by Rose Pressey
“Hold on.” He made a time out gesture. “How do you know this car tried to run over you? Back up and tell me what happened.”
Why was I sharing any of this with him? He was always so smarmy, surely, he didn’t care.
“Never mind, it’ll take too long. Just forget I mentioned it. I don’t want to take up any more of your time. I know you have tons of work to do.” Before long, I’d have every scene out that window memorized.
“Come on.” He gestured with his head toward the door.
A hint of something hidden flashed in his eyes. Seduction, maybe?
“What? Where are we going?”
He grasped my hand and led me to the door. “You need dinner and I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”
“Wait.” I stopped. “Like a date?”
He tugged on my arm. “Don’t worry, it’s just dinner.”
I climbed into Reed’s large, shiny black truck and he closed the door behind me. The inside still had the new smell, mixed with Reed’s scent. The interior was clean just like the exterior. As he came around to the driver’s seat, I checked my reflection in the mirror, wishing I had time to reapply my makeup.
“What’s for dinner?” He smiled, exposing his perfect white teeth.
“Italian? I like the little place on Second Street”
“Sounds good.” He grinned, then steered onto the road.
He headed in the direction of the local Italian restaurant. We remained silent for most of the trip as he navigated the busy traffic. Reed parked across the street and we slipped into the small restaurant housed in one of the historic buildings downtown. It used to be the old movie theater back before they featured sixteen movies at once. The old ticket window was still there but not in use. Within a few minutes, we’d taken our seats at the tiny table in the corner and placed our orders. I munched on a breadstick.
“So, let me get this straight, a blue car made you run off the road and hit a mailbox. Then, the same blue car zipped by and you fell down?”
“Correct. Well, in the opposite order, but that’s the gist of it.”
He popped a piece of bread into his mouth, chewed, and then said, “It could be a coincidence. There are a lot of crazy drivers in the world. Ninety percent of drivers are talking on their cell phones and not paying attention. I don’t think you should panic. If it happens again call the police.”
“I called them once,” I confessed.
“What did they say?” he asked with a worried slant to his eyes.
“Not much. I don’t think they cared. After all, I am a murder suspect.”
He snorted. “Yeah, and I’m President of the United States.”
“I take it by your statement that you don’t think I’m guilty?” Condensation formed on my glass and I watched it trickle down the side, avoiding Reed’s sexy gaze.
“The only thing you’re guilty of is being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Bad luck, that’s all.” He popped another piece of bread into his mouth.
I nodded and picked at the edge of the tablecloth. “I do tend to have bad luck.”
“You can say that again. Finding a dead man would fit nicely in the bad luck category.”
Okay, time for a subject change. “So, you wanted to buy the house? Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“There was no need.” He stared at the table. “I lost it and you got it. I waited too long trying to decide. You win some, you lose some.” He shrugged.
“Sorry.” I gave a searching gaze. Was he upset with me and just pretending that losing the house didn’t bother him?
“Don’t be. Really, I don’t care.” He gave a lopsided grin, exposing the lone dimple.
“Thanks for dinner, by the way,” I said.
“Not a problem. Thanks for coming.”
I smiled.
After a few minutes, our entrees arrived. The waiter rushed over, setting our steaming plates in front of us.
“By the way, what is a Sweet Suzie’s?” Reed plunged his fork into the pasta.
“Sweet Suzie’s.” I laughed.
“Oh, well…whatever you call it. You keep talking about it and I have no idea what you mean.”
“Ask your Aunt Carolyn. She goes there all the time.”
“She’s never mentioned it.”
“It’s a store. Candles, home décor and stuff.”
“A girly place?”
I stared, then giggled. “Yes, a girly place. Anyway, Suzie Simmons owns the store. Her daughter’s boyfriend is a police officer here in Rosewood, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know. Is that fact important?”
“It is to me.”
“Oh, I see.” He took a drink of water and placed the glass down. “How come I feel as if I’m stuck in an episode from I Love Lucy when you said all that?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you just going to make fun of me? Or will you listen and take me seriously?”
“No.” He laughed. “Go ahead. You were talking about Sweet Suzie’s. Tell me more.”
I rolled my eyes. “Never mind. Let’s talk about something else. Do you come here often?” I asked.
Our hands touched as we both reached for the butter. My hand tingled from his touch. Reed motioned for me to go first, so I grabbed the dish.
“That sounds like a pickup line.”
“Funny.” I smirked.
“Okay, seriously, I do come here quite a bit. I love the food, but it’s usually not this crowded.”
I glanced at him from beneath my lashes. A little attempt to flirt wouldn’t hurt, right? Instead of enjoying my spaghetti, all I could think of was the way my hand tingled from Reed’s touch. My thoughts were more tangled then ever. I should have eaten a microwave meal at home in front of the TV. No, flirting wouldn’t help the situation, at all. I needed to stop. I tried small talk to keep from making goo-goo eyes at him.
“What did you do in Atlanta? Did you have a handyman business there?” I asked.
“No. I was a marketing manager for a small firm.”
“Oh, wow.” My eyebrows shot up.
“Does that surprise you?”
