Now that I could stop thinking about Candace’s murder, I could fully focus on other worthy pursuits—like meeting with Hillary. I had no idea what she wanted to talk to me about, but meeting with her beat staying home to watch my husband watch TV. I had to keep myself busy, keep my mind occupied with things other than my failures.
“I’ve got to run over and meet with Hillary for a little while, okay, Kent?” I slipped on my coat, glancing over my shoulder to see the TV flickering as a commercial flashed on the screen. The back of my husband’s head bobbed up and down as he laughed at whatever antic the marketing guru had developed to keep his attention. It worked. My husband didn’t even look back at me.
“No problem.” He threw a piece of popcorn in the air and caught it in his mouth. “I’ll just be here vegging out.”
Of that, I had no doubt. “Vegging out” was a phrase I’d been hearing a lot lately. I was beginning to hate the term.
Again, I bundled up in my coat, hat and scarf to go to Hillary’s place. She answered the door before I ever rang the bell. Her husband was out of town again, looking for more land to develop. He seemed to be gone more than he was here. I’d only met him once, and he’d seemed likable enough. I guessed it was true that opposites did attract.
Lines of worry still etched Hillary’s face. “Come in.”
I stepped out of the cold. “How are you?”
“Not well. Thanks for coming.”
I braced myself. At this point, there was no telling what she might say. The thought briefly fluttered through my mind—what if it involved Kent somehow? Would I really want to hear it?
Scenarios had been going through my mind for awhile now. What could a pharmacist be involved with? Selling prescription drugs to those without a prescription, for one. What if that’s what Kent was doing? What if he had a noble reason, like he did it for people who couldn’t afford their medications? But still, it would be illegal. He could go to jail.
Or even worse, what if he was having an affair? No, I couldn’t believe it. But affairs had happened to even the most unlikely couples. One could never be too cocky.
“I don’t know how to say this, Laura.”
My heart raced. “Just say it, Hillary. It’s okay.” But was it? Would this moment change my life forever?
Hillary’s face contorted, like her inner pain had gotten the best of her. I braced myself.
“Donna is going to run against me for president of the association!” She broke into sobs and buried her face in her hands.
I let her words sink in. That’s what this was about? I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t. Instead, I patted her shoulder. I’d never seen Hillary show an ounce of emotion until now. “It’s going to be okay, Hillary. You’re an experienced leader.”
She glanced up from her hands. “You think so?”
Experienced was the nicest way I could say it. “Yes, you’re very experienced. Everyone values that.”
She sniffled. “Thanks, Laura. I needed to hear that. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am.”
“You have. Your tenacity has inspired a lot of people, I’m sure.”
“I only want what’s best for the neighborhood. All I’ve ever wanted to do was to be a leader. It’s the reason I went to Brown.”
I stopped patting her shoulder. “You went to Brown?”
She nodded. “I had big dreams.”
“What happened?”
“I think I married the wrong person.”
My eyes widened. “Mark seems like a nice man.”
“He doesn’t support my dreams. So, instead of running for city council, I’m forced to focus all my energies on this Homeowners’ Association. I’ve found my calling here.”
In one way, it was good to know Kent and I weren’t the only couple that struggled with issues. Sometimes, that’s what it felt like. On the other hand, was anyone really happy?
“Does Mark support you here?”
She shrugged. “I suppose. He’s gone so much that it really doesn’t matter. Now that the kids are teenagers, he pretty much lets me do my own thing.”
“Is he building another neighborhood somewhere?”
“On the other side of Indy. The housing market here seems to have dried up. I expect it to surge again, though. It’s just a matter of time. People are going to be coming to Boring in droves one day. It’s the type of small town that everyone wants to be a part of.”
“I’m sure it is.” But not if the townsfolk had anything to say about it.
Hillary shook her head. “Please, have a seat, Laura. I’m sorry you had to see that meltdown. I’ve been under a great deal of stress lately.”
“Is everything okay?”
She looked at me with her red eyes. Her hands shook as she wiped a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s why I asked you to come over, actually. I need your help.”
“Sure, Hillary. What can I help you with?” I couldn’t imagine what she needed my help with.
Her gaze stayed on mine and for the first time, I saw a touch of softness in her eyes. Amazing.
“Laura, you just seem to have everything so together. I need someone like you on my side.”
Was she asking me to be her friend? I wasn’t confident about where this conversation was going. In fact, I felt downright confused.
Hillary drew in a deep breath. “Laura, I need you to help me with my campaign. Donna may be my most fierce competition yet.”
“People have run against you before?”
“Of course. It wouldn’t be much of a victory if I ran unopposed.”
“Of course,” I repeated. Unease rose in me. “This is an awkward position I’m in, Hillary.”
“Donna wants to amend the bylaws.” Her voice rose in outrage. “She wants to put a limit on how many terms I can serve. She’s just doing it so she can win.” Hillary’s brows formed one long line across her forehead. The line matched the wrinkles on her brow.
“Most positions do have term limits.”
“I’m the best person for this job!” Hillary stood, her face red. Her manic expression vanished as quickly as it appeared. “I am the best person, Laura. I care about this neighborhood. After all, my husband built it. I have a personal stake in everyone here. I know people think I’m strict, but I have to be.”
