by CeeCee James
Just in the nick of time. The door swung open. I stared owl-eyed at the man in the suit.
“What are you doing in there?” he asked.
“Oh, I thought this was where the trash was kept.” I brushed past him, not eager to remain trapped in the closet. “How silly. It must be over there.” I walked to the other side.
He followed after me and grabbed my arm. “I said, what were you really doing in there?”
“Let go of me!” I snapped, jerking my arm away.
“What’s going on in here?”
The two of us glanced over at the entrance. Lo and behold, it was Officer Carlson. All nearly seven feet of him. His bald head never looked so good.
The man’s hand immediately dropped off of me. “I was going to see if she wanted me to take out the trash.”
Officer Carlson glanced at me for confirmation. I nodded and passed over the bag. “Sure,” I said, probably sounding as wooden as I felt.
The man stared at the bag and then back at me. He gave me a tight smile and then grabbed the bag. A moment later, he marched out the back door.
Officer Carlson watched him go. “How about it, Hollywood? What was it really?”
I was so relieved to see him, I didn’t even care about the tease. I was, however, puzzled if I should yank out the paper in front of him without knowing what was on it myself.
“Well?” he prompted, his eyebrow lifting. His dark eyes shone as he considered me.
I glanced at the back door where I could see the trash container. The man in the suit was nowhere in sight. Slowly, I pulled out the note, wet with garbage juices.
“I was after this,” I said, handing it over.
He eyed it a moment before gingerly taking it from me with two fingers. His muscles flexed as he smoothed it out on the counter. He and I practically bumped heads leaning down to read it.
“Easy, now,” he said.
Don’t forget. You’re in this as deep as I am.
“Wow,” he said, his eyes locking onto me with curiosity. “What made you go dig this out?”
“I saw that guy who just grabbed my arm read it and then ball it up. You know, the one that followed me in here.”
“Yeah, but what cued you in to watch him in the first place?”
“He was talking with Jasmine. It was an odd conversation, ending with both of them upset.”
He read the note again and pursed his lips. “Well, congrats, Hollywood. You definitely stumbled onto something interesting here.”
“You think so?” My spirits lifted. I’d been disappointed that it had said so little.
“Yeah, I do.”
“You going to let me know what you think it means?” I asked.
He touched the side of his nose and then shot his finger towards me. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. You have yourself a good night, now. Stay out of trouble, you hear?” With that, he sauntered out the back door, possibly to look for the man.
I stood there watching my one clue walk away in the pocket of the most arrogant, irritating man known on the planet. I balled my hands in fists. The stickiness reminded me that they needed to be washed a.s.a.p. I walked to the sink and flipped on the water, as dark thoughts came within a breath of being muttered about how I’d show Carlson that I didn’t need him to tell me why the paper was so important. Because I needed some respect!
Immediately, the song filled my head, and I felt the dance moves electrify me. I mentally sang the words, shaking my hips. Shake it to the left! Shake it to the right… Shake it…. My eyes caught my reflection in the microwave window. I looked like an idiot, and what was worse, someone was watching me.
I spun around.
It was Robbie from the gym, standing in the doorway with a goofy grin on his face. “Stella.” He nodded, sounding pleased.
“Robbie!” I was more shocked than embarrassed. Then heat filled my cheeks. I wanted to cringe, until I remembered how I’d always tried to be self-controlled. To portray that savvy business woman that my dad wanted so much for me to be. I wasn’t what he expected. Heck, half the time, I wasn’t what I expected. I was me, and I would learn to embrace that; the good, the bad, and the… weird. This was me, world, take it or leave it. I grinned at Robbie and did another little shimmy and then shrugged. “The music called me.”
“Can’t deny the music,” he agreed. His eyes lit up and he wiggled his hips back.
I giggled, until the reason why we were both here clicked in my head. Ian. “I’m surprised to see you here. Did you know Ian well?”
