what had I expected? Chaz Underwood staunchly denied the charges. And none of his victims would press charges. It made my author-sense tingle. There was more to the plot than a simple swindle.
I stopped to chat with Dr. Underwood’s receptionist and made my follow-up appointment while Vi ran out to her car. She’d just pulled up beneath the awning at the front of the medical center when I hobbled out.
“Can I take you to lunch?” I asked.
She’d been short with me all morning. Feeding her was always a solid strategy.
“I need to drop you off at home, then get to the shop,” Vi said.
“Did you see anything odd at the clinic this morning?” I asked, not wanting to argue. I’d already interrupted her life and her work schedule enough.
She cast a quick glance at me. “Odd how?”
I shrugged. “Not sure. I just found the whole thing with Chaz and the art gallery off. The Underwoods aren’t hard-up forfunds. Did he really need to plant paintings by his dog in his gallery? And if he did it to launder money, why in the world were people buying? Not everyone in his purchase records was rich or connected. Lucy and Clay noticed several local clinic patients snapping up art.”
“Like who?”
“Deb Jones and Jack Reynolds.”
Vi frowned. “Deb was my high school biology class partner. I run into her occasionally at the bakery. I think she works today. There’s something about trying not to vomit while you dissect a frog together that really bonds you.” She shuddered. “I can visit Harry at the bakery and say hi, try to nose around a bit.”
“Counteroffer: let’s grab pizza there for lunch. Two birds, one stone.”
“Fine.” Vi sighed deeply. Her reluctance was palpable.
Maybe the way to her forgiveness wasn’t pizza, but it didn’t hurt to try.
Violet parked in front of the bakery, hovering with a baleful eye as I made my way slowly up the stairs. We placed our order when it was our turn at the counter. I loved their potato and Gorgonzola pizza. The combination sounded weird, but it was delicious.
Violet ordered a slice of their arugula and lemon pizza. She looked at the bakery case and added, “Oh, and he’s also buying me one of those small key lime pies.”
I shrugged at our cashier. “Better add a raspberry oat butter tart while you’re at it. And maybe a couple of croissants in a box?”
Violet settled at a table; her gaze fixed on the busy bakery staff behind the counter. “I don’t see Deb today.” She sounded disappointed.
“Darn.” I kept my voice monotone. “We’ll have to come to the bakery again. Shucks.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “Where’s your loyalty? Theyarethe competition.”
“No, they’re not.”
“I sell fresh baked goods at the Salty Pantry. They sell bread and pastries.”
“You bake artisanal breads and cookies with sea salt. They make pizza and croissants.”
“What is a croissant, if not an artisanal bread?”
“You both sell out every day. I’d say there are enough hungry bread-monsters on island to go around.”
“Maybe.” She said it doubtfully, as if she didn’t want to give up arguing with me.
