I chuckled lightly. I wanted to press him further, but I was so happy to see him I didn’t want to ruin the moment. Besides, I’d probably hear about this bonfire sooner than later, whether I wanted to or not.
“You know, we haven’t won a championship since you left.” Coach moved to get to his feet just as Freddie walked up behind him.
“Hi, Coach,” he said, looking a little like an eager puppy.
“Freddie Ng,” he boomed. “Where have you been? Hiding in that castle of yours again?”
Freddie shrugged.
“Have you been working on your jump shot like I told you?”
Freddie nodded quickly.
“Good. Good,” he said, clapping Freddie on the back. “I’ll leave you kids to your fun.”
Coach walked away and Freddie sat in the vacated chair. “I love Coach. He always believed in my untapped athletic potential.”
I nodded then asked, “Have you heard anything about me and a bonfire?”
Freddie’s eyebrows jumped. “No. Why?”
I slumped back into my chair. “Just something Coach said.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Freddie asked, scanning my face.
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “He was just all nice, and now I feel all weird and emotional.”
“Well, get it together,” Freddie snapped. “We have work to do.”
“Okay, okay. Jeez,” I said, straightening up again. “So, is Shelley here?”
Freddie pushed one of the two beers he’d brought in my direction. “Her shift starts in a couple of minutes.”
I took a big gulp. Then another.
“Easy, tiger,” he said, watching me wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Oh, crap, that gives me an idea.” He held up his index finger in a “wait one second” gesture. He then pulled out his phone, poked the screen a few times and brought it to his mouth. “I should have known this case wouldn’t be a cakewalk. I was saddled with a partner—a dame no less—and she was a drinker to boot.”
I blinked my eyes a few times, slowly. “Um, what was that?”
“I’m writing a book,” he replied, squeezing his shoulders in across his chest in a self-hug.
“A book?”
“Yeah, don’t get me wrong. The Madame F thing is great. Keeps me busy, and would pay the bills if I had any. But I don’t think it’s my calling,” he said, wagging his finger in the air. “I was pretty upset when my Sherlock hat took that bullet, but then I realized something. Sherlock’s not me. I’m more the gumshoe detective type.”
“Right,” I said, probably not trying hard enough to keep the judgmental tone from my voice.
He tipped his chair back onto the rear legs. “Then it was like BAM!” His chair skidded, and he had to grab the table to steady himself. He took a self-conscious look around, giving one woman an awkward wink before continuing. “A book! You coming back to town … it’s all part of a bigger picture. It’s the universe telling me I should write a book. A detective novel.”
I blinked a few more times.
“So, what do you think?”
“I’m speechless.”
“Oh, you’re just jealous,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “That’s what you need, by the way. A passion. A life’s dream. A—”
“What I need is to not be charged with murder,” I said, taking another reckless swig of beer. A few drops spilled down my chin. “What I need is a mother who isn’t hell-bent on ruining her livelihood. What I need is to get out of this town. Once I do all of that, maybe I can give your life dream and mine—whatever it might be—a little more focus.”
Freddie slowly blew some air out of his lips. “That’s fair.”
Just then I heard a not-so-subtle tapping sound on glass.
The front of the bar consisted of two big picture windows on either side of the door. A group of women—my women—stood outside of those windows peering in. A few waved.
I glanced around the bar. The locals all stared at the women. Some with confusion. Some with just plain annoyance.
I looked back at the ladies, casually tucking my hair behind my ear with one hand while making a frantic shooing gesture, under the table, with the other.
Yup, bringing the ladies in was definitely not one of my better ideas.
It was silly to think anyone was going to talk to them, and now they probably wouldn’t talk to me either.
Maybe if they left now nobody would figure out they were with me.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The bird lady held up a stack of papers and pointed at me. I felt everyone’s eyes turn. Well, ignoring them wasn’t working. I gave the bird lady a pained smile and a thumbs-up. That seemed to satisfy them, and they drifted away from the window.
“What was that?” Freddie asked.
“Nothing,” I said, rubbing a hand over my face. “They’re helping.”
“I thought I was your partner.”
“You are.” I swallowed some more beer. “I don’t know exactly how it happened, but they’re working with us now. Doing research. That kind of thing.”
“Um, you should have discussed this with me first.”
My eyelid began to twitch. “Freddie…”
“This isn’t some Red Hat Society Murder Club, you know.”
“Uh-huh,” I said while mentally counting to ten. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
“It’s gumshoe.”
“Got it.”
“Seriously—”
“Freddie!” Time to switch gears. “Okay, so let’s get back to Shelley,” I said, trying to keep my tone even. “You’re telling me she’s as bad as she was back in high school?”
“Maybe worse.”
“How can that be possible?” I glanced over to the darkened door by the bar that led to the second floor. “Remember that Sadie Hawkins dance? Hey, did … did … what was her name again?”
“Nicole,” Freddie replied, knowing exactly where I was headed.
“Yeah, Nicole,” I said with a smile before remembering what we were talking about. “Did that patch of hair ever grow back?”
