“You’re quiet,” Babe said. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About the meeting tonight. Where were you, by the way?”
“I had a previously scheduled engagement.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really. You have a hot date you’re not telling me about?”
She snorted. “You’re crazy. Now, tell me about the meeting tonight. How was it?”
I gave her a brief rundown.
We ran out of things to talk about after that, and I simply let Babe sing along with Beatles songs over and over.
How did Harry do this every night? I would lose my mind. Street after street of the same thing: nothing. People in this neighborhood went to bed early. There weren’t even any cars driving around.
Boring lived up to its name, proudly.
“Why aren’t you working anymore, Laura?”
My head swung toward her in shock. “What?”
“Working? You know, what you used to do for a living to make money. Why haven’t you looked for a job here?”
I cleared my throat. “That’s out of the blue, isn’t it?”
“I’ve been wondering for awhile. A lot of people have. I mean, you seem like a career woman. You look pretty miserable as a housewife, to be honest.”
“I’m not … miserable. Not really.” I didn’t sound convincing, not even to myself.
“So, why aren’t you looking for a job up in Indy or something?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got all night.”
Suddenly, I felt trapped by the car. I had no way to avoid telling Babe the whole embarrassing story—unless I saw a suspicious activity.
I pointed in the distance. “Was that someone moving over there?”
“It was a tree branch. You’re avoiding my question.”
My shoulders sagged. Why put off the inevitable? I had to start talking about the whole fiasco eventually. “There was this little incident at the firm where I worked.”
“Incident? Keep going.” She rolled her hand in the air, as if telling me to speed it along.
I sighed. “I worked in public relations. I was about to be named a junior partner.”
“Oh, this is going to be good!”
“Babe! This is my life, not a made-for-TV movie.”
The sparkle disappeared from her eyes. “Of course, chickaroonie. I’m sorry for sounding insensitive.”
“One of our clients had this catastrophe of sorts—she was admitted into a mental hospital. We held a press conference, trying to clear the air and do damage control.”
“Why is that a catastrophe?”
“Because the person is famous, a celebrity. The press was all over it, especially since this person had gone on record as saying she didn’t believe in medicating those with mental illnesses.”
“What happened?”
The whole incident flashed back in my head, and I wanted to clench my eyes closed. “The CEO of the company issued the talking points for our press release, and sent me out to present them. I questioned a few of the points. I thought he offered too many details about what happened. I thought it would embarrass our client.”
“And?”
“He insisted that this person’s manager had okayed it, and basically he pushed me in front of a bunch of reporters. I stuck to the script. Later, the celebrity sued us for making that information public. She said her manager didn’t have the authority to release the information.”
Babe grimaced. “Oh.”
I nodded. “Yeah, oh no. Let’s just say that someone had to take the fall for it. And since I was the one in front of the microphone—”
“That’s terrible.”
“What’s worse is that my humiliation occurred in front of everyone in the public relations industry. There’s no one who will hire me after that. I’m a laughingstock.” My cheeks felt warm at the mere thought.
“You just followed your boss’s orders.”
“I should have trusted my gut. It turned out the celebrity’s manager was just trying to keep her client’s name in the headlines. We played right into it. I just felt awful.”
“What did you learn from it?”
Again, my head swung toward her. “Excuse me?”
“Bad things happen in life, no matter who you are. You’ve got to take those lemons and make lemonade.”
“What possible good thing am I supposed to take from being publicly humiliated?”
“You moved here, didn’t you?”
“Oh, and that’s been such a great thing.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been bored out of my mind, and the only fun thing I can do is try to find a killer, which it turns out I’m terrible at. I don’t know what I’m worse at—public relations or solving murders.”
Babe scowled. “Your move here hasn’t been all terrible, has it?”
“I can’t think of one single good thing that’s come from it!”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized what I’d said. “Oh, Babe. I didn’t mean that. Of course I love my friendship with you. I’m sorry I said that.”
She raised her chin, and I could tell I’d hurt her. “Boring is the best little town I’ve ever lived in. The people are good. They’re hard workers. Maybe they’re too simple for your tastes, but I think the people here are topnotch!”
Shame filled me. “They are topnotch. I’m sorry.”
“You’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself to see it.”
“I don’t feel sorry for myself.” Did I?
“Could have fooled me. All I ever hear about is how awful your life is, how miserable Boring is, how terrible your marriage has become. When are you going to take responsibility?”
I pressed my lips together and silently drove for a few minutes. What did Babe know about my life? Nothing. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand that sometimes life takes you in a different direction than you’d planned, and you can either pout about it or make the best of it.”
I wanted nothing more than to drop Babe off at her house and never speak to her again. Except I really didn’t want to do that. I loved Babe.
She turned the radio up, and we cruised the neighborhood, devoid of conversation for the next two hours. Nothing was happening in Boring, but I couldn’t mention that to Babe or she might think I was whining. I didn’t even know why we were doing Neighborhood Watch Patrol anymore since Donna was behind bars.
