Secrets and Stilettos (Murder In Style Book 1)

by Gina LaManna

  Cooper gave a thin smile that seemed to irk Matt.

  “I worked Lana’s bachelorette party with May last night,” I said to ease the smirk off Cooper’s face. “Then I came home, and I went to bed. This morning, I woke up and decided to head over to Matt’s to return his pan.”

  “Your pan,” Matt said. “It’s not my pan.”

  “I’m confused,” Cooper said. “Whose pan were you returning?”

  “It was really just an excuse to see me,” Matt said with a proud grin. “Right, Jenna?”

  “Not really,” I said, annoyed he was lording my neighborly visit over Cooper. “Remember? I wanted your coffee.”

  Cooper snorted at that.

  “Don’t look so happy,” I told him. “Matt’s a great neighbor. I wouldn’t have tried to mooch coffee from you, Chief.”

  Instead of boosting Matt up, my comments seemed to knock him down a few pegs. I couldn’t understand why. Being a good neighbor was something to be proud of, but for some reason, even Cooper looked pleased with the development.

  “Would you like to come take a look around your place with me?” Cooper asked. “I’d like to be there while you glance over your possessions to see if anything’s missing.”

  “Fine, sure,” I said. “Though most of my clothes and prized possessions aren’t around, anyway, so I can’t imagine what this person might have stolen.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Matt said. With a pointed glance at Cooper he added, “for protection.”

  “I’ll be with her,” Cooper said dryly. “I think she’ll be fine. I already spooked the intruder.”

  “It would be best if she had someone with her—”

  “Hello!” I waved a hand between them. “How about I get a say in my own life?”

  Both men swiveled their gazes toward me as if they’d entirely forgotten I was there.

  “Um, of course,” Matt said. “What would you prefer?”

  “I’m going to go with the chief—just the two of us—and we’ll do a walkthrough of the house. Like he said, whoever broke in was scared off. I doubt they’ll be back.”

  “But—” Matt frowned as I cut him off.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Matt, and I appreciate your offer to come with. If I feel at all unsafe, I’ll give you a call.”

  “If you’re unsafe,” Cooper said, “you should call the police.”

  “I’m her neighbor,” Matt said. “I can arrive more quickly.”

  “You were a little too busy to notice the intruder in her house this morning,” Cooper said. “So, as I said—”

  “Ugh!” I shoved my feet in my boots, pushed past both men, and stomped through the snow toward home. They could have their macho talk all morning long if they wanted, but I was going to do something about whoever had broken into my home—flannel pantsuit and all.

  Behind me erupted a staccato exchange of unpleasantries as Matt and Cooper finished their argument. I was back at the front door to my house by the time I heard footsteps behind me.

  “Wait up, will you?” Cooper called. “Someone just broke into your house.”

  “Yeah, and like you said—you scared them away.” I glanced back at him. “Which means they’re not here anymore. I want to find out what they were after. Also, I don’t want any part of whatever’s happening between you and my neighbor.”

  “Are the two of you dating?”

  “Is this part of the investigation, or is this just small town nosy?”

  He didn’t let my sass flummox him. “I thought we had a date tonight.”

  “A date? Oh, no,” I retorted. “You sort of asked if I maybe wanted to show up at bingo. You didn’t even ask if I wanted to sit next to you. And it’s all because my mother called you and suggested it. I wouldn’t call that romance central.”

  “I told you because of the investigation—”

  “I’m not dating anyone right now,” I said, waving my arms to signify the argument null and void. “At all. Not you, not Matt, not anyone else. I’m off the market.”

  “Are you otherwise taken?”

  “Yes, by myself,” I said, putting a hand on my hip as a frigid wind blew over my face. “Now can we please get this part over with?”

  Without waiting for an answer, I turned the key in the lock and pushed through the front door. I ignored the feel of the cop’s eyes on the back of my head as I stepped into my house and felt a huge draft of cold. I shivered, in part due to the temperature, and in part because an unwelcome visitor had been in my things.

  “Do you think it was the same person who murdered Grant?” I kicked my boots onto the rug, then picked them up as I headed straight for the rear entrance. It was still chilly inside, but I was feeling claustrophobic and confined. “Do you think a murderer was in my home?”

  “Jenna, listen—things are going to be okay.” The chief’s voice took on a soothing quality, lulling me into a temporary calm as he followed me through the kitchen. “I will have an officer drive by every few hours—whether it be myself or someone else—until this case is closed.”

  “You have more than one officer in a town this size?”

  “Three,” he said with a dry smile. “And help when needed from Butternut Bay. We have a few volunteers who assist, too. The city’s small and our budget can’t afford much more than that.”

  “Not to mention, you probably don’t have murders happening around here left and right.”

  “Correct,” he said with a thin smile. “The most exciting call I had last week was a burnt-out Christmas bulb in one of the parks.”

  “I hope you brought your gun with to that one. It sounds thrilling.”

  We shared a quiet smile which broke the tension. So long as he was by my side, it felt like nothing bad would happen in my house. I was preemptively dreading the moment he took his leave. I shivered just thinking about the emptiness combined with the knowledge that someone else had been in my private space—uninvited.

