I didn’t sound the least bit enthusiastic. Nonetheless, Barbie said, “Thanks, Emme. But, before we do that, I need a bathroom break. Then, I’d like to go outside and get some fresh air.”
“Okay.” I wiggled my way out of the booth. “I’ll meet you out front.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I WRAPPED MYSELF IN MY borrowed jacket and stepped into the night. The sky was black. Dense clouds hid the stars. And cool air danced with the hem of my dress.
I watched as people milled about near the highway and the side street that bordered the cafe. Janice was among them. Poised under the spotlight of a street lamp, she smoked a cigarette and visited with Burr Nelson.
Noticing me, Burr shuffled away, but Janice remained.
I tiptoed in her direction, moving carefully to avoid slipping on the icy sidewalk. “Hi, there,” I murmured upon my approach, my breath frosting the cold air white.
“Don’t fall.” She took a long drag from her cigarette. “I did that a couple years ago. Slipped on the ice, fell backwards, and fractured my ankle. Damn thing still aches whenever it gets real cold.”
“The weather’s not all that bad tonight.”
“No. The clouds are keeping the temperature from falling as far as originally predicted.”
With her free hand, she retrieved a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her Polaris snowmobile jacket. “Want one?”
“No, thanks. I just came out for some air.” I wasn’t about to mention that Barbie was joining me.
I looked across the road and watched Burr climb into his pickup. It was parked alongside the elevator, its nose against a giant pile of snow. “I didn’t realize you and Burr were friends.”
“Huh? I told you we were, remember? When he was on the city council, we did a bunch of work together.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot.” I hadn’t really. I just couldn’t conjure up another way to bring his name into the conversation. But I shouldn’t have worried because Janice went right on talking about him.
“Yeah.” She flicked ashes from her cigarette. “Just so you know, I . . . I told him you asked about him.”
“Is that why you left the hockey arena in such a hurry? To report back to him?”
“It wasn’t like that. We’re friends, and I figured he deserved to know.”
“Barbie and I spoke with him earlier today.”
“That’s what I understand.” She sucked on her cigarette one last time before dropping it on the sidewalk and grinding it out with the toe of her boot. “I don’t want to see him or his daughter get hurt, Emme. They’ve been through enough.”
“How so?”
She wrapped her arms around her midsection, her bare hands bunching up the sides of her open jacket. “Well, it’s really not my place to say.” She eyed her crushed cigarette. “But . . .” She kicked at the butt before raising her head. “Burr’s wife died years ago, leaving him to raise their daughter all alone.” She stopped, as if reconsidering her decision to talk about her friend. Believing it was best to bide my time and wait her out, I said nothing.
“He’s not the brightest person around,” she finally uttered into the void, “and he’s made some bad farming decisions, which have cost him dearly. Like a lot of men, he’s got a big ego and doesn’t always ask for advice when he should.” She peeked over her shoulder. Burr’s truck was headed out of town. “Anyhow, money got tight. Real tight. And Stacy, his daughter, wanted to help out, but he wouldn’t let her get a job. He insisted she concentrate on her studies and her music. She was in high school, and college scholarships were becoming a real possibility.”
She again claimed her cigarettes, tapped one out of the pack, and raised it to her lips. Returning the pack to her coat pocket, she exchanged it for a Bic lighter, flicking it until a flame caught and held. She breathed in deeply. On the exhale, she coughed. “Excuse me.” She cleared her throat. “Long story short, Stacy stole $1,000 from her 4-H club. As soon as Burr found out, he paid the money back and pulled her from the club. But the President was involved in some way. On the board or some such thing. Anyhow, he became privy to what happened. And he used that information to get Burr to resign from the city council. Said if he didn’t—or if he said anything about it—he’d notify the administrators at Stacy’s college, and she’d lose her scholarships.” She coughed again. “That would spell the end of college for her.”
“Not necessarily.”
“Well, Burr wasn’t willing to take that chance. You can understand that, can’t you?”