His smile dropped from his face, replaced by sadness. “Yeah. I used to train him actually. He was a good guy. Died much too young.”
“I’m so sorry. I knew him as a client, but he was my uncle’s good friend.”
“Your uncle did a good job up there on the microphone.” He smiled at me, quite an endearing one. And I couldn’t help but notice how well his suit fit.
“Yeah, I was proud of him,” I said, reminding myself not to stare at the way the jacket stretched across his shoulders and his forearms.
“I wanted to tell a story myself, but I guess I’m too much of a chicken.” He rubbed his neck and glanced down.
I wanted to immediately wipe that shame-face off of him. “What was it?” I asked. “You can tell me.”
“Well,” he said, stepping closer. “Ian was really interested in nutrition as well as fitness. It was a good thing, because up until he met me, he thought eating an occasional fast-food salad meant he was eating healthy.”
I frowned as that hit a little too close to home.
“Anyway, I got him all set up with vitamins and some protein powder. He was especially interested in supplements and essential oils, so I started teaching him about that, as well. We went to the Heritage Dispensary and got him all set up with a basic kit, you know things to help fight viruses, calming oils, things to help you sleep. He was fascinated with that stuff. Well, I get a phone call that night and he’s freaking out. ‘What’s the matter, Ian?’ I asked. He said he thought he may have been coming down with the flu and decided to use the germ fighting oil. Turns out he forgot to use the carrier oil and applied the germ fighting oil straight to his skin.” Robbie could barely continue as laughter shot out of him.
I stared at him blankly, waiting for the punchline.
“He wiped it in his armpits! Concentrated oil, not diluted. He said that he ran around like a human goal post with his arms in the air for who knows how long. He could barely put an arm down to make the phone call to me!”
“Oh, it burns, huh?”
“Burns like a mother.” Robbie grinned.
“So, what did you do?”
“Aww, I had him wipe it with carrier oil first, and then some soap and water. You have to be careful with that stuff. That was Ian’s first lesson. One he never forgot.” He shook his head as the smile slowly slipped off his face. “Poor guy.”
Poor guy is right. This burning skin story was hitting too close to how Ian had actually died.
But what toxic thing had he gotten into that none of us had? He’d only gone to the kitchen for antacids, and then to the bathroom. Jasmine had even talked to him and he said he was fine. Just washing up.
Was it on the soap? That didn’t make sense. I’m sure many people used the bathroom through the course of the party.
“You okay?” Robbie asked.
“What? Uh—yeah. I feel so awful for Ian.”
“And his wife,” Robbie tacked on.
“Yeah, her as well.” It didn’t come out with much conviction. She had been the last one to see him. And the police did say she stood to inherit a huge insurance policy. As much as I’d been reluctant to accuse the petite blonde, she was coming out as my number one suspect. Still, I couldn’t forget Celeste’s adamant comment when she said that Jasmine had always been soft and shy, and prone to bullying.
That didn’t sound like the makings of a killer to me.
Unless she’d been bullied too far.
Chapter 20
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br /> Robbie and I chatted some more until I put the kibosh on it. He’d started hinting with questions about a possible date, first asking me what I was doing next weekend, and then asking me if I liked ice-skating.
I knew one thing right off the bat. Robbie was cute, and I might entertain a date with him sometime, but there was no way I was getting asked at a memorial. Heck no. It can’t bode well for a future relationship if it starts over a plate of funeral coleslaw and crockpot meatballs.
So, I gently interrupted him by pulling out my phone and acting surprised that my dad had texted. With a quick promise to see him soon at the gym, I headed out.
I waved at the door, and he cheerfully waved back. Relief filled me, both at having avoided the close call, and that I’d managed to not hurt his feelings. He seemed satisfied with the promise that we’d talk another time.
The memorial was winding down, with clumps of what seemed to be close friends and family members left. I saw Uncle Chris standing in the same group with Jasmine, both smiling and seeming relaxed.
He caught my eye and lifted his hand. Feeling like I could make my escape, I waved back and then headed out.