  “Are you cold?” he asked as we came to stop near the back entrance to my house. “We can look at the outdoor tracks later and start with the inside if you’d prefer.”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  Cooper explained in patient detail how the intruder had forced the back lock open and gotten into the house. He pointed out the trail of footprints that led beyond my backyard and into a thin layer of forest. On the other side of the tree-filled plot was a street.

  “I spooked the person who was here by knocking,” Cooper said, looking frustrated. “I should’ve just gone around back to look, but in case you had the door open for a reason, I didn’t want to pry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “If you hadn’t noticed the door open in the first place, who knows what would have happened. Do you think they were planning to wait for me?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “By the time I came around back, I heard a car starting up on the other side of the woods. I assume the intruder came from there, trekked through the snow, and into the house.”

  “What about footprints?”

  “They’re messy,” the chief said. “There’s a lot of wind and drifts going around today, and the snow is still coming down.”

  “Can’t you take a cast of them or something?” I gestured toward the trail of rapidly disappearing snow-footprints. “I worked as a stylist for NCIS for a few seasons, and—”

  “This is Blueberry Lake, not Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, or even the Twin Cities,” the chief explained. “I’m afraid we don’t have the same resources as the bigger departments. Not to mention, it was snowing outside, and the prints are already compromised. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do the best I can to figure out who was inside. Shall we see if anything was disturbed?”

  Cooper expertly navigated the investigative waters, keeping me calm and in check as we closed and locked the back door behind us.

  “You’ll want to get that lock replaced,” he said. “If you need help, I can pop by this afternoon and do i
t for you.”

  “You’d do that?” I asked. “Sure—I mean, I could ask my mother or Sid, but if you’re not too busy, I would appreciate that. I’ll pay you.”

  “It’ll take me ten minutes, and I’ll do it on my rounds,” he said with a quick wink. “Police work at its finest—changing locks is more interesting than switching light bulbs.”

  I came to a halt as I faced the interior of my house. “You know what’s weird?” I glanced down and found a small pool of water on the floor near the back door. “The intruder must have taken their shoes off. This little puddle here, it’s from shoes. There’s no water over the rest of the house. Which means the intruder was probably a woman.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Manners,” I said simply. “They didn’t want to get my floor dirty.”

  Cooper laughed. “You don’t think men have manners?”

  “Not if they’re trying to murder me!” I said. “Not that I think anyone was trying to kill me, but you never know.”

  Cooper sobered quickly. “Can you think of anyone who might have had a reason to attempt a break-in this morning?”

  My memories flashed back to the previous evening and Becky’s odd behavior. Her name was on my lips, but I held back. It was one thing to have a tiff with a woman who’d tripped me, and another to accuse her of breaking into my house or murdering a man in cold blood.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “You were going to say something.” Cooper was more perceptive than I’d given him credit for. “Someone is on your mind. Why are you protecting them?”

  “I’m not protecting anyone! I’m just—I’m not sure.”

  “It’s my job to be sure, not yours.” Cooper frowned. “It’s your job to give me all the information you have. I hunt down evidence.”

  “Look—I don’t know if you believe me or not, but I didn’t murder Grant Mark. Yet I was accused of doing so, and it was really upsetting,” I said. “I’m not going to turn around and accuse someone of something they might not have done because it sucks. I know from experience.”

  Cooper sized me up. “I think we should finish the walkthrough of the house, and then you can decide.”

  I gave him a thin smile. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

  From the back door we moved into the kitchen, past the front door, then came around to the living room. Nothing looked remotely out of place.

  “I guess that means we head upstairs?” I looked to Cooper for confirmation.

  When he nodded, I started toward the spiral wooden staircase—full of delicious creaks and pitiful moans—and stopped three stairs up. I halted so abruptly the chief ran smack dab into my back, apologizing profusely. I was too distracted to notice because my attentions were elsewhere. Namely, on the shoe someone had left on my floor.

  “I think I know what they wanted,” I said, easing to the side to give Cooper a clear view of the powder-blue, chunky vintage heel. “They got one step closer to framing me for murder.”

  Cooper leaned forward and squinted. “This shoe can’t be the murder weapon as we have that bagged as evidence, but yes, if we found the other shoe in your home, it would point in your direction...”

  “Cinderella,” I said with a sigh. “What a tragic retelling.”

  Cooper gave me a funny look. “You’re certain this wasn’t in your house before?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to revisit the idea of me being a murderer.”

  “My job is not to—”

  “—assume, I know,” I said. “But the answer to this question is obvious. No, that is not my shoe. Yes, I’ve seen it before and tried it on. My fingerprints might still be on it, but I doubt it. I bet whoever left it here wiped the whole thing clean so their fingerprints would disappear, as well.”

  “It’s possible—”

  “—possible I left it on my own step and staged the break-in?” I gave him a deadly stare. “Sure. I have an alibi for the time of break-in, for starters.”

  “Obviously. You spent the morning with Matt.”

