A View to a Kill

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  She let his wisecrack slide. “Evie’s boyfriend. Roy Ferguson.”

  “We’ve questioned him twice. We also have him under twenty-four-hour surveillance.”

  “And?”

  “There’s no evidence to suggest he did it. Not enough to hold him, anyway.”

  “If he found out Roman and Evie were talking about getting back together, there’s your motive. He went to her house that night. What if it was to confront her and it went all wrong?”

  “Wait a minute. What night?”

  “The night Evie was murdered,” she said.

  “Who told you this?”

  “Mrs. Healy.”

  “What time?”

  “She didn’t say. She only said she recognized Roy’s headlights.”

  “I spoke to Mrs. Healy. She didn’t mention it.”

  “She seems to have a bit of a grudge against the police.”

  “I also spoke to Roy. He said the last time he saw Evie was the morning of her murder.”

  “Then he’s lying,” she said.

  “Or Mrs. Healy doesn’t know what she really saw.”

  “She was certain when she told me. I believe her. Maybe you need to talk to Roy again.”

  She waited for the lecture, the millionth warning about why she needed to stay out of it. What came was a surprise, an unexpected response.

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  CHAPTER 28

  More than a week had passed since Evie’s death, and to Quinn, it seemed like a lifetime. Days bleeding together, one by one, until she scarcely remembered what day it was anymore. The headstone Ruby chose for Evie was a gray-speckled, etched stone with rough edges. An oval in the center contained Evie’s picture, and below it the words: Though absent you are always near, still loved, still missed, and very dear. The rhyme Ruby selected was sweet, but sappy, nothing like what Evie would have chosen for herself. The simple words didn’t convey the sass and spirit that ruled Evie’s life. Sass like Quinn had once viewed on a tombstone that read: Here lies Eddie Yeast, pardon me for not rising.

  Now that was a tombstone with the appropriate dash of snark.

  She’d stood at Evie’s graveside for over a half hour and even managed to pay her respects without shedding any tears. She didn’t know whether to consider it progress, or a sign she was going numb, or both.

  The vibrant, wildflower bouquet she clutched in her hands had been cut that morning from what remained among the living in Evie’s garden. She knelt, placing the flowers in front of a few stacks of others that still remained from the day of the funeral. She pressed a hand to her chest, rolling her fingers over the chain of the necklace. “Thanks for the letter. I miss you. We all do.”

  A few minutes later, Quinn had almost reached her car when she heard the discernable sound of footsteps blazing a trail through a hillside of grass. She turned. The girl in the distance was dressed in a short mini-skirt, a puffy jacket, and UGG boots. She was tall and skinny—the kind of skinny that made her look like her bare legs were made of elongated toothpicks. Her hair was long and straight. More brown than blond. And she was young. Seventeen or eighteen. Young enough for Quinn to assume she was still in high school. The girl carried a plant in her hands: she knelt and placed it in front of Evie’s grave.

  “Hey,” Quinn yelled.

  The girl flattened a hand over her forehead, canvassed the landscape, her eyes coming to rest on Quinn, who, by that time, was almost standing in front of her.

  “Hi,” the girl said.

  “Beautiful plant.”

  The girl shrugged. “I guess so. Rowdy asked me to bring it.”

  Rowdy?

  “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

  “I’m a senior. I have work release.”

  “And you work for Evie?” Quinn asked.

  The girl nodded.

  “Do you like working there?”

  “I love it. It’s like art, you know? Working with plants, landscaping a yard, making it beautiful. Just being outside instead of cooped up behind a desk all day—it’s what I want to do with my life.”

  “Gardening?”

  She nodded, again.

  “I saw you at Evie’s funeral,” Quinn said. “What’s your name?”

  “Marissa.”

  “Marissa what?”

  “Lewis. What’s yours?”

  “Quinn.”

  “Evie mentioned you a couple times. You two were friends, right?”

  “We were,” Quinn said. “How long have you worked for her?”

