Dead In Bed

by Curry, Edna

  He caught a nipple in his mouth and drew it in. Pleasure shot through me and a heavy need in my lower abdomen urged me to open my legs to invite him to come in.

  He slid a hand between my thighs to be sure I was ready, then grabbed a foil packet from the night table, covered himself and slid inside me.

  I gasped in pleasure.

  He stopped for a moment to allow my body to accept him, then began to move. “Okay?” he asked meeting my gaze.

  “Wonderful!” I agreed, meeting him thrust for thrust as we rode the crest until stars exploded.

  Afterward, we lay in each other’s arms, catching our breath.

  “I definitely needed that,” Paul said, sliding his long fingers along the curve of my breast.

  I grinned, then caught his hand, nipping his fingers with my teeth.

  “Me, too. How about a shower before we go eat?”

  “Okay,” he agreed leaning forward to kiss my breast again. “I love showering together.”

  This time, Scamp had to stay on the rug by the bed while we were on the other side of the bathroom door.

  Sharing a shower invited a repeat of lovemaking, every bit as wonderful as the first. However, eventually, we rinsed off the last of the soap and toweled dry.

  We got dressed to go to a nearby restaurant for dinner, leaving Scamp behind, looking forlorn.

  “I’ll bring you a piece of my steak,” Paul promised her.

  She wagged her tail at him in response as if she could understand.

  I laughed and patted her head. “We’ll be back soon, Scamp. You spoil her rotten, Paul.”

  “I like her. If I was home all of the time, I’d have a dog of my own.”

  The wind had picked up and the weather had definitely gotten more like winter. I snuggled close to Paul as we walked to my car, his arm around my waist. We took my car instead of his because his big semi was not a convenient vehicle for short drives.

  Since Paul is a macho guy who prefers to drive, I handed him the keys and got in to the passenger seat. The fan started up as he turned on the motor, blowing cold air on me. I shivered and quickly turned it off. The drive was too short for the heater to kick in. I snuggled as close to Paul as my seat belt would allow.

  “I think it’s going to snow,” Paul said. “Did you check the weather on your computer before you came?”

  I shook my head. “No. I thought you did. You always keep on top of road conditions.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t this time. Let’s do that before you start back in the morning. Guess I’ve been driving mostly farther south lately, where the weather is still fall. I’d better switch to my winter mode.”

  “I guess so. It is late November, after all.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for hoping winter would hold off at least until after Thanksgiving.”

  I laughed. “I’d like that, too but I doubt it will happen.”

  Paul parked and we hurried inside. The restaurant was bright and cheerful, with a country look and knotty pine décor. It was warm, smelling of a mixture of delicious foods. Real flowers filled the little vases on the tables.

  We were lucky to find a quiet corner booth in the crowded room. A pretty, young waitress brought us coffee and took our order, then hurried off again.

  “This weather reminds me that Nora wants us to come to her house for Thanksgiving,” Paul said.

  I ran a finger over the hand he used to hold his coffee cup. “Does that mean you’re going to be here for it? It’s just next week, isn’t it?”

  He grinned. “Yes, I’ll be here for Thanksgiving dinner. Nora would never forgive me if I’m not.”

  “Good. I’m beginning to like her more all of the time. She took me to lunch last week, too.”

  “I’m glad you two are getting along,” Paul said.

  “So, how was your week?” I asked as the waitress placed salads and rolls in front of us.

  Paul told me about the various places he’d been and what kinds of loads he’d hauled.

  “Now,” he said, giving me a stern look. “I want an honest update about what’s going on in Landers. And don’t try to kid me or sugarcoat things. Remember, I talked to Nora today.”

  Heat ran up my cheeks. His mother would have told him all she knew, but she didn’t know about a lot of stuff. I forked up a mouthful of salad, then debated how much to tell him. I do sometimes play down the details of what’s happening on my jobs when I talk to Paul about them. I have to because, like Ben, Paul likes to play the protector role and I can’t do my job when they’re interfering.

