right. Joe came back into the kitchen. “All clear. Feeling better, Ruby?”
“A little. Your wife is great.”
Joe moved behind Judith’s chair and put his hands on her shoulders. “I know that. She comes from great stock. Just like her mother.”
“Joe . . .” Judith made a face. “Don’t listen to him. He and my mother don’t get along.” She craned her neck to give Joe a dirty look.
He squeezed Judith’s shoulders, but ignored her reaction. “Can you describe your journal?”
Ruby frowned. “Nothing fancy. Dark green cover, drawing of trees and mountains with the word ‘Musings.’ ”
Joe shook his head. “I’m afraid we didn’t see it. Did you have anything else in the room with personal information?”
Ruby reflected briefly. “No. But my purse is missing. My ID and credit cards and my cell are in it.”
Joe nodded. “Right.”
Judith and Ruby waited for Joe to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead, he removed his hands from his wife’s shoulders and started down the back hall. “I’m going up to my office for a few minutes.”
Ruby frowned at Judith. “What does that mean?”
“He wants to think,” Judith said. “Did you tell anybody what you planned to do while you were in the city? About your mom, I mean.”
“No. It was none of their business. I told my boss at the restaurant that I wanted to get away for a few days. I had the time coming, so it wasn’t a big deal.”
It was Judith’s turn to mull. “Did you talk to anyone in the old neighborhood? Before you got to The Persian Cat, I mean?”
“I didn’t run into anybody I knew. I planned to check out a couple of old pals, but I never got around to it. Are you going to ask Mr. Flynn to call the restaurant?”
“Maybe I should do that,” Judith said, noting that the schoolhouse clock was ticking its way toward 9:20. “I don’t know how long Joe’s going to be upstairs. And please call us by our first names. You’re not a stranger.”
Ruby’s smile lighted up her tired face. “I doubt you’ve ever met a stranger.”
Judith smiled back, though a bit ruefully. “That’s what my first husband’s mother said about me. It was grudging—and about the only nice thing she ever did say to me.”
“She must’ve been a bitch,” Ruby remarked.
“She was a very unhappy woman.” Judith got up from the chair to pick up the phone. “What does your purse look like? I forget.”
“It’s faux brown leather with a big faux gold clasp and a couple of pockets on the outside. They’re not faux, they’re real, but I hardly ever use them.”
Judith nodded and dialed the restaurant. Unfortunately, she reached a recording, giving The Persian Cat’s hours and that reservations were necessary only for dinner. She could call back during business hours to make a reservation. “I wonder . . .” she murmured, trying an old trick of redialing the number but changing the last digit by one. A deep male voice answered on the second ring.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, “but my niece lost her purse today when she was at your restaurant. Did you find it by any chance?”
“No purse,” the accented voice answered. “She must’ve lost it ’nother place. Sorry.”
“Oh, dear,” Judith said in a woeful voice, quickly offering a concise description of Ruby. “I wonder if the man who approached her took it. Did you notice him with her? He acted rather oddly.”
“Then how did she pay?” the man responded. “She must’ve lost it after she was here.”
“Maybe the man paid her bill,” Judith said.
“He steals purse and pays for her meal? That’s craziness. We’re closed. I’m busy.” He hung up.
Judith sighed. “I should’ve let Joe call. That was a washout. I’m not at the top of my game tonight.”
Ruby shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. They were busy. Maybe he wouldn’t remember the guy who talked to me. I sure don’t.”
Judith heard the front door open. Judging from the voices, it
“A little. Your wife is great.”
Joe moved behind Judith’s chair and put his hands on her shoulders. “I know that. She comes from great stock. Just like her mother.”
“Joe . . .” Judith made a face. “Don’t listen to him. He and my mother don’t get along.” She craned her neck to give Joe a dirty look.
He squeezed Judith’s shoulders, but ignored her reaction. “Can you describe your journal?”
Ruby frowned. “Nothing fancy. Dark green cover, drawing of trees and mountains with the word ‘Musings.’ ”
Joe shook his head. “I’m afraid we didn’t see it. Did you have anything else in the room with personal information?”
Ruby reflected briefly. “No. But my purse is missing. My ID and credit cards and my cell are in it.”
Joe nodded. “Right.”
Judith and Ruby waited for Joe to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead, he removed his hands from his wife’s shoulders and started down the back hall. “I’m going up to my office for a few minutes.”
Ruby frowned at Judith. “What does that mean?”
“He wants to think,” Judith said. “Did you tell anybody what you planned to do while you were in the city? About your mom, I mean.”
“No. It was none of their business. I told my boss at the restaurant that I wanted to get away for a few days. I had the time coming, so it wasn’t a big deal.”
It was Judith’s turn to mull. “Did you talk to anyone in the old neighborhood? Before you got to The Persian Cat, I mean?”
“I didn’t run into anybody I knew. I planned to check out a couple of old pals, but I never got around to it. Are you going to ask Mr. Flynn to call the restaurant?”
“Maybe I should do that,” Judith said, noting that the schoolhouse clock was ticking its way toward 9:20. “I don’t know how long Joe’s going to be upstairs. And please call us by our first names. You’re not a stranger.”
Ruby’s smile lighted up her tired face. “I doubt you’ve ever met a stranger.”
Judith smiled back, though a bit ruefully. “That’s what my first husband’s mother said about me. It was grudging—and about the only nice thing she ever did say to me.”
“She must’ve been a bitch,” Ruby remarked.
“She was a very unhappy woman.” Judith got up from the chair to pick up the phone. “What does your purse look like? I forget.”
“It’s faux brown leather with a big faux gold clasp and a couple of pockets on the outside. They’re not faux, they’re real, but I hardly ever use them.”
Judith nodded and dialed the restaurant. Unfortunately, she reached a recording, giving The Persian Cat’s hours and that reservations were necessary only for dinner. She could call back during business hours to make a reservation. “I wonder . . .” she murmured, trying an old trick of redialing the number but changing the last digit by one. A deep male voice answered on the second ring.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, “but my niece lost her purse today when she was at your restaurant. Did you find it by any chance?”
“No purse,” the accented voice answered. “She must’ve lost it ’nother place. Sorry.”
“Oh, dear,” Judith said in a woeful voice, quickly offering a concise description of Ruby. “I wonder if the man who approached her took it. Did you notice him with her? He acted rather oddly.”
“Then how did she pay?” the man responded. “She must’ve lost it after she was here.”
“Maybe the man paid her bill,” Judith said.
“He steals purse and pays for her meal? That’s craziness. We’re closed. I’m busy.” He hung up.
Judith sighed. “I should’ve let Joe call. That was a washout. I’m not at the top of my game tonight.”
Ruby shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. They were busy. Maybe he wouldn’t remember the guy who talked to me. I sure don’t.”
Judith heard the front door open. Judging from the voices, it
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