“No. No, I didn’t mean it that way.” Insert foot in mouth. “It’s just you don’t seem like the type to be confined by an office. You like the fresh air too much.”
“You got it. It wasn’t me. Now I’m working for myself and much happier.”
“So you just quit your job to move here?”
“Yeah, I left the suits behind.”
“Wow. I’m impressed. That takes a lot of nerve.”
“Thank you. I’d always wanted to live in a smaller town, so when Carolyn made the move, I decided what the heck. Now I’m thinking it may have been fate pulling me here.”
I almost chocked on my water. What did he mean by that? I looked down at my plate, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.
He continued to chow down, so I dove in and pushed the feelings to the back of my mind. I just needed to let the conversation flow. We lingered over our food and Reed told me about the perils of starting his own business, along with stories of his college days. I didn’t mention all my entrepreneurial experience.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Sure.” I took one last sip before getting up.
Maybe Reed wasn’t so bad, after all. I mean, when he stopped being know-it-all Mr. Fix-It, he had a charm about him that was undeniable.
“Don’t forget about that farm sink. That kitchen needs one. I can pick it up for you,” he said as we walked to the parking lot.
Never mind. I take it back. He was bossy all the time. You can’t teach an old handyman new tricks.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The parking lot had cleared out and no one else was around, just Reed and me. Except for the now distant clatter within the restaurant and the slight whistle of the wind, silence filled the air. Reed led me to his truck by placing his hand on the small of my back.
The drive was too short, though, once he stopped telling me how to remod
el the house and talked about his childhood instead.
“Tell me a story about your childhood,” I said.
He glanced over and grinned. “Really? You want to be bored, huh?”
“Yes, I’m asking for it.” I winked.
“Hmmm, let’s see. When I was four, I painted my dad’s back with shoe polish. He fell asleep on his stomach in the middle of the day with his shirt off. I guess to my four-year-old mind that was a perfect invitation to make his entire back black. My mom thought it was hilarious. I don’t think my dad did at the time he was scrubbing his back.”
“Oh my God. You were a little Dennis the Menace. That is hilarious.”
“What about you? I told you a story, now it’s your turn. Let’s hear what you got. Can you top mine?”
“Oh, why didn’t I think of that before asking?” Most of my stories revolved around things my mother did, not me. “Okay. I wasn’t mischievous, though. Here goes. When I was three, I put popcorn in my ear and had to go to the hospital and have it removed. I just wanted to see if it would fit.”
“Wow, you really weren’t mischievous if that’s all you got.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I told you.”
His conversation was interesting and his smooth voice soothed me. The next thing I knew, we’d pulled up beside my car. I’d kept too much of his time, anyway. If I fell for Reed then no one would think I’d completed the flip project by myself. Heck, he would probably get all the credit. I needed to do this on my own. Maybe to prove to myself I could do it more than to prove to anyone else.
“Thanks again for the food,” I said.
“I had a great time.” He opened my car door.
I smiled and waved goodbye as I climbed in my car. He shuffled his feet and looked as if he had something to say, but didn’t, so I backed down the drive and headed home. In spite of my feelings on doing the flip myself, I still couldn’t stop wondering what his lips would feel like next to mine. And, oh heavens, what his chest would feel like pressed to mine.
***
The next morning, my phone rang and I flinched. Was Nick Patterson calling? Or Julia Cooper? I hesitated before picking up. With my shaking hand, I forced myself to push the button.
“Hello?” My voice trembled.
“Hi, honey. It’s Carolyn.”
I blew out a breath. “Hi. How are you?” Relief washed over me. Thank goodness it was her.
She sighed. “Frank left for a business trip, so I’m missin’ him something fierce. He’ll be gone a couple of weeks. I thought I’d call you to cheer myself up.”
I laughed. “I’m glad you did. You can call me anytime. How’s everything with you otherwise?” I asked.
“I heard some talk this morning in town.” Her tone sounded as a cross between flabbergasted and delighted.
Aw. So, she really called to gossip. No wonder she liked Sweet Suzie’s.
“Oh, yeah? What kind of talk?” My interest piqued.
“Apparently, Ron Spencer never left town like everyone thought. He’s been locked up in his house like a hermit. Rumor has it that his wife left him, which shocked everyone. They seemed so happy. Apparently, she packed up and headed for Texas.”
I’d never listened to town gossip in the past. Maybe I didn’t know what I was missing.
I clucked my tongue. “Interesting. I wonder why she left him?”
“That’s not all…” She added mysteriously.
“Do tell.” Now I was getting into the swing of things. Within no time, I’d be an old pro at the gossip thing. I plopped down on the chair and clasped my arms around my knees with the phone pressed between my shoulder and chin, waiting for her bombshell.
“The police just took him in for questioning,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Wow. You’re kidding. I can’t believe it.” I hadn’t seen that turn of events coming. I was glad it wasn’t me sitting in the police station.
I needed to pay a visit to Suzie, quick. After all, she was the queen of gossip, and she may have more details. Did that mean I was off the hook?
