We’ve had the same family doctor for years and years. She was our doctor before the boys were born, and Ty’s over thirty now. When we started with her, we chose her because her office is close to our house, convenient. We were young, healthy, and we usually only saw her once a year, and we liked her. Then insurance programs divided, and she went with the Parkview network, and we were with Lutheran. It meant that we had to pay a little more when we went to see her, but we decided to stay with her. We liked her, her office, and her staff.

In early April, though, Parkview announced in the newspaper that they were going to stop treating anyone that wasn’t in their network. I asked my favorite nurse, “Does that mean we’ll have to find a new doctor?” “I’d guess yes,” she told me. My sister’s doctor had retired the end of last year, and she’d started seeing a new, young doctor. She really liked him and recommended him. So, on Friday, HH and I went to meet him. And he’s wonderful. Low-key, droll, funny, and THOROUGH. He asked us more questions than we’ve been asked in years. And he came up with all kinds of ideas that might help us. I think he’s going to be a fresh, new start for us, and I couldn’t be happier.

HH hates change. I tolerate it. But this time, we’re both looking forward to it. We’d been dreading it before we met Dr. Wieging, but he’s at the Brooklyn Clinic, and they have their own lab. That, in itself, is going to make our lives easier. This time around, I think change is going to be good.

HH has reached the end of some of his favorite TV shows. Rock the Block ended, so no more high-end, extravagant, money’s no object home improvement shows. He loved seeing what $250,000 in designing money could come up with. Nothing mundane.

We watched the last episode of the new season’s Somebody Feed Phil, too. It’s a fun show, but I have to say, a lot of the wonderful food Phil tries in different countries is nothing that would excite me. I’m too middle-class. No sea urchin uni or tripe for me. I’m more of a taco or burger type girl. I like international flavors–Korean fried chicken and yakitori–but nothing too out there.

One of HH’s top favorites is The Tournament of Champions where top chefs compete against each other, but it ended, too. And why any chef would put himself/herself that through that kind of misery is beyond me. HH wanted Jet Tila to win this year, and he came close, but no cigar. And the two chefs who made it to the final battle looked like they’d been put through the wringer. Too much stress.

But now HH is flailing around, trying to find something fun to watch. And he returned to Agatha Christie. “There has to be one we’ve never seen,” he told me. So we ended up finding Witness For the Prosecution, a short story of Christie’s I’d read forever ago and barely remembered. HH will never ask for my advice again. All I remembered was that it was a clever courtroom drama with a great twist at the end. Which it had. But I didn’t remember how DEPRESSING the lawyer who defended the case was and what a sad life he had (at least in this 2016 version). We ended the movie and went to bed, determined to NEVER watch that movie again. I redeemed myself with Miss Marple’s TOWARDS ZERO later that week, but I can tell I’d better up my choices this summer. The Great British Baking Show, another one of HH’s favorites, doesn’t start for a long time.

My grandson and his wife just had their little baby boy. They live in Indy, so sent us Face Time with them and Clark. Okay, I know I’m prejudiced, but this kid looks like a sweetheart, like he’s already in tune with the world and ready to enjoy life.

I’m a bit of a horoscope fan, so I looked up his birthdate in my book, The Secret Language of Birthdays, Personology Profiles for each Day of the Year, and guess what the book said for April 16th? The Day of Cosmic Comedy. “Laughter is something that comes naturally to those born on April 16th, and with it, the ability to let others laugh, too.” What a wonderful life plan.

Our daughter from Florida is flying in on May 2nd to see the baby, so our little family in Fort Wayne is going to drive down to Indy and rent hotel rooms for May 2nd and 3rd to see her and the new baby. We’ll leave later on Saturday to drive home, and Robyn’s flying back to Indy early on Sunday. It will be fun seeing everyone and meeting our new great-grandson. I’m planning on making some food ahead for the new parents for days they don’t want to cook. I can’t help it. I love to feed people. I’m making Italian meatloaf because Emily loves it, a pork loin with veggies because it’s easy, and a breakfast casserole because both Ty and Emily like them. Then I want to make potato soup (it was one of Ty’s favorites when he was a little boy), a chicken and orzo soup because it’s super healthy, and a gumbo that they both love. That should buy them some lazy time when they don’t want to bother with supper or lunch.