  I do sometimes cheat on the client confidentiality thing with Paul. After all, he’s my fiancé, so he’s almost a business partner, right? Besides, it often helps me work through a puzzle by talking it over with someone. I gave him a quick summary of the week’s events since I’d last talked to him.

  “Sam agreed to do the audit?” Paul asked with a frown. He buttered another hot roll, then bit into it.

  “Yes. He said he wanted to do what Clara wanted. Besides, he said if she suspected something was wrong, they needed to find the underlying cause of it. Apparently, the factory hadn’t been making as much money the past few years.”

  Paul drank some coffee, then speared a forkful of salad.

  “But Clara didn’t tell Sam about ordering the audit?”

  “No. He says that hurt because it meant she suspected he could be involved. He swears he isn’t.”

  The waitress brought his broiled steak and my breaded shrimp, then scurried off again.

  “That doesn’t prove he’s innocent, Lacey. Sam could be doing it as a cover to make himself look good.”

  “Yeah, I thought of that. But none of this fits with Clara’s death and Harry’s death.”

  I eyed him a moment, then told him about the other things that had happened, besides the threatening messages that he already knew about. As I expected, Paul exploded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this stuff? Drugging Scamp, slashing tires? Lacey, this is getting dangerous.”

  “I know, Paul, but maybe the audit will show something that will settle the whole thing.”

  He shot me a disbelieving glance. “How long will the audit take?”

  I speared a shrimp. “Sam says anywhere from a couple of days to a week, depending on what they find.”

  I ate my shrimp and drank some coffee, watching Paul digest the info. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to solve the problem for me. Men always want to fix things for their little woman. It really, really bugged me, but what could I do? I love the guy.

  “Do you want me to take a vacation week and stay home with you until this is settled?”

  “Don’t be silly, Paul. This is my job. I’ll handle it. I’ve been threatened and tailed before and came out of it okay, didn’t I? Besides, it may turn out to be nothing.”

  “You’ve been tailed, too?” Paul frowned, picking up on the one item I hadn’t mentioned before.

  I bit my lip. “A dark blue SUV followed me as I drove home from Canton this morning, but I noticed it before I turned onto my road, so I headed on into Landers instead. I lost the SUV when I parked at the restaurant. It went on across the river into Wisconsin.”

  “Did you get the license plate number?”

  “No. I got some pictures, but they don’t show much. Sam said the factory had a vehicle like that. Any of the employees could have been driving it if it was theirs. He says he has no idea who might want me to stop investigating Clara’s death.”

  “Yeah, but another SUV would be too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?”

  “Right,” I agreed.

  “We both know you don’t believe in coincidences. So, what else have you been up to this week?”

  “I interviewed a lot of people at the factory and in Clara’s neighborhood as well as Clara’s mother, Helen. I met her disabled brother, John, who still lives in his mother’s basement. Both the mother and brother blame Sam for Clara’s death and they seem reall
y angry that she left the factory to him.”

  “Hmm. Do you think they have good reason to think he did it?” Paul asked.

  I shook my head. “They didn’t give any reasons. Ben questioned them too. It is rather odd how they want him to be guilty. Like they’ve already pushed him out of their family circle.”

  “That does sound rather odd. Were they close before? Anyone else have a reason to be angry with Clara?”

  “Sam says Helen never liked him. There were four women that Clara fired lately.” I gave him the shorthand version of my visits to those women, then went on. “Clara had fired others in the past, too, but these seemed to have the most to complain about. Several people have said Clara fired the women Sam was interested in because she suspected he was having affairs.”

  Paul nodded. “That sounds like a reasonable thing for Clara to do. Get rid of the competition. Or at least put them out of sight on a daily basis.”

  “I suppose. However, one woman hinted that there was something illegal going on at the factory. Cassie thinks she was fired because Clara suspected she was involved in it, or at least, knew what was going on.”

