Clobbered by Camembert by Avery Aames Page B

said. “I hear they’re going to do it.”
    “Wahoo.” Delilah whistled under her breath.
    I groaned. How many people had Rebecca confided in? “Not it, it,” I said. “They’re going to kiss .”
    That earned laughter and a round of “Uh-huh, right,” from Meredith, Delilah, and Jacky.
    “Ladies, please, no talking, or I’ll have to ask you to leave,” the instructor said. “This is a relaxing environment.”
    “I’m not talking,” Freckles said. “I’m laughing.”
    “No laughing, as well.”
    Delilah flat-out guffawed. I couldn’t hold in my chuckles any longer, either.
    The five of us scrambled to our feet, gathered our things from the rear of the room, and hustled into the foyer of the yoga studio. Our laughter chorused above the burbling water fountain. Lyrical music, designed to make those who entered the hallowed studio calm, filtered through speakers, but we simply couldn’t be serene.
    “I’m so sorry,” Freckles said, still chuckling.
    “I’m not.” Meredith patted Freckles on the back. “None of us were reaping the benefit of the class for some reason.”
    “My twelve-year-old told me there’s hyper-electricity in the air. Winter brings it on.” Freckles was always packed with trivial information. She and her husband homeschooled their daughter. “Frenchie and hubby are doing a physics experiment on the topic this very minute with our other munchkin watching from the stroller.”
    “I wasn’t talking about physics,” Delilah said. “I was talking about chemistry.” She turned to Jacky. “C’mon, give. What’s up with you and Urso?”
    At least they had backed off discussing Rebecca and Ipo’s situation.
    “Nothing.” Jacky tucked her yoga mat under her arm. “I mean, things are fine. Everything’s fine.”
    As Delilah pleaded for more, Meredith tweaked my elbow and whispered, “By the way, I Googled the guy that Jordan said taught him to make cheese—Jeremy Montgomery.”
    Her presumption that I would want to know made me prickly—was I that easy to read? I glanced at Jacky to see if she was listening in. She wasn’t. She seemed intent on stalling Delilah’s interrogation. I said, “Go on.”
    “I’m worried,” Meredith said.
    “Why?”
    Meredith chewed on her lower lip then proceeded. “He died before Jordan was born.”
    My insides percolated with apprehension. Why would Jordan lie to me? “Are you sure?”
    Before she could respond, the front door of the yoga studio burst open.
    Bozz, my teenaged Internet guru, hurtled inside. Chest heaving for breath, he brushed longish bangs off his forehead and gasped. “Miss B! I just got a text.”
    Big deal. I would bet he received nearly two hundred texts a day.
    “It’s from Chief Urso!”
    My heart snagged in my chest. “What did it say?”
    “He … He”—Bozz bent over and sucked in air—“he couldn’t reach you.” He stabbed a finger in the direction of my purse. We were required to turn off all cell phones for the yoga class.
    “It’s about Rebecca.” Bozz offered me his phone.
    I snatched the phone from his palm, and as I read, my knees went weak.
    Kaitlyn Clydesdale was lying dead in Rebecca’s cottage.

CHAPTER

    While I hotfooted it to Rebecca’s, my boots spanking the wet pavement, selfish thoughts zipped through my mind. Whether I had liked Kaitlyn Clydesdale or not, I had been hoping to ply her for more information about my mother. I knew so little. My mother’s parents had died of natural causes soon after the crash. My mother had no sisters or brothers. The few friends she’d made had married and moved away. Kaitlyn claimed to have been one of those friends. I was hoping that, during the time she was in town, she would tell me more about my mother—her secrets, her passions, what had made her tick. During my childhood years, Grandmère had done her best to fill in the blanks, but a friend who had known my mother for years would have been so much better. With the link gone, I felt