And even though I’m going to have to pry my daughter’s fingers off the baby, I get a turn to hold him. We’re looking forward to meeting him.

I just finished reading Lynn Cahoon’s Murder in a Tourist Town novella that’s a prequel to her Tourist Town mysteries. And I was surprised by how short it was. Only 119 pages. But I love short stories, so I’m not sure that was my problem. I’m a fan of C.S. Boyack’s The Hat series, and I looked up their length. The last one was 146 pages, but it felt fully developed. Then I looked up Julia Donner’s last story in her Regency Friendship Series. About 146 pages. And it was completely and happily satisfying. Then I looked up the Harbor Pointe Inn series, which I really enjoyed, and one of them was only 109 pages, another one 117. But they felt complete.

So what made the difference? All of the other stories developed at their own speed. The characters drove the story from beginning to end. Murder in a Tourist Town started like that, and I fell for the characters in South Cove. I wanted Jill to leave her exhausting job as a divorce lawyer and find happiness. I wanted her to open a coffee shop/bookstore in South Cove. And I fell in love with Miss Emily. But then the author moved from Part One of the story to Part Two, and it felt like she gave me an epilogue–how everything worked out–and TOLD me what happened instead of just letting it develop. The ending felt rushed. It didn’t have to. Like I said, one of the Harbor Pointe Inn novellas was only 109 pages, but those pages developed the story and characters.

I’m still glad I read Murder in a Tourist Town. It’s a prequel to the rest of the series, and I learned new things about the characters I’ve been following for a long time. But the ending felt rushed. I’m happy with how everything worked out, but a few more pages wouldn’t have hurt to let the story move at its own pace.

One of my favorite movies is Midnight In Paris where Owen Wilson, a would-be novelist, sits on a church step at midnight and a vintage car pulls up to invite him along for a night on the town, then he’s whisked back to a time when F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and other artists are coming into their own in the city. The actor Corey Stoll plays Hemingway and Kathy Bates plays his agent, Gertrude Stein. As a writer, it was fun to hear their discussions about what makes a great book. Hemingway definitely had strong opinions. So, I got a kick out of watching Steve Lund play Hemingway in the latest episode of FRANKIE DRAKE Mysteries that HH and I watched.

The setting for the show is 1920s Toronto, and Frankie Drake is the city’s first female detective. Frankie Drake is nothing like Miss Scarlet in Miss Scarlet and The Duke, two Victorian era detectives. Miss Scarlet is serious about proving herself and earning a good reputation. Frankie is not above bending the law and social expectations to have a little fun. Hemingway is a newspaper reporter who irritates her. It’s mutual. He’s ambitious to write more than just columns for the paper, so he and Frankie end up working together to solve a murder so that he can have the big scoop of a story. For me, Lund did a good job of playing his part.

The Frankie Drake Mysteries is a little bit flippant, a little naughty, and so far has had solid mystery plots. Makes for some light entertainment on a Friday night.

I’m reading Mae Clair’s The Keeping Place right now. And this is going to sound odd, but I can relate to SO many of the characters in the book that’s it’s poking at old memories and stirring them to life.

Glory, a faded movie star, has two daughters–Nicole and Janie. Janie–the younger daughter–is an eccentric, old soul. She keeps notebooks and makes lists, collects odd tidbits as treasures. She doesn’t fit in. I was the oldest daughter in our house, but I was like that as a kid. Lived inside my own head a lot. Only had a few close friends and wasn’t interested in meeting more. Wrote lots of notes but always threw them away. Never even considered being popular. I was happy doing my own thing.