  “About six months. Now that Evie’s gone, I might have to start looking for another job though.”

  “Why?”

  “I hear some random chick is taking over the place soon.” Marissa scrunched up her nose. “She doesn’t know a thing about landscaping. How’s that going to work?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the random chick is hoping Evie’s employees will teach her what she needs to know instead of bailing out on her before they give her a chance.”

  Marissa tilted her head to the side, smacked the gum she was chewing around in her mouth a few times. “Wait a minute, it isn’t ... I mean, you’re not that friend, right?”

  Quinn didn’t answer, she just stared, letting her expression do the work for her.

  “Wow.” Marissa kicked a few leaves around with her boot. “I feel like a huge ass now. Sorry.”

  “I get it,” Quinn said. “I’d be skeptical too. And I shouldn’t have waited so long to stop in. I’ve had a lot going on since I’ve been back, and I didn’t find out until yesterday that Evie planned on me taking over the place.”

  “It’s okay. We know.”

  “What do you mean you know?”

  Marissa patted Quinn on the shoulder. “Small town. Word gets around.”

  Quinn wondered what, and how much they knew. “I’d like to make things right. What’s the office phone number?”

  Marissa dipped her hand inside her shirt, pulled out a cell phone. She found the office number and showed the screen to Quinn. Quinn dialed. A woman answered, stating her name was Felicity. Quinn said, “I’d like to speak to the office secretary or manager.”

  “Speaking.”

  “This is Quinn Montgomery.”

  Felicity paused then said, “I was wonderin’ when we’d hear from you.”

  “I’d like client meetings set up with all of Evie’s current clients. I’d like to talk to them.”

  “Allrighty, I can get those scheduled. What day?”

  “Let’s say two days from now.”

  “I’ll get it done and get back to you with the times. Is that all?”

  “No,” Quinn said. “I’d like to call a staff meeting.”

  “Oh ... kay. What day and time?”

  “Today. Five o’clock. And the meeting is mandatory. I expect everyone to be there.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Ruby stood at her front door, her arms folded in front of her, legs spread, blocking Quinn from entering.

  “Are you going to let me in?” Quinn asked.

  “I don’t know. Are you going to keep treating me like I’m unfit and try to steal Jacob from me?”

  “I’d never steal Jacob, but you should know, the guardianship paperwork was filed this morning. Once the judge signs off, I will have custody.”

  “And then what? You’ll whisk him away and never let me see him again?”

  “Do you really think so little of me?”

  Ruby pushed the door open, curled a finger toward herself. “Get your smart ass in here. I’ll put some coffee on.”

  Quinn entered the house, looked around. “Where’s Jacob?”

  Ruby pointed. “Watching SpongeBob SquarePants in my room. You ever seen it?”

  “The cartoon? I haven’t.”

  “Watched a couple episodes this morning. You should give it a try sometime. Haven’t laughed that hard in ages. And heaven knows, we could all use some laughs right now.”

  “How is Jacob? Has he said
anything since last night?”

  “You mean, since your phone call at almost nine thirty and then again at the crack of dawn this morning? He hasn’t. Not much, anyway. A few words here and there. He’s fine, Quinn. He’s eating. He’s smiling again. He’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”

  “You know to call if he—”

  “Says anything else? You’ve reminded me a thousand times, dear.”

  “Mind if I look in on him?”

  Ruby shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Quinn walked down the hallway. Ruby’s door was ajar, and the television was on just like she said it would be. Quinn peered through the slit in the doorway. She didn’t see Jacob. She flipped on the light, her eyes darting around. “Ruby, I can’t find Jacob. He’s not in here.”

  If Ruby detected the panic in Quinn’s voice, she didn’t address it. “Not to worry. I’m sure he’s here somewhere.”

  Quinn checked one of the guest rooms. Empty. She speed-walked to the next, her throat pasty, skin perspiring. The floor in the second bedroom was littered with toys, but there was no sign of Jacob.

