“Did you already eat?” Henrietta asked, looking around my kitchen.
I showed her the napkin in my hand and my sad little half-sandwich. “Not exactly.”
“Oh, I love ham. Maybe an omelet?”
Since she plopped her giant tote bag on my table, pulled off her jacket and sat down, I was guessing she’d elected me to do the cooking.
I threw up my hands. “Sure. Why not? What do you like in your coffee?”
She wanted cream and sugar, so I made a fresh pot of coffee and brought everything to the table so she could fix her cup how she wanted it.
“Why are you here? I mean, besides wanting breakfast.” I pulled out eggs, butter, milk, cheese, ham, and scallions and started prepping. “Two eggs or three?”
“Oh, three would be wonderful! Do you have any bacon?”
I turned to give her a flat stare. “No. I’m fresh out. Maybe you’d rather go to a restaurant?”
“Oh, no, no, no. This will be lovely.” She unwrapped a bright red scarf from her neck and placed it on top of her coat on the chair next to her. Today, she wore jeans, running shoes, and a plain gray sweatshirt. Knowing my luck, my Dead End Pawn T-shirt was under the sweatshirt, and she’d be wearing only the T-shirt when she robbed a bank or two.
While I sliced scallions and ham, and beat eggs, the skillet warmed up. I tossed a couple of pats of butter in and then started the omelet, still wondering what I could say.
Henrietta broke the silence. “I thought we should talk, Tess.”
“Oh, you’re not just here for the eggs?” I heard the snark in my voice, but couldn’t help myself. This was not a situation covered in the Big Book of Southern Manners.
“Well, itisawfully nice of you to cook for me, especially after I pointed a gun at you. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”
“Thank you,” I said automatically.
“I’ve asked around about you, and you’ll be happy to know that your fellow Dead Enders think you’re an entirely honest person. Weird, with the seeing-how-people-will-die thing, but honest.”
“Great. That’s just lovely. Everybody likes to be called weird by their neighbors,” I muttered, flipping the omelet.
“To be fair—this coffee is great, thank you—only one person said weird. The others said honest and lovely and all nice things.”
“So, you just went around town interrogating people about me?” I slid the omelet onto a plate, placed it on the table in front of her, and then handed her a fork.
She laughed a big, booming laugh. “No, of course not. I’m a criminal, Tess. I can besubtle.”
I sighed, giving in to the inevitable, grabbed a mug and poured myself yet another cup of coffee. Then I sat down across from her.
“Okay, Henrietta. What do you want?”
She forked up a big bite of omelet and then chewed, a blissful expression on her face. After she swallowed, she put her fork down and leaned forward. “Tess. This is one of the best omelets I’ve ever eaten. The eggs are so fluffy!”
“Mixing them with milk is the secret. Again, what do you want?”
“I wanted to ask you to stay out of my way. I hear you’re sort of always around when trouble happens. You and that tiger boyfriend, but he’s out of town, right?”
“You hear a lot,” I said flatly, not answering her question about Jack.
“Oh, don’t get prickly.” She ate another bite of omelet. “I don’t have anything against you. I respect you, in fact. Young woman running a business on your own. But I need you to stay out of my way.”
“Out of your way while you do what?” I asked, as politely as I could manage, given the circumstances.
She put her fork down with some regret and steepled her fingers. “It’s like this, Tess. I spent years in prison plotting my revenge on Cordelia Back-Stabbing Phleabottom. I’m going to force her to give me not just my share of the loot, but her share, too. I won’t just defeat her, I’ll destroy her. I’ll takeallher money, and then I’ll taunt her about it for the rest of her miserable life.”
I slumped back in my chair. “You … you haven’t heard, then? I mean, I’m surprised, since you seem to know everything else going on in town.”