Nicole, her older sister, is more together, more social. My younger sister was a lot more of a people person than I was. Loved attention. Loved boys. Nicole has a crush on Vin, and they plan to get married someday. Vin wants to be a cop like his dad, and they envision a happy life staying in their hometown.

Glory came back to Hornwood after the dream of being a famous movie star didn’t happen. She took over running her parents’ restaurant and becomes a minor celebrity, bringing tourists in to see her. She and her girls have a good life, recognizing and accommodating each other’s flaws until Nicole takes Janie to her senior party for the last day of school, and Janie disappears. Everyone assumes she fell into the creek and drowned, but years later, her remains are found in an old, derelict shack near the railroad tracks, and her death is ruled a homicide.

Glory blames Nicole for not watching over her sister like she was supposed to. The strain between them becomes so much, Nicole leaves Hornwood to live with her father and his new wife. I’m not sure exactly why it happened, but my mom and I grew apart when I started college. Mom thought college was a waste of time for a woman and wanted me to go to business school. I wanted to be a teacher, and the riff just sort of expanded over time. Even after I had our two girls, Mom and I never quite healed. We loved each other, but there was always a hurdle we didn’t cross.

Nicole’s dad’s new wife, Amelia, is a treasure and in her gentle way, helps Nicole heal. And then the news that Janie was murdered, not drowned, emerges, and Nicole returns to Hornwood to find out what really happened on the night Janie died. She has to face the many people she left behind, and to her surprise, none of them blame her for what happened.

I’m only halfway through THE KEEPING PLACE, but the characters in this book have sucked me in. Sometimes, I wish I were a faster reader but not this time. I want to savor every parcel of this story.

My grandson and his wife had our family’s celebration at their house in Indy this year. My stomach/system is doing a lot better, but I didn’t feel safe making the two-hour drive there and back, so we stayed home. My sister was our only guest for the holiday meal. Usually, my cousin would come, too, but she said St. Anne’s was doing an Easter egg hunt and party so she wanted to stay at the nursing home. That pretty much shows how exciting HH and I were this year.

My sister’s not a big fan of ham and the traditional sides, so I decided to make one of her favorite meals instead–beef and noodles over mashed potatoes. Green beans with pearl onions on the side, and a lemon sponge cake for dessert. We had way too much food, but I planned it that way, so Mary could take a bunch of leftovers home with her. I don’t monkey around when it comes to beef and noodles. I go all out since Mary loves them so much. I roasted two chuck roasts to shred for the meat, added chopped carrots, onions, and celery. Then I built from there before adding the Amish noodles. They were a big success.

Next year, Ty and his wife will have a baby to bring to Easter. Their little boy is due any day now. We’re all getting excited. So next year, Easter will be a big deal. This year, the nice, low-key celebration was relaxing and nice.

A Beggar’s Bargain

Hunter popped into Noira’s office the next morning. “Did you go to see Jessica?”

“How did you know?”

“I gave you the bar she worked at. I knew either you or Speed would take the bait. What did you think?”

“It’s one of the two women. Either Elizabeth is ticked because Merit was going to marry his party girl, or the party girl’s miffed because something went wrong.”

“I talked to a few of Merit’s friends, and they said he was beginning to regret losing Elizabeth, that he was thinking about ending the drinking and partying and hoping she might take him back. His best friend told him it was about time he got smart again, that it was time to get over his midlife crisis or whatever it was that made him stupid for a while.”

Noira had to chuckle. “Best friends tell it like it is.”

“This guy did. He said Merit had decided to go to see Elizabeth on the night he died.”

“Did Elizabeth know he was coming?”

“No, he was afraid she wouldn’t let him in the house. He meant to knock on her door and surprise her.”

“Did Jessica know he was going?”

“No, he told her that the guys had invited him to meet them for a night out.”

“Did he meet Elizabeth?”

Hunter shook his head. “She swears he never showed up.”

“Did Jessica work that night?”

“Yes, but you have to remember. Merit was shot at three in the morning. Her shift was done by then.”