Freddie’s eyebrows went up as he gave a small shake of his head to indicate no.
“Wow.”
The beer was making my thighs feel a little weak, but my thoughts were racing. Maybe Shelley killed Dickie. She was crazy enough to do it. But then again there seemed to be a lot of people in this town crazy enough to do a lot of things … myself included. And while I didn’t have much of a motive for any of my suspects, I had even less of one for Shelley. Besides, Freddie was probably exaggerating. Shelley had to have matured at least a little.
“YOU!”
I flinched. Then quickly looked over to the bar. Shelley stood in the door frame gripping the sides. She looked mad … crazy mad. Boy, somebody was in trouble.
“I should have known!” she yelled. “You’re the one who’s been sleeping with Tommy!”
I looked around the bar to see who was in trouble.
Funny thing was, everybody was looking at me.
“Freddie,” I whispered without taking my eyes off Shelley. “Is she … talking to me?”
“Looks that way,” he replied.
With a battle cry, Shelley launched herself forward.
I hit the ground and scrambled underneath the table.
I wasn’t a coward—at least I didn’t think I was—but I had seen Shelley fight. She was willing to go places normal people wouldn’t go.
My eyes widened in horror as chairs seemed to magically fly off the ground, making way for Shelley’s charging feet.
To the side, I heard Freddie scramble to get up.
“Freddie!” I yelled, making a grab for the loose fabric of his shorts rushing by.
“Don’t worry! I’ve got your back!”
Unfortunately, it was my front I was worried about.
Shelley’s tanned legs suddenly filled my view.
“Come out of there,” she ordered with a bit of a growl. Her finger
s gripped the edge of the table.
Oh my God. She was going to flip it.
She was going to flip the table like some crazed housewife on TV!
I wrapped my arms and legs around the post. Shelley gave it a good yank, but she couldn’t flip my entire weight.
I needed to get this conversation under control … now.
“Shelley,” I said in a loud but calm voice. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
I tried to peer out from underneath the table to see her face, but all I could see was her bare midriff above her shorts. Tommy’s name was tattooed across her belly with a little heart at the end.
“You would say that, Boobsie Bloom!”
Okay, so maybe it was the beer in me, but on some level, this was starting to get really annoying. “Seriously, Shelley, I’m not sleeping with Tommy!”
She pulled at the table in hard, frantic bursts, rattling my brain.
“Don’t try to deny it. I know it was you!”
She bent and suddenly her face was inches from mine. I scrambled backward, finally allowing her to flip the poor piece of furniture on end.
Freddie helped me to my feet, pinning me by the arms in front of him.
“We can help each other, Shelley.” I held my hands up between us. “I know Tommy’s been cheating. Maybe together we can figure out with who.”
She clenched her fists but seemed to be listening.
“We have history,” I tried. “We went to school together. I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m not crazy.”
Chuckling broke out around the bar.
It was only one or two people at first, but then more joined in.
Then it seemed like everyone was laughing.
“What is going on?” I asked, looking back at Shelley.
She smiled and folded her arms across her chest. “After last night, I think everybody here knows just how crazy you are.”
“Last night? What are you t—”
I might have finished the question, but Shelley launched herself at me. Freddie and I stumbled backward and fell hard like dominoes.
Enough was enough.
They all thought I was crazy? I’d show them crazy.
I jumped to my feet and made a grab for the nearest chair. Before Shelley knew what was happening, I had her trapped in its legs and was pushing her back toward the wall.
All four posts of the chair hit the wood paneling with a solid thunk!
A few framed pictures shuddered on the wall. One smashed on the floor.
Shelley’s crazy eyes settled on mine. I saw a little doubt flicker there … and I liked it.
“You and I are going to talk like grown women.”
Shelley’s gaze flashed to the bar. I knew her brother was pouring the drinks. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He took a step toward us.
“Stay!” I yelled, pointing a finger at him. He froze, along with everybody else in the bar.
“Now, Shelley,” I said, lowering my voice. “A lot of crazy stuff has been happening at the lake this past week. A lot of stuff I wanted nothing to do with.” I licked my lips. “And I’m not going to lie. It’s stressing me out a little.”
I heard someone shuffling up behind me.
“Uh, Erica,” Freddie whispered. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“Maybe you want to put—”
I made a harsh shushing sound at Freddie even as I was having a brief moment of self-realization. Sure, Shelley had attacked me first, but pinning her up against the wall with a chair probably wasn’t going to help my case.
I never did this kind of thing back in Chicago.
It was this freaking town.
This lake made people crazy.
I took a deep breath.
“Shelley?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to put the chair down, and we are going to have a conversation.”
She nodded again.
“You are not going to attack me.”
I saw doubt flicker in her eyes.
“Shelley!”
She grudgingly nodded again.
I brought the chair down slowly. We stared at each other a good minute before she moved to the nearest table and sat down. I joined her.