“Listen, Carolyn, my other phone is ringing.” I lied. “Thanks for filling me in. I’ll call you later.” My words came out in a rush.
“Sure thing. Talk to you soon.”
I didn’t want Carolyn to know what Suzie told me about the suspect list, after all, it was supposed to be between the two of us. Suzie held the link to my fate—my only source of information, so I made a beeline for my informant. My Volvo sputtered through the narrow streets. I watched and waited for the mysterious blue sedan to pop out of the shadows. Few cars passed—none of them the shadowy stalker. Thank heavens.
With Ron Spencer at the police station, maybe my worries were over. In no time, I pulled up in front of Sweet Suzie’s. I buttoned my jacket, grabbed my purse, and made my way through the door. I admired Suzie’s newly added fall pumpkins and Halloween decorations. A ghost hung over the door.
“I wondered when you’d show up.” Suzie giggled.
“Carolyn just told me and I drove as fast as I could. What happened?”
“They took him in for questioning, but my daughter just called and said they’ve already let him go.”
I felt defeated. Back to square one. “Why did they let him go so quickly?
“I don’t know, darlin’. I’m just thankful she’s good at keeping me updated.”
“You’re daughter is wonderful…just like you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Heck, I’d probably be nuts by now.”
“Just keep buying candles and we’ll be even.”
I winked, then chuckled. “I shouldn’t have any problems with that. If the lights go out at my house I’m set for the next ten years, straight.”
“Speaking of buying and customers, have you heard from Julia Cooper?”
Should I mention that I thought I saw Julia? No, I decided to keep it to myself. Maybe it was just my imagination.
“Thankfully, no. After she informed me about her husband being a ladies’ man and airing all their dirty laundry, I figure the less I talked to her, the better. Although, I’m working on the project as fast as I can to get her out of my hair. She creeps me out.” I sniffed a blueberry muffin scented candle.
“Like I told you, any woman who’d look his way, he chased after. The filthy two-timer.” Suzie scowled and shook her head in disapproval.
“Let me know if you find out anything else.”
I paid for another candle I didn’t need and stuffed the change in my purse.
“You’re getting quite the collection.”
She handed me the bag.
“I’m addicted, and I think I need a twelve-step program.”
“Nothing wrong with candles,” she said.
“Bye-bye.” I waved, then stepped outside the store.
Sounds muted around me. The only noise was the beating of my heart. My fingers released and the bag fell from my hand. I let out a gasp. A smashed car window on my car greeted me. I moved closer and examined the broken glass. What the heck? A brick rested on the seat—the source of the damage. I needed to call the police.
Should I touch the evidence? This was no accident. White paper with scribbling covered half of the light tan colored brick. I had to find out what it was. I unlocked the door, opened it, and eased my hand around the shards of broken glass, retrieving the brick. My suspicions were correct, I saw writing through the thin paper. The note was attached by a thin, white string. I glanced around to see if anyone watched, then unwrapped the note from around the deadly weapon. In bold letters the words: You’re next jumped off the page. A chill rippled down my spine. My mouth went dry and my pulse quickened.
I scrambled for the door and ran back inside Sweet Suzie’s, stumbling through the threshold. Suzie looked up with wide eyes.
“Call the police,” I mouthed.
Chapter Thirty
“Oh my dear.” She hurried to the phone as I clutched my chest, trying to catch my breath.
This time, I ha
d physical evidence. I could prove someone wanted me dead. The note said so, for heaven’s sake. Why did someone want to kill me? Things were getting worse and I still didn’t have answers. But I intended to find out. No way would I not put up a fight. Time ticked way for me to find the answers, though. Soon, it would be too late. With shaking hands, Carolyn dialed the police. I rushed over and stood beside her, wondering what to do next. My stomach knotted with nerves.
Sheriff Bass showed up, instead of sending one of his loyal cronies. He parked his cruiser to the rear of my car, then took his time climbing out from behind the steering wheel. He seemed less than interested though, with the familiar I-don’t-give-a-damn glare in his eyes. Suzie and I watched from the store window. After studying the damage for a couple of minutes, he sauntered in.
“Where’s the evidence?” He pulled out a cigarette, put the smoke to his lips, then lit it.
“Here.” I handed him the brick.
“You shouldn’t have touched it.”
There was no pleasing this man. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Did you tamper with it, Suzie?” He asked.
“No, Chester. I’m not messin’ with any of your business, don’t worry.”
He pulled out a bag marked evidence from his pocket and dumped the brick and note in it with barely a glance. I’m surprised he even bothered.
“So let me get this straight...” He puffed smoke from his cigarette into my face. “You found this brick in your car and the note tied around it?”
I glanced at the No Smoking sign displayed on the window. He didn’t seem to notice or care.
He held up the bag containing the brick and the note. You got it, Sherlock.
“Yes, that’s what happened.” My mouth twitched. “Are you going to take the brick for fingerprints?” I glared at him.
Could they get fingerprints from it? I had no idea.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said with a cynical tone.
What a jerk. Even with the evidence in his hands, he thought I threw the brick in my own window. I knew by that look in his eyes.
“What about me being threatened? Aren’t you going to take that seriously?”