I said the only thing that came to mind. “The President’s an ass.”
“I knew you felt that way. That’s why I trusted you with their story.” She stole another drag from her cigarette. “I only heard it for the first time last night. Burr finally confided in me.” A white plume of smoke held its shape around her face.
“Why didn’t the President simply make Burr vote his way? Why force him off the council?”
“I asked that very thing. And he said the President didn’t trust him. Not even under the threat of blackmail.”
“Hmm.”
“The President also figured being on the council would prove useful in other ways as time went on.”
The crowd outside grew, along with the noise. I heard someone mention something about the band being on break.
Janice appeared to be getting antsy, as if the cold air was becoming an issue, even though she was dressed in tall boots, thick black tights, a sweater dress, and a parka. She’d also donned a bulky fashion scarf around her neck.
None of it looked quite right on her. Probably because Janice normally enjoyed showing off her body. It was the one trait she and Barbie had in common. Yet, while Barbie was dressed in barely-there leopard skin, she was covered from head to toe. It didn’t make sense. Particularly on New Year’s Eve.
I immediately called to mind the hockey game. There, Janice wore a turtleneck, parka, jeans, and another scarf. I didn’t think much of it at the time. It was far from warm in the arena. Most people were bundled up, myself included. But now . . .
I then flashed back to Margie’s party, where Janice sported a long-sleeve turtleneck and slacks. But, again, the weather was lousy, so there really wasn’t anything odd about her outfit. Nevertheless . . .
Is she hiding something?
“That’s what I want to know,” I muttered in response to the voice in my head.
“Huh? What did you say?”
“Ahh . . . nothing, Janice. I mean . . .” Luckily, I didn’t have to finish that sentence because we got interrupted. Unluckily, the person who interrupted us was Barbie.
“What’s going on?”
“Just passing the time,” Janice replied. “Not that we have to answer to you.”
Barbie snared my arm. “Come on, Emme, let’s go back inside. The last thing I need right now is to listen to her smart mouth.” She shivered, complete with sound effects. “Besides, it’s so cold out here the hot flash I just had actually felt kind of good. And I’m pretty sure that’s bad.”
“Why didn’t you wear your jacket?” I wanted to know.
She hugged herself until her breasts practically squeezed out of the top of her dress like toothpaste from a tube. “I didn’t plan on staying outside very long.” She edged in my direction and lowered her voice. “Truth is, I didn’t even think about a jacket. I guess being cold’s the last thing on my mind.”
“Yeah,” Janice chimed in, obviously overhearing, “from what I understand, you’ve got a whole lot of bigger problems to be concerned with.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Barbie dropped her arms to her sides, where her hands formed tight fists.
“I’m just surprised you’re here, that’s all. With all the trouble your husband’s in.”
Barbie stepped forward, her body coiled with tension. “My husband’s not in any trouble.”
“Well, I hear different.” Janice flicked ash from her cigarette as she sing-sang, “Oh, how the mighty have f
allen.”
Before she ended her last note, Barbie grabbed the front of her parka and shook her like she was nothing but skin and bones. Which she was. But still . . .
“Take that back!” Barbie hollered.
“Who’s going to make me?” Janice’s arms and legs were wheeling.
Of course, my initial impulse was to step between them, but it didn’t take long to change my mind. After all, Barbie and her determination outweighed me by more than seventy pounds, and even though Janice was scrawny, she had a whole lot of temper going on. What’s more, I was wearing spiked heels, and the sidewalk was glare ice in spots.
Cursing a blue streak, Janice staggered backwards, and her cigarette fell to the ground. With both hands free, she then charged forward and slapped Barbie across the face. First, from one direction. Then, the other.
“Ouch!” Barbie shrieked. “You scratched me with those damn claws of yours!” She swung an outstretched arm of her own, Janice ducked, and Barbie missed her head yet connected with the beehive on top of it. If the thing had been alive, she would have knocked it out cold. As it was, it toppled over, coming to rest on Janice’s right shoulder.