“Okay!” Freddie shouted, clapping his hands. “Show’s over!” He smiled and whispered over his shoulder, “I’ve always wanted to say that.” Then his voice grew big again. “You can all get back to your beers!”
Low murmuring resumed around the bar, and Freddie joined us at the table. “So … that was exciting,” he said.
We both shot him a look before resuming our death stare at one another.
I broke first. “Shelley, you need to believe me. I have never slept with Tommy.”
She looked me over slowly before letting her eyes drop.
“I didn’t think so,” she said gruffly. “Not really. You were always so hung up on Grady.”
She shook her head. “I hate to say it, but it was kind of pathetic.” Her eyes rolled to the ceiling. “But you just kept after him.”
Leftover adrenaline and beer still had my brain feeling a little hot. “Okay, I think we’re getting off t—”
“Then what you did at the social to get his attention?” Her eyes got big. “And dragging poor Betsy into it? I mean … wow.”
“What I did?” I said, tilting my head. “What I did?” I repeated, leaning in. “You think I did that on p—”
Freddie put his hand on my arm. “How about I take over, hmm?”
I exhaled slowly and leaned back in my chair.
“So Shelley, we all know that Erica has … well, a reputation,” he began. I gripped a piece of silverware on the table. It just happened to be a knife. Freddie cleared his throat. “But how do you even know for sure that Tommy is cheating? And why were you so convinced just now it was with Erica?”
I had to admit. That was smart. We both knew that Tommy was cheating, but if Shelley had to explain herself, it might give us some details that could be useful.
“I always know when Tommy’s cheating,” she said, disgust flaring her nose. “He’s a dumbass.”
“Then why do you stay with him?” I asked, jumping in.
Her eyes darted away from me. “We all make mistakes.”
Huh. I couldn’t help but wonder what mistakes Shelley had made.
“Anyway, I thought it might be Erica because it started up this week,” she said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got all the girls in town too scared to touch him. I thought maybe Erica forgot who he belonged to.”
I flashed a look at Freddie.
“I’m not the only new girl in town,” I said.
Shelley raised her eyebrows in question.
Right then the front door opened with a jingle.
“Hi, everybody!” a voice called out.
The entire bar answered the call.
“Candace!”
Chapter Eleven
That did not just happen …
I whipped around.
… everybody in the bar did not just shout Candace’s name … in unison.
I waited for Freddie to stop beaming his welcome. When he didn’t, I slapped him on the arm.
What? he mouthed.
I mouthed back, You know what.
She’s nice. See? He motioned around the bar, showcasing how much everybody loved Candace.
I rolled my eyes.
You’re a mean drunk.
“What are you guys doing?” Shelley asked.
We both snapped our silent mouths shut.
“Nothing.”
I needed my beer. Where was my beer?
I looked back at the original table we had been sitting at, only to see Candace, in a pink sundress, picking her way over the downed chairs and tables to get to us.
Great.
“Hey, guys!” she called out, dimples winking at me.
Freddie, and even Shelley, returned the brightness of her greeting while I mumbled something that sounded lik
e hello.
“Mind if I join you?”
Freddie eagerly nodded and moved to get her a chair while I silently mimicked her, Mind if I join you?
I noticed Shelley looking at me strangely, but then, a second later, she turned that stare to Candace.
Ha! Now she was getting it. One point, Erica.
Then Shelley stood up abruptly, chair screeching against the floor.
Uh-oh. While I wanted to cast doubt on Candace’s apparently stellar reputation, I didn’t want her to get beat up because of me. Again, that probably wouldn’t help my case.
Luckily, Shelley simply said, “I’ve got to get to work,” and walked away.
“Is she okay?” Candace asked.
“Fine,” Freddie said, waving dismissively. “She and Erica got into a bar fight.”
“What?” Candace asked, taking another look around at the furniture strewn about.
“It was nothing,” Freddie said.
“Yeah … nothing,” I added in my most menacing voice. I didn’t exactly have a game plan when it came to proving Candace was the murderer, but if it was her, that meant she was trying to frame me with that weenie skewer. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to let her know I was on to her.
“Don’t mind Erica,” Freddie said quickly. “She’s still ringing with adrenaline.” He shot me a warning look.
“Really, Freddie?” The words were out before I could stop them.
“What?”
I said nothing. Instead I looked away and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Did you guys want me to leave?” Candace said with a blink blink of her eyelashes.
“No,” Freddie said. “Erica, here, sometimes, well, making friends isn’t … she had a difficult childhood.”
I was about to yell something when Candace said, “Oh, that can’t be true. I liked Erica the first moment I met her.”
“Really?” both Freddie and I replied.
“Of course,” she said, looking at me. “You’re so funny. But hold that thought. I’m going to go get us some beers.”
“Aw. You don’t have to do that,” Freddie said sweetly.
She pulled a card out of her purse and waved it in the air. “I’m not. Just doing my job.”
Freddie waited until she was a few feet away before he hunched over the table and whispered, “You really need to get a hold of yourself.”
Skinny Dipping with Murder Page 14