Noira let out an exasperated sigh. “If he was going to see Elizabeth, why wait until three a.m.?”

“His bestie thinks he was probably drinking, trying to work up the courage.”

Noira could relate to that. She’d gotten plenty of calls from friends in the wee hours after they’d had too much to drink. She tried to focus on something solid, specific. “Did anyone see any car or person if they looked out their windows?”

“A man who lives on a corner saw a car’s taillights turn out of the subdivision and speed away.”

“Elizabeth wouldn’t do that. She’d walk into her house and pretend nothing happened.”

“True, but maybe the driver took off because he didn’t want to be involved in a shooting and have the police question him.”

Noira’s thoughts went in another direction. “If someone stole Elizabeth’s gun, how did he get past her security system? How did he get in her house? Did Merit have a key and her security code?”

“Elizabeth changed them when he dumped her.”

“So, who’d have both?”

Hunter frowned. “A good question. I’m going to look into that.”

He started to stand when there was a quick knock on the door and Elizabeth stepped into the office again. Noira motioned her to the chair Hunter was exiting. “We were just talking about you.”

Elizabeth had her blond hair pulled up in a careless knot today, highlighting her high cheekbones. She wore slim, black pants and a zebra print blouse. Stylish. But she had dark circles under her eyes, and her eyes were puffy. “Have you learned anything? I talked to Merit’s best friend, and he said Merit was going to ask me to take him back, that he wanted to quit partying and drinking.”

“What would you have said?” Noira asked.

“Yes.” Elizabeth pressed a hand to her forehead and winced, trying to massage away a headache. “I’m still not over him. I’d have given it another try.”

She sounded sincere. Noira believed her. “Can you think of any way someone got into your house to steal your gun? Wouldn’t your security system have gone off?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, and the only person who has a key and my code is my neighbor so that she can come and feed my cat when I’m out of town. But Toni would never steal my gun. Never. We’re friends. We’re there for each other.”

Hunter rubbed his stubbly jaw. He must have been in a hurry this morning and hadn’t taken the time to shave. “Has anyone new been in or out of Toni’s house?”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in surprise. “She had a new cleaning woman for two weeks, but the girl already quit. Didn’t like the job.”

“Did you ever see her?”

“Only a glimpse. She had platinum hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she had a great figure. No uniform could hide her curves.”

Noira and Hunter locked gazes. Elizabeth frowned. “What?”

“I think you just described Merit’s party girl, Jessica.”

Elizabeth spread her hands in surrender, lost. “Why would she clean houses?”

“One house. Your neighbor’s. And I’m guessing she got your house key and pass-code.”

Elizabeth’s face drained of color. Noira grabbed her cane to go to her. “Are you all right?”

Elizabeth grabbed the edge of Noira’s desk and took deep breaths. “She killed Merit and planned to pin his murder on me. Why?”

Hunter answered. “I’d guess she wasn’t happy he was going to ditch her and go back to you.”

“But I didn’t hate her when she stole him from me. She just made me realize what a stickler I am, too goal oriented. And believe me, she went all out. Flirted with him and invited him to parties.”

Hunter headed for the door. “You and Jessica have nothing in common. And that’s a good thing. She’s a sore loser. But I want to get all my t’s crossed before I arrest her.”

Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped and all of the energy drained out of her. “Can I stay a minute to get myself together?”

“Stay as long as you want. Can I call someone for you? Have a friend meet you here?” Noira felt sorry for her. Justice was great, but it didn’t bring a loved one back.

Half an hour later, Elizabeth’s sister came to drive her home. Noira waited a few minutes, then called Speed to tell him the latest before he had to go to work. He worked seven to seven tonight. They’d eat supper together before he had to leave. Then she’d have the evening to herself.

It had been a rough day. Her thoughts and feelings were in turmoil. She’d buy a bottle of wine on her way home, then watch The Thirteenth Warrior. Vikings and violence held her attention. It almost always fixed whatever ailed her.

