Just Evil

by Vickie McKeehan

  “I don’t buy it. She did everything she could to convince me I wasn’t smart enough to answer the phones at her real estate office. Remember how she reacted when she found out Gloria and Morty gave me the gofer-slash-file clerk job at the law firm? The woman was mad as hell for weeks.”

  They all three nodded, remembering those bad years. Then out of the blue, Quinn changed the subject back to Jake. “You went out with this guy last night, right? Please tell me you got all gorgeous, wore that little black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, and made the jerk sit up and take notice.”

  “I was so gorgeous he was rendered speechless.”

  “That’s my girl, make him suffer. Make him suffer, then have mind-blowing sex, right? Good plan. I like that plan. It’s time you had great sex.”

  Kit gave her an embarrassed stare. “Sex isn’t on the agenda. It was just dinner…and wine…lots of wine. He doesn’t even like me. Very much. Remember, he’s never liked me.” And then her brain recalled that mind-blowing kiss.

  Baylee snickered. “Yeah, right. If he doesn’t like you then why’d he take you to dinner? And break Collin’s nose?” Like they’d done in their teens, Baylee mimicked Kit’s words, and then all three women burst out laughing.

  “Wait a minute, seems to me I remember the night you saw his wedding announcement in the paper, you went home, choked down a pint of Chunky Monkey, and cried your eyes out for a week. Is this guy really ready for a relationship or is he still hung up on his wife?”

  “Geez Quinn, give me a break.”

  “Okay. But if this guy hurts you, he’ll have to answer to me.”

  “And me,” Baylee said, before adding in a low voice, “if he’s the kind of man that won’t take no for an answer, he’s a user, a rotten bastard you don’t want to be around anyway.”

  Kit and Quinn shot each other a knowing look. Was this the opening they’d waited for? Was their friend on the verge of sharing more? But when their look lasted a little too long, their answer came when they noticed Baylee take a step backward, figuratively, in retreat. It wasn’t so much her body language as it was the mortification that crossed Baylee’s face that had Kit deciding this wasn’t the time to open up a festering wound and pry.

  Instead of reaching over and shaking Baylee unconscious until she spilled her guts, Kit turned to Quinn and chided, “Let me get this straight, a minute ago you were all ready for me to jump the man’s bones and now you’re trying to protect me?”

  “You’re vulnerable. You’re going through a rough time.” Quinn shot Baylee a glance, but didn’t voice the concern she felt for both of her friends. What was it with these two anyway? Baylee shows up with a baby, all wigged out about everything. How was she supposed to tiptoe around that? Now Kit was a murder suspect. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “Just having sex,” added Baylee, trying to keep the mood light. Already willing to put her momentary lapse of control behind her, she simply wanted to enjoy being around the two people she considered her sisters. She told herself she needed this time with them. Absently, she wondered if she too might have to take off again for parts unknown in the middle of the night. Putting that worry aside for now, Baylee considered when the three of them might be together like this again. It wasn’t Quinn’s brutal schedule at the hospital that might keep them apart, but whether or not Kit stayed out of jail.

  Turning more serious, Baylee pointed out, “You’ve only dated a couple of times since you moved here, right? If you haven’t had sex in a while, don’t just jump in bed with Jake because you think you know him. It’s been a year. People change; guys change.”

  “Good advice. Just because you knew him way back when doesn’t mean you know him now. Has it really been four years since you’ve done the deed? If so, I think that makes you almost virginal, a saint or something.”

  “Hardly. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  When Quinn stood up to leave, she held up a curved pinky in the air on each hand, a gesture they’d practiced since they were eight, a symbol of their unity. Kit held out both of hers, linked one with Quinn’s, and waited for Baylee to put Sarah back in her crib to perform the ritual. Now forming a small circle, in unison, in sing-song fashion, the three repeated the words, “Together we let no one hurt us. We are most powerful when we are one. We draw strength from each other. One.”

  With that, they fist-bumped each other.

  Kit sighed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

  “We don’t intend to let you find out,” Baylee reminded her with a hug.

  Quinn grew serious. “I’d get someone to look at those files Connor sent you, the sooner the better.”

  “I could call Jake, see if he has time to sort through the stuff, but I don’t want to leave Baylee by herself. She was swamped this morning.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You go ahead. It’s important to get this taken care of quickly.” Then maybe Connor Boyd wouldn’t have a reason to call Kit again. “I’d rather you go see a lawyer though,” Baylee reasoned.

  “Look guys, I’ve got to get going. I pull another long shift at the hospital tonight, so I may be a little scarce for a while. Doesn’t mean I’m out of the loop or that either one of you can’t reach me if you need me.”

  Sending a quick what-if-Kit-gets arrested look in Baylee’s direction that confirmed they were both on the same page, she winked and added, “But if things heat up with Mr. Hottie, text me. I’m never too busy for those kinds of deets.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Before leaving for Jake’s office, Kit was wiping down the counter when the towel she was using knocked off something shiny sitting next to the cash register. The object went flying through the air. The shiny thing landed on the hardwood floor with a thud and Kit automatically reached down to pick it up. The object was a little larger than a toy soldier, except that it wasn’t a soldier. She felt the heavy weight as she held it in the palm of her hand. The piece was pure gold, minted in the shape of a cowboy sitting astride his horse in front of a rounded sunset in the background.