  “She didn’t say what it was?”

  I shook my head. “No, when I asked her more about it, she clammed up and told me to leave.”

  “So, we can be sure Clara suspected something illegal and that’s why she ordered the audit.” He looked thoughtful.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said. “Paul, you have more business training than I do. What can it be? I checked for illegal immigrant workers and there weren’t any.”

  Paul shrugged. “It could be a lot of things. Fraud, embezzlement, theft of product, poor maintenance, breaking OSHA rules, cheating on employee time cards or payment schedules, stealing supplies and selling them online, cheating on pricing of goods or a dozen other things.”

  “Yikes. I thought of a couple of those, but didn’t realize there were so many. How does a business person even keep up with all of that?”

  Paul laughed wryly. “Often they don’t, which is why there are problems.”

  “Sandra, Sam’s assistant, took me through the factory, so I talked to various people who worked there. I think Sandra’s in love with Sam.”

  “Well, there’s a twist. Why didn’t Clara fire her along with the other women?”

  I dipped a fat shrimp into red cocktail sauce, then savored the tangy morsel as I thought about it.

  “Maybe she didn’t know? Or felt sure Sam didn’t care for Sandra? Sandra’s pretty uptight. Clara might have been sure Sam went for the more sensuous type.”

  “That’s possible. Anyone else interesting?” Paul asked.

  “Well, I met Wade, the factory’s controller, Bill the production manager and Gus the shipping manager.”

  “Besides Sandra, all of them had opportunities to fit one of the categories of illegal stuff I mentioned,” Paul observed.

  “Yeah, I suppose. And Nora said there were rumors that Carter Manufacturing was in financial trouble.”

  “Oh? Then it’s probably true. I don’t think Nora would repeat it if she hadn’t heard it from a very reliable source,” Paul said.

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s true. I asked Sam about it and he admitted it. But he seemed puzzled as to why they weren’t making as much profit as they did a few years ago.”

  “So maybe Clara figured it out or at least suspected and someone got worried and that’s why she was killed.”

  “That’s possible,” I agreed.

  “Let’s think about this. Who benefited from Clara’s death?”

  I made a face. “That’s another thing I did this week. Sam asked me to attend the reading of the will with his lawyer.”

  Paul raised an eyebrow at that. “So what did you find out?”

  “Sam benefited the most, I guess. At least, he inherited everything except for some annuities to her brother and her mother and some gifts to various charities she’d worked on.”

  Paul eyed me. “But you don’t believe Sam killed Clara.”

  I shook my head.

  “Why not?”

  I chewed my lip. “I’m not really sure, Paul. He was probably an unfaithful husband, but I get the feeling he’s being honest when he says he loved Clara and he didn’t kill her. I just believe him, I guess.”

  “So you’re using your woman’s intuition?”

  I ran a frustrated hand through my short hair. I’d done that several times, so I’d probably messed it up good by now. “Yes, I trust my gut about it.”

  His mouth twisted. “Lacey, I’m not sure that’s a very good reason.”

  “Maybe not,” I said. “But it’s done me well so far. I think it’s that I’m really not using so-called intuition. I’m using body language and other signals I’m unconsciously reading from him.”

  “So, you don’t know how or why, but the person is unconsciously telling you they are or aren’t lying?”

  “Yes. And I’m reading it without really knowing how, but those signals are helping me either believe what a person is saying or making me distrust him or her.”

  “Hmm. That’s a reasonable theory. But, if Sam didn’t kill Clara, who did?”

  “I wish I knew. And why did they kill her?”

  “You’re sure she didn’t commit suicide?” Paul frowned.

  My laugh came out as a short bark. “I’m not sure of anything anymore. None of it makes sense to me.”

  “Well, who had a motive?” Paul repeated.

  “Nobody except Sam. And his is pretty skimpy. I mean, he already owned everything with her, why not continue to share? Why kill her off?”

  “Unless she was about to uncover some big embezzlement scheme of his or something.”