I was going to post the second part of LOVE GONE AWRY this morning, but workmen came to change out electrical wires on our side of the street, and we didn’t have any electricity for three and a half hours. It was 27 degrees outside. I finally put two huge soup pans on the stove filled with hot water, hand lit our gas burners, and boiled the water to get a little warmth in the house. HH and I wrapped in blankets, and things were tolerable. Anyway, this is later than I expected, but here’s part 2 of Noira and Speed’s story:

#

The alarm went off, and Noira pressed her hand to her head. Pain. This was going to be Hangover Wednesday. Speed had the day off. She should have gone to bed at a decent time last night, but they just kept watching one Avenger after another. And now, she was tired, grumpy, and had to go to work.

When she was young, she’d always wanted super powers. But after watching the movies, she’d decided everything was still a struggle because your enemies had super powers, too. No matter what, Life just wasn’t supposed to be easy, she guessed.

Groaning, she got out of bed, downed a few aspirin, and stumbled to the kitchen for coffee. If anyone walked in her office this morning, God help them. She was going to look like a wreck that barely survived.

The first person who burst through the door was Detective Hunter. He looked at her and laughed. “Speed must have had the night off last night.”

She glared. “What do you want?”

“Elizabeth’s old fiancee, Merit Lamrose, was shot early Saturday morning close to her home.”

She held up a hand. “Speed already told me that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Did he tell you Merit was shot with her gun?”

“No, but that figures, doesn’t it? I mean, either she faked that the gun was stolen or someone did steal it to make it look like she shot him.”

“What’s your gut telling you?” Hunter asked.

“I think someone’s setting her up.”

“And you base that on…?”

“She’s too put together to want to wear an orange jumpsuit.”

Another bark of laughter. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. I talked to the new girlfriend. A party girl. Not gorgeous but sexy. Works at a bar on Brooklyn Avenue. You should drink something with electrolytes. It might help.” And he left the office.

She winced when the door slammed shut. Then she got down to work. She’d learned to persevere, no matter what happened the night before. But she was grateful to go home when five o’clock finally came. Everything on her desk had been dealt with. She was going to eat supper and go to bed early tonight.

The truth was, neither she nor Speed were interested in cooking all that often. Tonight, they ordered in pizza. Pizzas might not be super healthy, but they weren’t super unhealthy either. And they tasted good.

While they ate, she told Speed what Hunter had found out.

“There’s only one bar I know of on Brooklyn,” Speed said. “Want to check it out?”

“Only if I get rid of this headache.”

He went to the fridge and got her a bottle of Gatorade and laid two aspirin beside it. Why not? She drank them down and felt a little better. An hour later, they drove to the bar.

Merit must have had a thing for blondes. The bartender had teased platinum hair, black eyeliner, and lots of curves. Her name tag read Jessica. Speed and Noira took two stools, and he ordered a beer and she ordered pinot grigio.

When Jessica had a break between customers, Speed said, “I was hoping to bump into Merit Lamrose in here. I heard he stopped in to see you from time to time.”

She stopped polishing a glass to stare at him. “Haven’t you heard? He’s dead. Someone shot him last weekend.”

“Shot him?” Speed looked surprised. “Why would anyone do that?”

“That uppity girlfriend of his, the designer, has been trying to win him back ever since she found out we were engaged.” She held up her hand to show a chunk of diamond on her finger. “But that girl wouldn’t know how to have fun if it bit her on the fanny.”

Speed took a sip of his beer. “When were you going to get married?”

“At the end of next month. Nothing fancy. Just one heck of a party. I already have my sequined dress in the closet. Neon blue to show off my eyes.”

“That’s rough. I’m sorry for your loss.” Speed finished his beer.

Jessica’s expression turned hard. “So am I.” A customer motioned for her at a nearby table. She nodded and headed to him.

Speed tossed a twenty dollar bill on the bar, and he and Noira left.

“Your thoughts?” he asked on the drive home.

“We just narrowed it down to two suspects. One of those women is lying.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “But which one is it?”