I tried to keep my voice soft. “Hillary, I’m Donna’s friend as well.”
“I know. But you know I’m a better president than she would ever be. You know I am, Laura.”
The truth was, I didn’t know that.
“Hillary, what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to help preserve this neighborhood, that’s what. Donna wants to ease the rules of the association. Do you know what that would cause?”
“I guess I don’t.”
She grabbed my arm. “Come. Let me show you.”
She led me outside and into her car. The next thing I knew, she’d cranked the engine and took off toward the outskirts of town. She drove silently, which was the last thing I needed. My thoughts turned over again and again as I tried to figure out how not to hurt someone’s feelings. Joining Hillary’s camp would probably end my friendship with Donna. Truth be told, I didn’t know who would be the better president. Hillary drove me crazy sometimes—most of the time, for that matter—but at least she stayed on top of things. Donna probably would too. I did not want to be in this position.
When Hillary drove out of Boring, northward toward Indianapolis, and kept going for forty-five minutes, I got nervous. Finally, she turned into a subdivision filled with vinyl-sided homes and saplings that were barely visible in the nighttime sky.
I glanced at the houses around me, perplexed. Of all the places I thought she might take me, this was not one of them. “Hillary, what are we doing here?”
She braked and spread her hands wide. Her headlights illuminated the area ahead of us. “You see this subdivision?”
How could I miss it? “It’s dark, but yes. Kind of.”
“It’s only
ten years old. Ten years.” She began driving again and turned down a side street. The homes themselves looked similar to the ones in our neighborhood, just not as well maintained. She stopped by a house on the corner and pointed at a house with a chain-link fence, something that wasn’t allowed in our neighborhood.
“Look, do you see those tomato cages in the backyard?”
I squinted. “Sort of.”
“The owner sits outside in the summertime and watches his plants grow all day. Then he leaves the evidence of his sloppy gardening up all year for everyone who passes to see it.”
We drove to the next street.
“You see that house on the corner? The man who lives there has homing pigeons. They fly around the neighborhood and mess on everyone’s cars. And that house? It has a deck—in the front! And these people? They planted fake trees in their yard. Fake trees!”
She continued on with her soliloquy, waxing eloquently on the evils of a neighborhood with no rules.
“This could be our neighborhood if Donna is in charge, Laura. Do you want this?”
I could admit that the place didn’t look as nice as Dullington Estates but, listening to Hillary, you’d think it was the ghetto. “How do you know about this neighborhood, Hillary? Why did you bring me here, of all places?”
“Because I used to live here. Finally, the chaos just got to be too much to bear. I knew I needed a place to live with structure, where the American dream could be reality again.” I thought I saw the gleam of tears in her eyes.
“Why are you so sure Donna would let things go downhill?”
Hillary slammed on the brakes and looked at me. “Because Donna has a criminal record, that’s why.”
I gasped. “Donna? How do you know that?”
Hillary’s unwavering gaze never left me. “Because Candace told me before she died.”
“Why do you look like you’re beside yourself?” Kent slipped a striped tie around the collar of his starched white shirt as he dressed for church the next day.
I shrugged as I jammed my earring in place. “I don’t know. I’m fine.”
Kent continued to look in the mirror as he looped his tie into a knot. “Ever since you got together with Hillary last night, you haven’t acted like yourself.”
I shrugged again, not that Kent was looking. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” Finally, he glanced at me. But just as quickly, he was back to adjusting his tie.
I considered what to say to him before settling on, “Hillary wants me to help with her campaign, which I’m sure would put my friendship with Donna in jeopardy. I don’t know what to do.”
His tie must have looked satisfactory, because he grabbed his sports coat and slid his arms through. “Maybe you shouldn’t help with either. Just stay out of it.”
It sounded like a simple enough solution.
He wrapped his arms around me from behind—just what I’d been wanting. Before I found out he was keeping secrets from me, at least. “Anything else on your mind?”
Tension squeezed my shoulders. Was this the time to bring up his secret? No, I decided. Not before church. We had to leave soon or we’d be late—and Kent hated to be late. “No. Should there be?”
He shrugged and released me. “I guess not.”
“There’s not.”
Kent offered his arm. “Okay then. Ready for church?”
“Let’s go.” I looped my arm in his.
We walked in to Boring Community Church. Thankfully, the church didn’t live up to its name. I mean, sure, Kent and I were two of the youngest members in the congregation of a hundred, the music was slow, and the sermons were less than inspiring. Despite those minor details, the church was one of the best things about my move here—maybe the only good thing, for that matter.
The people were welcoming, the food good, and the faith steady. We slipped into the pew.
Harry stood in front of us.
I’d never seen him at church before. Maybe he felt the need to be here for the forgiveness of sins. Had he killed Candace? He seemed more like the type who’d kill someone with his hands instead of using poison. Apparently, he could be a hothead sometimes. Someone had smothered her, but other details had been carefully plotted.
I had to stop. Even at church I couldn’t stop thinking about murder or suspecting people of being killers.
Forgive me, Lord.