  The artist in her appreciated the intricately woven design of the sunset interspersed with the painstaking detail of the cowboy. A lot of work had gone into minting this piece, she thought.

  She didn’t know why, but all of a sudden, her mind wandered to her father. In an instant, her imagination kicked into overdrive and the cowboy depicted on the gold trinket resembled him. She shook her head.

  What was wrong with her? She blew out a quick breath and ran her hand through her hair. It was a toy, nothing more. Baylee had probably found the thing somewhere in the store. A child had dropped his toy as he’d shopped with his mother. She tried to remember if she’d seen kids in the store earlier in the day, and then remembered she’d been late getting there.

  It didn’t matter, she decided. She shook off the weird feeling. Why finding such a thing would have her feeling so edgy she didn’t know, other than the fact that since Saturday she’d had the strangest sense about everything.

  And look how that had turned out.

  When she heard the door jingle she looked up—and smiled. Absently she stuck the toy cowboy in the pocket of her jean skirt and walked over to Gloria, who entered the store with her little Chihuahua, Morty, so named because Gloria was convinced the dog was her late husband’s reincarnated soul.

  “You must indeed be psychic, Glo. I was just thinking about you earlier and you show up out of the blue. What are you doing here anyway?”

  “I was worried. I wanted to see for myself you were okay. Jake told me about your encounter with Collin.”

  Kit leaned over, hugged her aunt, and kissed her cheek. Then in a stern voice, she went into lecture-mode. “Worried, huh? Enough to call Jake Boston to the rescue? Did you send him out here on Saturday, too?”

  Gloria sat down at one of the tables and immediately put a bewildered look on her face that made it seem as if she wasn’t sure which fork to use to eat her salad
. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I called him after the police left my house yesterday. I panicked. Sue me. Aren’t you even going to offer me a cup of tea?”

  Kit walked behind the counter, grabbed a teabag, poured hot water into a cup, and brought it over to her aunt. She sat down across from Gloria eyeing her face for any indication she was evading the issue.

  Gloria sensed the once-over. “Oh for goodness sake, I merely asked an old friend to look in on you, where’s the harm in that? It’s ridiculous that the police think you could have had anything to do with Alana’s death. Since the man went through a similar situation when his wife was murdered, I thought he’d know what to do, how better to handle the situation. Lord, the police hounded that man for the better part of a year. Was it wrong of me to think that perhaps he could provide some insight we might overlook?” Gloria took a sip of her tea before setting Morty down on the hardwood floor to sniff at Pepper, who’d wandered in from the bookstore to look over the Chihuahua. Despite their difference in size, Pepper and Morty were longtime buddies and soon Morty had snuggled up at Pepper’s side for a nap.

  “So you didn’t call him to come out here Saturday?”

  “He was here Saturday? Whatever for?” She knew, but she had no intentions of tipping Jake’s hand.

  She gave Gloria the short version about Jake renovating the Crandall House. Her reaction seemed genuine to Kit.

  “Why would he buy that huge old house?”

  “That’s what I wanted to know. Investment maybe? His boat’s here, too.”

  “Really. He didn’t say a word to me.” That was true. “But he’s been acting a little weird since he took off for Japan.”

  “Weird how?”

  “It’s like he finally buckled under the pressure of that whole year. He couldn’t stand the humiliation. He’s a proud man, Kit. Being a murder suspect just broke his spirit.”

  He’d said he’d needed to get away. She hadn’t realized how bad things were for him during that time right after Claire died. The man had always seemed so capable, so invincible. She thought back to last year and decided she should have done more, should have gotten in touch with him sooner than she had. Instead she’d kept her distance, thinking he needed some space, time to grieve for his dead wife.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That I should have been there for him sooner when he needed a friend.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Kit reached out and patted her aunt’s hand. “Look Glo, I hate to bring this up, but I don’t see any way around it. We have a funeral to plan. I know Alana bought a plot out at Whispering Oaks, but it looks like the details fall to you and me.” Then as delicately as she could, she told her about Alana’s will.

  “You think I’m upset because she didn’t leave anything to me. Well, I’m not. Put that right out of your mind. I don’t need Alana’s money, nor would I want it. But frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t leave everything to Jessica.”

  “Me too. Would you like the house? I have no use for it. I can’t even go back inside.”

  “Listen sweetie, put the house on the market, get the best price possible, and keep the money. Think of it as payment for the kind of childhood you had. Use one of those estate liquidators for the furnishings. They’ll take care of everything. You might want to think about keeping the baby grand, though.” Looking into Kit’s eyes, she added wistfully, “Your father would like that, don’t you think?”

  Kit nodded; even though she didn’t have room for the piano in her tiny house, the sentiment was there. Her father had given it to her for her eighth birthday. She smiled. “He paid for the piano lessons all those years. I’m pretty sure it was only to rankle Alana. Speaking of my father…”

  Gloria shifted into an emotional void, bracing for the question. Talking about John Griffin always put her into rage mode.