“Oh, no,” Janice howled, “see what you’ve done?” After attempting, but failing, to reset her hair by blindly stabbing bobby pins every which way, she dipped her head and charged. “You’re nothing but a bitch, you know that?”
For another second or two, I again considered separating them but concluded there was no way I could do it on my own, and while a mob had formed around us, no one in it seemed particularly interested in assisting me. In fact, I spotted a few women from the bridal shower, and I was pretty sure they were once more taking bets. “Knock her senseless, Barbie,” one of them yelled, while another shouted, “Janice, don’t let her get you on the ground. If you do, she’ll squash you.”
“Break it up! Break it up!” At the sound of that thunderous voice, I jumped back, as did everyone else in the vicinity, which left Tiny with plenty of room to reach in and clamp Barbie’s arms with his meaty hooks. Then, with a growl, he lifted her off the ground like a construction crane, maneuvered her away from Janice, and not so gently set her back on the sidewalk, retaining a firm grip the whole while.
“Let her go,” Janice hollered. “I can take her. She’s no threat to anything but the buffet table in the café.”
“Why you . . .” Barbie wiggled, but Tiny held on tight.
“That’s all folks,” he shouted to the crowd. “On your way. The show’s over.” He glared at Janice. “You, too. Get goin’.”
“But she started . . .” The man’s dark and dangerous demeanor must have convinced her to forego completing that sentence because she clamped her mouth shut and wisely scurried off with the others.
I remained rooted in place, even though a big part of me wanted to follow everyone else. Tiny scared me when he was nice, and at that moment, there was nothing about him that seemed “nice.” He growled like a bear and was dressed like a member of a biker gang. He wore all black, silver chains hanging from his pockets, and a red do-rag covering the top of his head.
He spun Barbie around. “Now, what in the hell was that about?”
“She’s just a big—”
He cut her off. “Oh, the hell with it. I don’t have time for this.”
Barbie pulled on the bottom of her leopard-skin dress. During the melee, it had hiked up well beyond the point of decency. “Well, no one asked for your assistance in the first place, now did they?”
“What?” Tiny was incredulous. “Was I supposed to let you get beat up?”
Barbie’s chin jutted out, and her eyes sparked. “I was handling her just fine.”
Tiny expelled an exasperated breath. “Whatever.”
“Why are you even here?” When he didn’t reply quickly enough, she added in an equally flippant manner, “Don’t you have some work to do elsewhere, Mr. Federal Agent Man?”
He retreated a couple paces. “Take it easy. Randy told me you two found out I’m working undercover.” He dropped his voice until those last couple words were barely audible.
Barbie stepped forward, into his personal space. “Something you should have told me.”
“But if I’d done that,” he said, “I wouldn’t have been undercover anymore.”
Barbie poked her finger against his chest. “You confided in that bartender!”
He grabbed her finger. “I had to! I needed his cooperation.”
“And you decided you could get my cooperation through other means, huh?” Her inference was disturbingly obvious.
“I wasn’t using you, Barbie.” He softened his voice as well as his stance. “Sure, I was interested in what you knew. I saw Tom come into the Maverick drunk the day Owen Bair got murdered. And, the next day, when I learned he was a suspect, I wanted to find out everything I could about what was going on with him.” She pulled her finger from his grasp as he confessed, “But that doesn’t mean I was feeding you a line of bull. It was great to see you.” He reached out and caressed her cheek with the back of his massive mitt. “I’ve always had a thing for you. You know that. If you recall, I wasn’t the one to end things between us.”
Barbie eased away from him. “My husband could very well be arrested for murder, yet no one tells me anything.” She quivered with emotion. “You supposedly care about me, and you’re right in the middle of the investigation, but you won’t even confide in me. Emme and I have been forced to poke around on our own.”
“Which is totally unsafe,” he reminded her.
“Which is ‘totally understandable,’” she replied, “since it’s the only way we’ll find out anything.”
At that, they took time to scowl at each other, neither willing to budge.