  Her mind raced, the same question looping over and over again: What if Evie’s murderer had a change of heart, deciding he needed to finish what he started—to stop Jacob before he decided to talk again?

  “Ruby, please! Help me find him!”

  A toilet flushed, the sloshing sound of water emanating through the open door in Ruby’s bedroom. In her haste, Quinn had neglected to notice the bathroom door attached to Ruby’s bedroom was closed. Jacob tiptoed out, made a fist with one hand, and rubbed his eye. “Hi, Winn.”

  She ran to him, lifting him up, pressing him against her chest.

  Ruby patted Quinn on the back. “Like I said, he’s here, and he’s fine. We have two officers parked outside. He’s not going anywhere.”

  Jacob ran a hand through her hair and said, “I want my mommy, Winn.”

  Quinn looked away, shielding Jacob from seeing the tear trailing down her cheek. “I know you do, sweetheart. I know.”

  She wiped her face, gave him another squeeze, and sat next to him on the bed. She didn’t want to leave him again. She wanted to curl up, stay there all day.

  “Come on,” Ruby whispered. “Let’s have some grown-up time.”

  Ruby tucked Jacob’s favorite blanket around his small frame and smiled. “Nanny’s in the kitchen if you need anything.”

  She motioned to Quinn, and the two walked back down the hall together where two cups of coffee were waiting. Ruby reached into an open cabinet, retrieving a bottle of whiskey. She shook the container in front of Quinn. “Care for a little something extra to top it off?”

  “Uh, no. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mind if I have a little myself.”

  Ruby poured a capful, then another, then glanced at Quinn. “Don’t you dare look at me with that hawk eye of yours, Quinn. I’m fine, I’m sober, and you know it. I’d never put our boy in jeopardy.”

  Our boy.

  It was nice to be acknowledged.

  They sat.

  “I want you to know I’d never keep Jacob away from you,” Quinn said.

  Ruby placed a hand over hers. “Oh, I know you wouldn’t. And to tell you the truth, I know you’ll be good to him. You’ll do all the things I can’t. Just promise me you’ll let me be a part of his life too in some way. I can’t imagine life without him.”

  “You’re family, Ruby. And not just his, but Evie’s too. We can raise him together. Look, I know I was rough on you the last time I was here. It’s only because I want what’s best for him, just like you do. He knows he’s loved, and the two of us will make sure he always knows.”

  Ruby held up her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

  “I stopped by to see Jacob, but also to ask you something.”

  Ruby raised a brow. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Roy Ferguson. What can you tell me about him?”

  Ruby grimaced. “He’s a liar. Told police he was amicable about the split with Evie. Said they both wanted it. Not true. Not long before Evie died, she sat him down, said it was over.”

  “Because she was thinking about going back to Roman?”

  “In a way. Being with Roy made her realize she still cared for Roman more than she wanted to admit. She didn’t think it was right, being in a relationship with another man while still having unresolved feelings for someone else.”

  “Did Roy know the reason she ended it?” Quinn asked.

  “Evie told him she wasn’t ready to be in a relationship with another man. But Roy knew. He wasn’t stupid. He hated Roman from the first time he set eyes on him. I don’t blame him—not for the jealousy, anyway.”

  “Mrs. Healy told me she saw Roy driving over to Evie’s house the night of the murder. Roy told Bo he hadn’t been there since that morning.”

  “Norma Healy. Old coot.”

  “You don’t believe her?” Quinn asked.

  “Never said I didn’t believe the woman. I don’t know what she saw. Whatever it was, it makes no difference to me. I’m convinced Roy is responsible for Evie’s murder. And before you say anything else, you should know, I’ve thought about it long and hard. The man is a loser, a leech. He hung around, spending her money like she could plant a few seeds and grow more. And he was ignorant—treated Jacob like he wished he didn’t exist.”

  “Evie wouldn’t have stayed with him if that was true.”