  “Glo, do you think he remarried, had other kids?”

  Gloria hadn’t been prepared for that. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

  “Jake pointed out he might have remarried, and had other kids I don’t know anything about.”

  Gloria took her time thinking. “No. No, I don’t know about that. It’s possible, isn’t it that he remarried? He spent a lot of time overseas. Why wouldn’t he? He could have had other children I suppose. Why are you dwelling on this, Kit? I know that the man should have taken you away from Alana when you were five...actually long before that. But he didn’t; he left you with her time and again. Don’t dwell on this. Move on. This is weighing on you and you need to put this behind you—you need to put him behind you, the sooner the better. Deal with Alana’s death and move on with your life. It isn’t fair, I know, but...you’ve got to come to terms with the past...with him for leaving you there especially after…”

  “But I can’t stop thinking about him, Glo. It’s as if I’m going through all of it again in my head, all my childhood memories are coming back to me. Not just what happened at twelve, but…everything.”

  “I don’t doubt that. But it won’t do any good to dwell on it. You’re thinking about all of this too much. Kit, the man was never around all that much. He stayed gone for months and months at a time, didn’t he? Think about that before you spend any more time on these walks down memory lane.”

  Surprised at Gloria’s coldness on the subject of her father, Kit groaned, “I don’t understand how you can be so callous about this. This is important to me. John Griffin was more like a father to me than Alana Stevens ever was a mother. At times he was all I had. He at least acted like a father when he was with me, whereas Alana didn’t even pretend to have maternal instincts. There were so many times over the years that he was there for me.”

  And times he wasn’t, thought Gloria. She took a deep breath, gentled her voice. “You say he acted more like a father, but yet he left you time and time again with Alana. If he truly cared for you, truly loved you, how is it he didn’t get you out of that situation? Perhaps the man was a better actor than we gave him credit for. You can’t know what went on between them. Animosity runs deep in contentious divorces. Stop torturing yourself. He never truly appreciated you, Kit, and from what I remember about the man, you were his greatest achievement.”

  Later, those words came back to Kit as she headed to Westlake Village. On the drive she tried to convince herself to put Alana and her father behind her for good. But it had always been a struggle. Now with Alana gone, it might be possible, although inheriting her business would be a problem. Surely, a smart guy like Jake could help her find a way to turn Alana’s business over to someone else. Not only did she know nothing about real estate, she’d spent years avoiding any type of corporate setting, including the one Jake had created for himself.

  Maybe it was time she did something about that.

  Sitting in traffic on the 101, she remembered the driven man he’d been at twenty-four, and knew even then she hadn’t fit in to that business side of him.

  She’d been around at startup, of course, but then so had Morty and Gloria. She might have been no more than a teenager, but she’d watched from the wings with proud fascination at Jake’s transformation from gifted programmer to software developer to CEO.

  She recalled all the times he’d talked and she’d listened. She hadn’t understood half of what he’d said. She’d been young, that was true, and as Alana had often reminded her, she hadn’t been particularly bright. But she’d listened to him, or tried to, as he’d outlined his dreams of taking his software company global.

  She’d been smitten; it was embarrassing to think about it now, but she’d watched as he lived and breathed software applications, marketing campaigns, and spreadsheets. If it were a little hero worship in the fact that he’d taken a program he’d developed from scratch and turned it into a multi-million dollar company, she could admit that now.

  She’d watched from the sidelines, always from the sidelines, as his world grew more successful each year and finally expanded to include C
laire, the woman he’d married. Claire had fit into his world perfectly. She’d been sophisticated and classy, an asset to any up-and-coming businessman’s agenda, the complete opposite of Kit both then and now.

  Thinking about the conversation with Gloria earlier, Kit was reminded that no matter how much he’d been on top of the world before Claire’s murder, Jake didn’t walk on water.

  In one night everything had come crashing down around him. She supposed she could have been a better friend during that time. But God how she’d hated the idea of approaching him when he’d been grieving for Claire.

  As she exited onto Westlake Boulevard, she wondered if he was finally over Claire, the love of his life. She hoped so for both of them. Because that kiss this morning had been one lip-lock worth following up on. The man knew what to do with that mouth.

  She pulled into the parking garage of a bank building, parked her Jeep on an upper floor, and took an elevator down to ground level. She walked through the bank lobby and took another elevator to the tenth floor.

  When she stepped out into an elegant, tastefully decorated reception area, it was obvious to her that she’d entered an upscale corporate world the complete opposite of the Book & Bean. She suddenly lost her nerve and regretted coming. She hadn’t dressed for a stuffy corporate setting, hadn’t even considered there might be a dress code involved or how everyone else might be attired until this moment. Wearing a short jean skirt with a white top and sandals, she felt self-conscious and considerably underdressed.

  She suddenly remembered Jake wore suits to work.

  It was at that moment she realized how good she had it working in her little world, in her little book shop in little backwater San Madrid where she never had to dress to please anyone but herself.

  It wasn’t too late to jump back on the elevator. Just as that thought slid into her head, an anorexic-looking petite redhead no older than twenty, who was stationed behind that elegant reception counter, popped her head from behind her computer and asked, “Can I help you?”