I edged back a few feet, determined to slink away and give them a chance to work things out on their own. Another step, though, and I slipped on the ice, my legs shooting out from under me. I shrieked, and Tiny caught me before I landed on my butt. “So much for sneaking off,” I muttered.
“Please, don’t go,” Barbie pleaded.
“But you two need . . .”
Tiny looked at me, then Barbie. “I need to get inside.”
“Why?” While only a single word, the question was huge. Barbie wanted to know if Tiny trusted her enough to let her in on what he was doing.
He rubbed his hand over his face, unmistakably at odds regarding how to proceed. His job required prudence. At the same time, he had a dear friend—someone he admittedly cared for deeply—teetering on an emotional cliff.
He huffed, puffs of white air exiting his nostrils. “Oh, come on, you two.” He hooked his arms through ours. “You better go with me before you both end up hurt.”
He lowered his voice. “Now, as far as anyone in the ‘V’ is concerned, I work road construction. I knew you years ago in the Twin Cities, Barbie. We unexpectedly ran into each other up here. You introduced me to your friend. And now the three of us are sharing drinks. Got it?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
BY THE TIME WE GOT OUR DRINKS and located an empty table, Barbie appeared far less perturbed with Tiny. When I began to talk about Janice, however, she seemed more than a little upset with me.
“Unlike you,” I said, “I like the woman. She’s funny. And while she’s outrageous, I believe, deep down, she’s a loyal friend.” Barbie made some kind of guttural noise, indicating either disagreement or heartburn. “Even so,” I continued, “the change in her wardrobe makes me suspicious.”
Tiny lifted his glass and spoke around it. “Emme, you’re way off base. It’s winter. Lots of people wear scarves and turtlenecks. But, more importantly, Janice is neither strong enough nor tall enough to heave a former pro athlete over the ledge of the observation tower. It’s too high.”
Barbie was quick to add, “And, as I said before, if she were to push to their deaths all the guys who’ve dumped her, it truly would be raining men.”
I ignored her remark and asked Tiny about Janic
e’s alibi. “Was she really in the Maverick at the time of Boo-Boo’s death? She claims she was.”
He hiked a shoulder. “The bartender’s not positive what time she left. Still, we don’t think—”
“Okay, okay.” I threw my hands up and surrendered. “You’re probably right. Most likely, she had nothing to do with the murder.” I allowed myself to slouch down in my chair. “Yet, I find it weird that she’s dressing . . .”
I let the rest of the sentence go unsaid, choosing, instead, to concentrate on my beer. It was cold and strong, while my theory about Janice was . . . Well, evidently, it wasn’t the least bit strong.
AFTER CONSUMING MY FILL and listening to a “women of country” medley by the band, I decided to share Janice’s story about Burr and his daughter. Despite Janice’s request, I had no qualms about confiding in Tiny since he was in law enforcement. And Barbie? Well, she was my friend, and I still felt guilty about withholding information from her earlier. Plus, as a journalist, she, like Tiny, routinely dealt with situations that required discretion. True, she didn’t always practice it, but she was familiar with the concept. I was pretty sure of that. Besides, who was I to judge? I’d discovered that I, too, was way chattier than I ever imagined myself to be.
After I finished my story, Tiny pointed a finger at me. “Did you get a sense from Janice whether or not Burr knew about the fraud scheme?”
I felt my eyebrows jump. “You think I’m capable of capturing nuances like that?”
“Oh, the way I hear it, Emme, you have a pretty keen nose.”
I crossed my eyes in an effort to examine it. “It’s really not that good.”
He chuckled. “Seriously, I’d like your take on Burr.”
Desperately wanting to impress him, a federal law enforcement agent, I pondered everything I’d learned about Burr. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much. “Sorry. I’ve got nothing. Nothing beyond what I already told you.”
He waved me off. “That’s okay.”
“I didn’t even think to ask her about the fraud scheme.”
A Potluck of Murder and Recipes Page 20