As I drove home, I thought about what I’d like to do next. I really wanted to track down the Valentine’s gardener. The women’s conversation, with all the gossipy bits about Ian and Jasmine, hadn’t left my mind. Maybe he could shed some more insight on the Stuber couple. I couldn’t help a little smart-aleck grin, imagining calling Officer Carlson and being the one to give him the scoop.
But instead of doing something as productive as that, there was another thing I was committed to. Something dark, devious, and horrible. Something I’d love to get out of but I’d never live it down.
Kari’s dinner party. Also known as the ‘blind date.’
Kari had left me at the memorial with an ambiguous “See you tonight.” She was gone before I could respond. I drove home, feeling slightly claustrophobic, as if the mouth of a trap were closing over me.
When I got to my house, I saw that the local hardware store’s truck was in my driveway. My flooring had arrived. I needed to call Mrs. Crawford, my landlord about it.
She had made a deal with me that I wouldn’t have to pay rent if I didn’t mind fixing up the place. It was the most amazing deal ever, and I didn’t want to screw it up. It had been slow going, but so far I’d stripped off mountains of wallpaper, patched walls, and painted. There was a cute spot by the stairwell that I framed, that had a poem scrawled in childish handwriting. Mrs. Crawford had done it when she lived here, all those years ago.
So when I saw the original flooring peeling, I’d asked Mrs. Crawford if I could fix it and she okayed the suggestion right away. In fact, she’d asked me for the measurements, which surprised me, because I thought for sure she’d want me to pay for it. And now, here it was being delivered.
It’s one thing to say you thought you could lay flooring; it was a completely different story when you saw delivery men bring in box after box—twenty total—and stack them overflowing in the foyer.
The last one was brought in and laid on the heap with a grunt. I thanked the delivery guys and shut the door to stare, wild-eyed at the pile. What have I done to myself this time?
I counted the boxes and quickly checked that there was no damage that I could see, and then rang up Mrs. Crawford.
“Hello, dear,” she answered. Her voice was threaded with grace, mirroring the elegant woman that she was.
“Hi, Mrs. Crawford! I just wanted to let you know that the flooring’s arrived. I have it stacked in the foyer, and it’s all safe and sound.”
“Already? They’re early. They said they’d be there tomorrow.”
“I was a little surprised to see the delivery truck myself. Luckily, I got home in the nick of time.”
“Well, that’s wonderful. Now, I have faith in you, but tell the truth. Do you think you can handle it?”
The internet… how did people in the past live without it? I’d already spent a few evenings watching flooring videos, and even went to the hardware store and purchased the necessary tools. “I assume there’s a bit of a learning curve but I’m up for it. They say it’s not too hard.”
“That’s wonderful. Are you starting on it tonight?”
How I wished I could answer yes. “No, I actually have something else planned for tonight. Maybe this weekend.”
“That sounds perfect. Now, why so glum, dear? Oh, that’s right, is it the funeral?”
I felt more like I was about to go to a funeral, than returning from one. “No. It’s Kari and her husband. They invited me to dinner.”
There was a pause. Then, “I’m not quite understanding….” She let the last word dangle with a slightly questioning tone so that I would be forced to fill in the blank. She had skills that way.
“They invited another person. A man.”
“I see.” And I knew she did see, because she had done the same thing to me not too long ago. “So you aren’t seeing David any longer?”
I cringed. David was the man she’d recently introduced me to at a dinner at her house. He’d been very nice, and we had good conversation, but I’d never heard back. No telling who ghosted who in that situation. “No, we haven’t had a chance to connect.”
“That’s too bad. I thought you both hit it off quite well.”
People who set other people up always thought that.
“Life has been crazy busy. Probably for him as well. Anyway, now I have this new guy to meet.”
“Well, it’s not going to do any good with that kind of attitude.”
I sighed. “I just want to stay home.”