Lights in the distance caught my eye. Yes, there was life in Boring. At least one person had ventured out late into the night, a near sin for this town.
I was in a bad mood, with nothing but my thoughts to turn over and over. Thoughts about Babe’s ill-hearted comments, about lemonade and being sour.
“Where’s that car going?” Babe asked, all inflection gone from her voice.
I watched it a moment before turning off my headlights. “It’s pulling onto our street. I think it’s that new family.”
“Cut the engine, too.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
I didn’t feel like arguing with Babe anymore, so I did what she said. We sat in the car in dark silence. I watched as Steele and Gia pulled into their driveway. No one got out from the car, though. I wondered why.
Babe turned off the dome light, opened her car door and slid a leg out.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m getting out,” she snarked. “I can see that. Why?”
“Because whoever is in that car is staying in their car. They’re probably afraid we’re going to see them.”
“I think you’re reading too much into this.”
“Am I?”
“Babe.”
“Come on. What do we have to lose?”
Absolutely nothing except some boredom.
We quietly slipped from the car and then dodged behind the houses until we had better view of the Brunos. Gia and Steele slipped out of their black SUV. They wore all black, and looked around as if
afraid someone was watching them.
Babe and I looked at each other. What was going on? They sure didn’t look innocent.
We took the long way to the Brunos’ backyard—first skirting the lake behind Babe’s house, my house, and then Tiara’s. Finally, we hid behind the Bruno’s shed. From our vantage point, I could see right into their living room.
My eyes widened when I saw them pull out something from their duffle bag.
Spray paint.
Now, just what were they doing with that? “We better get back to our car.”
We sprinted back to the SUV just in time for Chief Romeo to pull up.
“Ladies.” He nodded. “Are you on duty tonight?”
“We sure are,” I responded.
“Tiara called and said she saw someone creeping around behind her house. Know anything about that? Have you seen anyone suspicious?”
Yeah. Us. I kept my mouth shut.
“It’s been as boring as ever around here tonight,” Babe said. “We’re just looking for some excitement.”
“No, boring is good.” I remembered Karen’s accusation tonight at the association meeting. This would be the perfect time to ask the chief if he’d heard anything about Hillary.
“Have you questioned Hillary yet?” I blurted.
The chief looked startled at my question. “Excuse me?”
“I heard someone saw her at Candace’s house on the day she died.”
“As a matter of fact, we heard that same rumor and questioned her. It turns out she has an alibi. Several of them, to be exact. She was at a banquet up in Indy. Several people remembered seeing her there.”
For some reason, the news disappointed me.
I got back in the car and cruised. Nothing happened for the rest of the night.
I got home in time to crawl in bed and sleep until the phone woke me up.
It was Chief Romeo.
“Laura, someone ransacked the pharmacy. You and Kent better get down here.”
Chapter 22
The pharmacy looked like a person who’d been beaten in a brawl.
The front windows had been smashed. Graffiti—boasting messages like “Go Away, City Slickers!”—slashed across the remaining walls. Shelves had been ransacked. Medications were missing. How would we ever recover from this?
I thought I saw tears in Kent’s eyes. This store was his baby. And now someone had ruined everything.
We stood with our arms around each other, staring at the storefront like two people who couldn’t tear their eyes away from tragedy.
Chief Romeo approached, doing his normal shirt-tuck. “Any idea who might have done this?”
Kent shook his head. “I have no idea. As far as I know, I haven’t made any enemies since I moved here. I’d like to think I’ve made a lot of friends.”
I remembered the Brunos coming home in the middle of the night, and cleared my throat. “I saw the Brunos with spray paint last night. They got in late, maybe late enough to have done this first.”
Chief Romeo took notes as I told him what I’d seen. “We’ll talk to them. In the meantime, I think you should call your insurance company. I’ll get a couple of guys to board up the windows for you until we get things figured out.”
I cleared my throat again. “Chief Romeo, just out of curiosity, who discovered the vandalism?”
“Harry called early this morning to let us know he’d driven past and seen it.”
Harry. His name sure had come up a lot lately.
I nodded and mumbled “thank you” as he walked back toward the remains of the pharmacy.
Kent and I remained at the building, staring at the destruction. Several townspeople wandered past and offered condolences.
“I’m sorry this happened.” Paul from the bank approached us. “You reckon it was someone trying to get drugs? I hate to think of people in Boring as being addicts, but I guess you can’t get away from crime like that, no matter where you go.”
“Drugs would be the obvious reason,” I said, “but why paint these messages? Why say such awful things?”
“People are strange. It’s hard to say why they do what they do.” Paul patted Kent’s shoulder. “Let me know what I can do to help you.”
The rest of the day was a blur of talking to our insurance man, filling out paperwork, and waiting for the store to be released by the forensic team so we could get inside.