  “You’re right, but Roy was sneaky. Evie didn’t see the looks he gave Jacob when her back was turned. I did. Saw something else too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s not right. Walks around like he’s got the devil in him. He’s responsible, all right. I know he is.”

  Quinn worried. Not because of the ill will Ruby had for Roy. She worried about what those feelings might lead to if they weren’t proven or disproven. “If you feel so strongly about it, why don’t you speak to the police?”

  “I have. They keep saying they’re ’looking into it.’ I’ll be in the grave myself before they look hard enough to convict the man. I’ve been waiting for the cops to stop tailing him.”

  “You know he’s under surveillance?” Quinn asked. “How?”

  She screwed her face into a wry grin. “I have my ways. The police can’t sit there forever. One day they’ll leave, and I’ll be ready.”

  “Do you have a plan? Are you going to try and get him to confess?”

  Ruby winked. “No, dear, I’m going to kill him.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Quinn lounged on her parents’ front porch swing, dangling a leg over the side, eyes watching the door of Bo’s truck swing closed. She had to admit, she was getting used to seeing him every day. Today she actually found herself looking forward to it, wondering when he’d come, and how she’d feel when Simone returned and the daily ritual changed.

  “You wanted to see me?” he said.

  Quinn nodded. “We need to talk about Ruby. She’s convinced Roy killed Evie. Her plan is to wait for your guys to stop tailing him, and then to kill him.”

  “And you believe her?”

  “Ruby doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean.”

  “Huh. Thanks for telling me.” He gestured toward the swing. “Mind if I sit?”

  Quinn crossed her legs in front of her. Bo sat, looked her in the eye. “Ask me your questions.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve been pressing me about what we know about Evie. Now’s your chance. Ask your questions.”

  She sat straight up. “Really?”

  “I’m not saying I’ll tell you everything, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  He shrugged. “There isn’t one. I got to thinking last night, and I realized something— my approach was wrong. I thought keeping you away would keep you safe.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I feel it’s best to keep you close. If I don’t, you’ll just run around getting
yourself into all kinds of trouble.”

  She smiled. “You’re probably right.”

  “Oh, I know I’m right. I also don’t want you running to Kyle to get your answers. If you want to know something, I’d rather you ask me.”

  What he really preferred was for Kyle not to exist. It was obvious.

  “I ... thank you.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. You do need to make me a promise though. From now on, if you go anywhere, do anything that involves Evie in any way, I want to know about it. I don’t care if it’s a text or a call. I just want you to tell me. Okay?”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  “And one more thing. If we’re going to do this, you need to be honest with me.”

  “I have been.”

  He offered a sideways glance. “The gun you’re packing around. It’s yours?”

  “It’s ... Evie’s. Are you going to take it?”

  “You know how to use it?”

  “I’ve shot at pop bottles with my dad since I was a kid. I know enough.”

  “Keep it then.”

  “Thanks.”

  He held out a hand.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Since you’re so fond on shaking, I thought we’d shake on our new agreement.”

  She ignored the hand, throwing her arms around him instead, pushing him down in the process, her body flattened over his. She planned to withdraw from the embrace, but he held her tight for a few seconds. It felt good, to be there, to be in his arms. It also felt wrong. He had someone else. She pushed back.

  “Sorry ... I shouldn’t have,” she said. “I mean, I didn’t mean to—”

  “You didn’t do anything. It’s fine.”

  “Let’s talk about Evie.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “You might think Kyle told me everything last night, but he didn’t. When we were talking, he made the simplest comment. It stuck with me. He said the crime scene was clean.”

  “Mostly.”

  “What do you mean, mostly?”

  “There was a shoe print found inside the house.”

  “Different than Roman’s?”

  “Different size, different kind. We poured Denstone over the shoe impression we found outside. It’s a runny substance, looks like pancake batter. It hardens over the impression. Then forensics takes it back to the lab for analysis.”