“No one’s asking you to marry him, Stella. Put your big girl britches on and go out and meet people. Have fun. After all, it often takes a lot of meetings to find the one you click with. My goodness, you’d never believe how many beaus I had before Mr. Crawford. But when I met him, I just knew. Sometimes you have to go through a lot of ‘no’s’ to find out exactly what makes a person a ‘yes.’”
“I get it. I just feel like I’m too busy right now to get into a relationship. I have my job I’m trying to figure out. These house projects….”
She laughed. “Stella, if you wait until you have all your ducks in the row, you’ll still be waiting while your life passes you by. You’ve got to be okay to not have everything perfect before you take a chance.”
She always had a way of putting things into perspective. We chatted some more about flooring aspects, and then I hung up to go get changed.
Ready or not, socialization was about to commence.
I arrived at Kari’s house, where she answered the door beaming with excitement.
“Stella! You look amazing!”
I was a little disheartened by how shocked she sounded. She grabbed my arm and practically dragged me in.
I saw Joe standing a few feet away with another man.
Kari presented him like a proud parent. “So, Stella, this is Thomas.”
I looked down at him at over five inches. Shorter isn’t necessarily bad, but it is when you’re wearing your stilettos because your friend forgot to give you a heads up.
“Hi,” I smiled, holding out my hand.
He was cute in an average-looking way. Brown hair cut short. Glasses. “Hi, Stella! You’re a tall one, aren’t you?”
“It’s these shoes,” I pointed, as if it weren’t obvious.
“Come on, let’s go sit.” Like an energetic teenager, Kari directed us to the couch. I awkwardly sat, my skirt rising.
“Ohh, you’re wearing that skirt! I love it!” Kari said.
I shot daggers at her and smiled through clenched teeth. She was wearing jeans and a comfy blouse. “Thank you.”
Thomas checked me out a little. “Yeah, I’d say on a scale from one to ten, you’re a nine.”
I felt a little rebuffed. “Thank you?”
He grinned and leaned back on the couch. “And I’m the one you lack.”
The first
‘Nope’ of the night resounded like a gong.
Kari caught the expression on my face. “All right, Thomas, leave your jokes for later.” She brought us over a glass of wine. A pendant hung out of her shirt, swinging as she leaned over.
It caught my attention immediately. “Kari, what is that?”
“Oh, this?” She slid a thumb under the chain and brought the pendant closer. “Isn’t it cute?”
It looked like a little filigree tube. “It’s adorable. What is it?”
“It’s my aromatherapy vial. This one is for creativity. I needed all I could get when the oven broke.”
“The oven’s broken?”
“Yes! And it was a two for one, since Joe forgot to fill the propane tank. So no steak tonight. Instead, we’re having tacos!”
I didn’t care about that, so caught up in the vial. “That’s great. So how does it work?”
“See,” She unscrewed the lid and showed a tiny stopper. “I just put a little dab on. Smell it.” She thrust it under my nose, forcing me to smell it whether I wanted to or not. I took a sniff. It was pleasant. But I didn’t care about the smell, I was so interested in the top.
“Kari! That top is similar to what I found in the bathroom. That piece of jewelry, remember?”
Her mouth dropped into an O. “I can’t imagine Jasmine would own anything like this I mean, it’s not cheap, but it’s no designer piece.”
“I don’t know. She seemed like she was into oils.”
Kari shrugged. “Like I said, it doesn’t seem quite her style. Or Celeste’s either. Maybe it belonged to one of the caterers.”
“Maybe.” I wrinkled my nose, thinking. “By the way, what did you think of your last conversation with Celeste?”
“She seemed uncomfortable, didn’t she? Of course, small town Brookfield is hardly her stomping grounds. Not quite yachty enough.” She raised her eyebrow and gave me a look.
“I remember you said that. Jasmine seems like the exact opposite.”
“Yes, quite the homebody, I think. She didn’t want to move, you know. Actually, she suggested that they keep two houses, and have Ian move to the city alone.”