Change of Life. Leigh Riker

jacket, topped by a filmy scarf in shades of rust, gold and a muted beige. Her handbag was Louis Vuitton, her shoes Ricardo Ricci. Her hair and makeup looked flawless again. It was like looking at a different person from yesterday, one who had her act together.

      Geneva said, “I think we can help each other with the design for my house after all. I may have been hasty about hiring Starr and I have another idea.”

      Nora’s heart began to thump. Say it. Choose me.

      With a slowness that made Nora’s pulse triple in anticipation, Geneva handed over her portfolio and then drew a pair of sketches from her own bag. She laid them on Nora’s desk. She glanced at Nora with an expectant expression.

      “Well? What do you think?”

      Nora studied her own design for the breakfast room, a cheerful study in clubby rattan chairs, a round glass table, and swatches of impressionistic color—deep blue, pink, and yellow—in the cushion fabric. Then she saw the other sketch.

      The home office design, which wasn’t hers, had a pleasing look, she had to admit, with a light pickled oak for the computer desk and cabinets, a rich hunter green for the carpet, paint for the walls in a soft, neutral taupe that lent a restful air. The chairs were scattered with sunny yellow throw pillows.

      “Very nice. But I don’t understand,” she began with a sense of dread.

      “You and Starr.” Geneva sounded as if the combination was obvious. “When I studied the sketches you brought yesterday, then looked again at Starr’s—” she indicated the pair of drawings “—I knew I wanted you both to do my house.”

      “You heard us, Geneva. We’re hardly friends.”

      “Nora, I can’t decide between you. I like some of your drawings, others of Starr’s. I haven’t talked to her yet, but when you both see which I’ve chosen for all of the rooms, you’ll see that they complement each other perfectly. I know I’m going to be very happy with the joint result.”

      “But—but—” Nora stammered. She couldn’t imagine anything worse. Except being a suspect in the burglary at Geneva’s home.

      Geneva beamed. “I can’t wait to get started. This has already given me a fresh lease on life.” She paused. “I’m sure Earl will love it, too.”

      Wow, Nora thought. Yesterday Geneva had been a full-blown basket case.

      “I really don’t think…” Nora tried, already seeing Starr’s face in her mind.

      “The customer is always right. Is there any reason why this can’t work?”

      The question sent Nora’s stomach into free fall toward her shoes.

      Only because we might kill each other.

      CHAPTER 5

       W as half a loaf really better than none?

      In a brief “discussion” with Daisy, Nora had convinced herself that it was. Considering the business she had already lost and the two possible clients who had more recently bailed out to use another design firm—word was definitely getting around town about the burglary—Nora’s answer had to be yes.

      It didn’t take long to realize that Geneva’s unorthodox suggestion had another benefit beyond the half share of the design fee Nora would earn, assuming she and Starr could actually work together.

      She could quell the local gossips who were beginning to have a field day with her misfortune, and finally demonstrate her innocence in the burglary.

      Her life had been spinning out of control long enough. It was up to her to resolve her problems. And as always, that meant seeing to her business and to her family.

      After Geneva had left her office, Nora decided on her first course of action. She picked up the phone to call Mark Fingerhut.

      “Nora. What can I do for you? Having more of those uncomfortable hot—”

      “My will is stronger than a few little hormones,” she said. “I feel fine.” As long as she didn’t come into contact with Detective Caine, Nora added silently. “I wanted to thank you for agreeing to see Geneva Whitehouse.”

      “No problem. We had an opening and she sounded quite upset.”

      “I’m sure you can deal with her concerns.”

      “If I can calm you,” he said, a smile in his voice, “she’ll be a piece of cake.”

      He sounded upbeat. Nora had never seen Mark in a sour mood, so maybe Savannah had just caught him in a bad moment. Still, she hesitated, not sure she should mention the other reason for her call. “I was also wondering if you might have room for another patient. My mother,” she added. Nora had been ruminating about Maggie since their last call. “I’ve been trying to persuade her to come to Destin. She’s had some problems with her health in the past and I’m worried about her.”

      “Sure. We’ll set up an appointment for her, too. Let me connect you with my receptionist.”

      “Well, not just yet. We’re only in the planning stage.” At least, Nora was. Laying the groundwork with Mark, she told him what she knew of Maggie’s heart condition and that her mother undoubtedly hadn’t taken care of herself in general, especially as a woman. “I hoped that if I approached this from a different direction and talked to you first, I might convince her to make the change. She definitely needs an exam.”

      “I’ll be glad to take a look at her.”

      “She can be difficult,” Nora felt obliged to warn him. At the other end of the line Mark laughed.

      “Why am I not surprised?”

      Maggie Scarborough was the lucky recipient of Nora’s next call. She listened to her daughter, then started to frown. All at once Virginia wasn’t nearly far enough away.

      “Nora, I know you were trying to be a good daughter,” Maggie lectured her in the stern tone she used whenever she felt hemmed in by Nora. “But I’d really rather you didn’t discuss my private affairs with a stranger.”

      “Mark Fingerhut is a practicing physician, not some Peeping Tom.”

      Maggie tightened her grip on the telephone receiver. “No man has seen me that way since your father died.”

      “Well, then this is your chance,” Nora told her.