The pastor talked about gossip, which I thought was appropriate. I couldn’t help but feel he was speaking directly to me. In fact, it even seemed his eyes kept focusing on me. I shifted in the pew and looked down at my sermon outline.
I knew gossip was wrong. I knew I shouldn’t be speculating so much lately about my neighbors. But how would I crack this case if I didn’t ask questions? Why was gossip such a struggle? Why was it so easy to justify?
“You okay?” Kent whispered.
I nodded. But was I? Maybe God was disappointed with me. Maybe He was more than disappointed—maybe He was angry.
God didn’t like gossip. I’d learned that from the moment I started going to church.
So I guess I just had to learn to keep my mouth shut—all the while trying to find a killer.
Tiara and her husband, Darius, came over for a cookout after church. Kent had invited them, mostly because Darius also rooted for the Chicago Bears, and Kent wanted to talk football with someone.
It wasn’t that I minded the couple coming over. Tiara was pleasant enough, even if her best friend was a killer.
Possibly.
Or was it Harry? Or Jerry?
I needed to let the suspects percolate in my mind for a while longer. I felt sure I could figure things out, if just given the right amount of time. The problem was, time wasn’t on my side. Not when a killer wanted my neck on the chopping block.
Kent and Darius, along with the twins, were outside on the deck overlooking the lake, grilling chicken and steak while Tiara and I prepared pasta salad inside. Maybe this would be a good time to ask Tiara some questions about Donna—strictly on a factual level. No gossip.
“How’s Donna been doing lately? She’s seemed a little stressed.” I licked my lips, hoping I didn’t sound too eager.
Tiara shrugged and continued to chop celery. “She’s just been busy, I guess.”
“I’m sure it’s stressful running for president of the Homeowner’s Association.”
Her head jerked toward me. “You know about that?”
I nodded. “Hillary’s a pretty fierce opponent.”
“She’s controlling, that’s what she is. Someone needs to put her in her place.”
“I never knew that Donna had an interest in running for office.” I tried to sound casual as I cut up a couple tomatoes and added EVOO—extra virgin olive oil.
“Someone’s gotta step up and take a stand against Hillary.” Tiara looked at me. “I mean, you think so, too, right? Or has Hillary cast her spell over you?”
I found myself at a loss for words. “Hillary is a bit overbearing.”
“You should join Donna’s campaign then.”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out.
Thankfully, Kent stuck his head in the back door. “How much longer, ladies?”
“About ten minutes!” I called back. I quickly mixed the rest of the ingredients, hoping the subject of Donna’s campaign would be forgotten. No such luck.
We decided to eat on the deck since the day was unseasonably warm. We settled at the table and adjusted the umbrella to block the sun from our eyes. The charred remains of our shed stood in the distance, a visible reminder of the threat my little family was under. Kent and Darius seemed oblivious to it as they chatted about how to get rid of crabgrass.
If only that was my biggest worry.
A moment of silence fell as we all dug into our food.
“So, who do you think did it?” Darius sliced his steak and put a hefty bite in his mouth. As he chewed, he looked each of us in the eye.
“He’s so ob
sessed with the whole mess!” Tiara said, throwing her hand in the air and laughing. “I think he wants to be Columbo or something.”
“There’s a killer on the loose in Boring. Everyone should be obsessed with it.”
I nodded. “He’s right.”
His dark eyes connected with mine. “So, what’s your theory?”
Donna, Harry, Yvonne? Who did I start with?
I remembered that sermon about gossip. I should start with no one, I realized, with a slight slump to my shoulders. “I have no idea. I wish the police would arrest someone and soon. Or I wish Jerry would just confess.”
I was willing to let the subject drop. Sure, I wanted to ask for more opinions, but I would be the good girl.
“Well, I think it’s Harry.” Darius raised his eyebrows as if waiting for a reaction.
I nearly choked on my water, which then turned into a cough attack. Kent pounded my back, looking at me with scrunched eyebrows.
Tiara stared at her husband with wide eyes. “Darius! That’s not very nice.”
“Neither is murder.”
Tiara held her palm to the sky and shook her head. “It’s so ridiculous. He thinks Harry did it because he used to date Candace.”
I coughed again. “Harry and Candace used to date?”
Tiara wrinkled her nose. “I thought everyone knew that. We all thought they’d get married one day.”
“What happened?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.
“They went away to college, and Candace dumped him for Jerry.”
“Jerry went to college?”
“Laura!” It was Kent’s turn to reprimand me this time.
“I didn’t mean that he doesn’t seem educated. It’s just that–” Okay, so that was exactly what I’d meant.
“They didn’t meet in class. Jerry delivered pizzas to her college dorm. That’s how they met,” Tiara offered.
I wanted to look at Kent and say, “See! I was right.” I restrained myself.
“Were you around when they opened the store? What’s it been? Ten years now?” I wiped my mouth with a napkin.
Darius nodded. “Candace was working in finance up in Indianapolis. Jerry convinced her to give up her job to support his dream of opening a furniture store. I don’t think she ever forgave him.”
Death of the Couch Potato's Wife: Cozy Christian Mysteries (Women Sleuth, Female Detective Suspense) Page 11