  I ignored his jab. “I know about four people in this town. I’m sure you can verify the whereabouts of May, my mother, and Sid. None of them were in on this. I have no accomplice. I’m not even a criminal! Except for that one time I forgot to pay for the nail clippers from my manicurist, but I think the statute of limitations has run out on that.”

  “What about your mom’s front desk clerk? Might she have done it?”

  “Allie?” I shook my head. “No, this wasn’t her either. I’d practically swear it. She doesn’t seem like the murdering type. And neither am I.”

  “Jenna, listen.” Cooper took a step back, retreating down the staircase. “I don’t believe you put it there. I don’t think you murdered Grant. Are you satisfied?”

  I felt the prickle of something similar to satisfaction crawl down my spine. “Do you mean that?”

  “I mean it,” he said. “However, I still have to do my job and ask all of the right questions. And if evidence turns up that points toward you, I’m still going to investigate it.”

  “That’s fair. I wouldn’t ask you to not do your job, I was just hoping...” I hesitated. “I don’t know why, but I was just hoping you would believe me. I know we’re strangers and all, so it’s fine if you don’t, but I didn’t do this. I am trying everything I can think of to convince you of that.”

  “I believe you,” he assured me. “Now let me gather up the shoe. I’m going to take it down to the station and add it into evidence. I’ll be back in a bit to replace that lock. If you need anything at all, call the station—they’ll reroute to me. I’d give you my cell, but I’d prefer to ask for your number when I’m off the clock.”

  I found myself smiling oddly at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Cooper. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

  He gave a nod and set to work on his police duties. He searched the rest of the house, took a few photos, and completed whatever technical things he needed to do. By the time he finished, I felt better about everything. Ironic, since I was technically as unsafe as I’d ever been. Someone had broken into my house to frame me for murder. It was a Hollywood script waiting to happen.

  “Hey, chief,” I called after Cooper as he headed toward his cruiser. “So, are we on for bingo tonight?”

  “I thought it wasn’t a date,” he called back with an easy smile. “I only asked you because it seemed like you could use a friend.”

  I laughed as he climbed into his cruiser, grinning as he waved goodbye.

  As I closed and locked the door, I realized the house did, indeed, feel a bit emptier without him. And no matter how much I fought it, I couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of excitement for tonight. I really needed to get a hold of myself.

  I had time to kill between now and my lock change, so I hopped upstairs and took a quick shower, a little embarrassed I’d been in my pajamas during all that had transpired over the course of the morning. Pre-coffee, it hadn’t registered with how truly silly I looked. Post coffee, I was properly mortified.

  The snow had stopped by the time I got out of the shower, so I picked a long-sleeved sweater dress and slid into it. The thickly knitted pattern was pretty and warm, and I prided myself on being functional as well as stylish. May’s thick boots matched the ensemble and managed to look somewhat less-than-ugly.

  I stepped outside and found my mother’s truck waiting for me in the driveway. She’d said I could use it as much as I needed for the first few weeks until I got on my feet and bought my own car. She and Sid could get by in their four-wheel-drive second vehicle. I hopped in, aimed the nose toward June’s, and hit the gas pedal.

  I hadn’t mentioned Becky’s name to Cooper, though he’d pressed once more before leaving. I had one more round of investigating to do myself before I dragged her name through mud. At the moment, I didn’t have a strong case against her—a few weird looks and a pote
ntial tripping did not a murderer make. My best piece of evidence was the photo she’d taken of me with Grant, but I hadn’t exactly come about the photo in a way I wanted to make public

  I hadn’t entirely figured out how I’d begin compiling evidence on Becky, but one thing was certain.

  Coffee, first.

  Then murder.

  Chapter 13

  “That latte machine is on back order,” June said when I got in line. “You’re going to have to settle for a black coffee again.”

  “You’re doing this on purpose,” I chided the old woman. “All you need is something to make froth with! You can pick a frother up for twenty bucks at Target.”

  “Getting to a Target in this weather is like hiking the Sahara,” June said. “The roads are slippery, there’s none within a forty-mile radius, and the—”

  “Excuses,” I said with a laugh. “I recognize this for a pile of excuses. You just don’t want me to be right. You didn’t even order that machine, did you?!”

  June broke into a broad grin. “Is the black coffee growing on you?”

  I grudgingly shook my head. “It’s really good. It does warm the soul.”

  “Go on and sit down,” June said. “I’m bringing you my specialty this morning.”

  “Oh, I was hoping to grab a quick coffee to go—I have some things to take care of, and—”

  “It’s the Lord’s day!” June said. “Take a seat on that there window seat and eat some breakfast with your coffee. There’s no place you have to be so urgently on a Sunday morning, I promise you.”

  She was right, oddly enough, so I took a seat near the window without further argument. I had no particular place to rush off to in search of evidence against Becky, and I didn’t really want to sit in Gran’s big old house by myself.

  May would be cuddling Joe and their little butterbean baby on this snowy winter morning, and my mom and Sid would be doing something similar—something I didn’t want to spend another moment thinking about. With a sigh, I realized that I was a true loner. I had nobody to snuggle on a Sunday morning except for the latest copy of Vogue.