  “But Paul, that doesn’t add up to me. Why would Sam have to steal from himself? From what I heard, both he and Clara worked very hard and willingly put everything back into the factory. They lived for the place. They hardly ever took vacations.”

  “So what if Sam was tired of working that hard? And wanted out but she didn’t?” Paul speculated.

  “Divorce is simple nowadays. He could have let her buy him out.”

  “Maybe she couldn’t get enough money together to do that.”

  “And he killed her to resolve the argument?” I shook my head. “I don’t buy that.”

  “So maybe he didn’t ask, just started helping himself to the money in preparation for taking off one day.”

  I frowned. “If he did that, then why is he still here? Wouldn’t he have simply disappeared at the first hint of discovery?”

  Paul shrugged and chewed some steak. “Maybe he panicked and killed her?”

  “Then why wouldn’t he move the money to some off-shore account and disappear overseas to enjoy the money after he killed her? Why stick around? Why hire me? It doesn’t wash, Paul.”

  “You’re right. And it doesn’t explain all the other things that have happened, either.”

  “Exactly. I wish I knew who killed Harry. And who is harassing me. That reminds me I got some files from Harry’s apartment that I haven’t gone through yet. I need to do that as soon as I get home.”

  “Okay,” he said, digging out his credit card and signaling the waitress for their check. “But first, we’re getting a doggy bag for this piece of steak for Scamp and going back to the motel to enjoy a good night’s sleep. You look exhausted.”

  “Thanks a lot.” I sent him a nasty look.

  He blushed, leaning over and giving me a quick kiss. “You always look gorgeous to me. And I love you anyway, Lacey, tired or not.”

  “Okay, I forgive you.” I finished off my coffee thinking I should have ordered decaf. Oh, well. If I couldn’t sleep, I could always keep Paul awake as well.

  Chapter 14

  By the time we got back to our motel, snow was coming down heavily and Paul had to use the windshield wipers to see where we were going.

  He parked the car. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

  Scamp was waiting as if she k
new he’d bring her a treat. She wolfed it down, wagging her tail appreciatively, then gave a soft bark and waited by the door for their attention.

  Paul had his coat half off, but slipped it back on.

  “I’m sorry, Scamp. I should have thought about you. You want out, eh? I’ll be right back, Lacey,” he called.

  While they were out taking care of doggy business, I pulled out the dog food and bowls I’d brought for Scamp and filled them for her.

  In a few minutes, the two of them were back. Paul was carrying his laptop.

  “I remembered I’d left this in my truck. We should have internet access here.”

  “I’ll bet they charge extra for it, though.”

  “If we need it, we need it.” He sat at the little table and opened his laptop, powering it up.

  I picked up the brochure on the dresser. “There’s just one fee for each 24 hours of unlimited usage. Good deal,” I said. I couldn’t hold back a yawn. The long day was catching up with me. “Sorry, but I need a nap.”

  “Yeah, fine, go ahead, Honey,” Paul said, his eyes on the screen in front of him.

  Scamp lay on the rug beside the bed as I slipped into my pajamas and crawled into bed.

  Much later, I was vaguely aware of a cell phone ringing and Paul talking to someone softly. I turned over and went back to sleep.

  I awoke to find the room dark and Paul curled around me. With a satisfied sigh, I snuggled closer and closed my eyes again. The next time I awoke, it was to the sound of the door closing. I sat up.

  Paul and Scamp were gone, but the scent of coffee perking filled the air. I hurried into my clothes, poured myself some and went to the window. A blizzard raged outside and at least six inches of snow covered the parking lot and the vehicles outside.

  Damn it, I should not have come. Why hadn’t I checked the weather before I’d left home? What kind of Minnesotan was I anyway? I knew the weather could change on a dime at this time of year.

  Now I was stuck here and I needed to be home, working on the case. What was happening back in Canton while I was off enjoying a lover’s weekend? Was this any way to build my business?