A question haunted me: Was this vandalism in any way related to my snooping into Candace’s murder? I mean, why the pharmacy, of all places in town? There had to be a connection.
Finally, Romeo told us to go home and get some rest, that he’d call us when he knew something. Apparently the Brunos had an alibi—they were at a club in Indy where people spray- painted the walls. More than ten people could attest to seeing them there.
Which left us at square one.
Kent looked totally dejected in his recliner. He didn’t even turn on the TV.
I knelt beside him and tried to find the right words. “It can be fixed. Everything that someone did last night to the pharmacy can be mended.”
“Maybe.” Kent stared at the wall.
I took his hand. “I’m sorry, honey. I know you love the store, and money’s been so tight, but we’ll get through this. Things always have a way of working out.”
“Maybe this is a sign.”
I tensed. “What’s a sign?”
“The pharmacy and what happened to it. The threats on your life. On my life. Everything. Maybe this is a sign that we shouldn’t be here.” He finally looked at me. The loss I saw in his eyes saddened me.
I shook my head slightly, sure I hadn’t heard him correctly.
“What?”
“You’re miserable here, Laura. I know you are. You try to hide it, but you can’t. You miss Chicago and our old life.” Kent stood and shook his head. “Maybe this was all a bad idea. I was chasing a crazy dream, and I pulled you into a mess in the process.”
“What are you saying?”
“Let’s go back to Chicago.”
I blinked. I couldn’t believe he was saying this, the words I’d longed to hear since we moved to this place. I could go back to my friends, I could find a new job, I could wear cute shoes.
But my husband would be miserable.
“Kent, this is your dream. You can’t give up on it.” The lights of Chicago faded from my happy place.
“I think this was all a mistake. I’m sorry, Laura.” His shoulders heaved with a sigh. “I mean, I’m working too much anyway.”
I’d never seen Kent like this. But my own dreams began getting in the way of his. This was my chance to leave this place with all of its yawns and snores. Why would I encourage him to stay?
Sure, it would be a pain to move again, but the trouble would be worth it. We were both city slickers at heart. Living in Chicago didn’t make us bad people.
“I’ll talk to someone about selling the business tomorrow.” He kissed my forehead, all light gone from his eyes. “Now, if you don’t mind, I could use some time alone.”
“Sure.” I turned to walk away, to give him space.
“And Laura?”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you’re okay. That’s the important thing.”
“That I’m okay?”
“With everything going on lately, I’d rather they target the store than you.”
I tilted my head. “Really?”
“Of course really.” He cupped my face with his hand. “I’m going to go stare at the TV for a little while.”
I nodded. “I’ll take a walk.”
I started walking and couldn’t stop. Before I knew where I was heading, I’d left the neighborhood, passed the school, and stood at the edge of downtown Boring. I just couldn’t seem to stay away from the store. I wanted to see it again, even though I knew it still looked the same as it did earlier.
My cell phone rang as I stood across the street from the building. I pulled it from my purse and answered.
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“Laura? It’s Megan Staples. How are you?”
Megan was one of the partners with the publicity firm where I’d worked. The last person I expected to call. I hadn’t talked to her since “the incident.”
“Megan! Wow. I’m okay. And you?”
“Listen, I have a question for you. I’ve left the firm.”
“Really? I didn’t ever see that happening.” Like never, ever.
“I didn’t like what they did to you. I’m starting my own company, and I’d like for you to come work for me.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Are you serious?”
“Dead.”
Dreams of being back in PR work flooded my mind. Being in the hustle and bustle of things, dressing up, meeting clients, feeling important. “Wow, Megan,that would be great.”
“So you’ll do it?”
I glanced at the pharmacy. I remembered the conversation I just had with Kent. Would we really move from here? And why did I feel a little sad at the thought?
“I need to talk to my husband, but I think he’d be open to moving.”
“Okay, do that and get back with me. I really think we could start something big and go a long way with it. I know that whole debacle before you left wasn’t your fault.”
I hung up and felt in awe. Was this God’s way of working everything out? Were we supposed to move to Boring as a test of faith and now somehow we’d passed and were able to return to our real life? Maybe I could feel some sense of purpose again, other than trying in vain to track down a killer.
For the first time in months, excitement surged through me. Maybe I could finally leave this place behind. Even the cool stillness of the day couldn’t move me from my spot in front of the pharmacy. Maybe Kent was right. Maybe this was some kind of sign.
As I made my plans for the move back to Chicago, I thought I saw movement inside the pharmacy. I stepped closer. The police had all left. Crime scene tape still prevented people from entering the building—including Kent and me. Perhaps a bird had gotten inside? Was that what the movement was?
I squinted my eyes, hoping to get a better look. A flash of blue swept by the window. Someone was definitely inside. And I knew who.
Death of the Couch Potato's Wife: Cozy Christian Mysteries (Women Sleuth, Female Detective Suspense) Page 15