A Grave Mistake

by Stella Cameron

  Guy released her hand and rubbed her thigh, rumpling her thin green silk skirt. Jilly shuddered, just a little, and he sighed. “If I get to choose between makin’ love to you and talkin’, there won’t be a contest.”

  “We couldn’t do both?”

  “Depends on what we talk about. You’re avoidin’ the night you were with the Prestons. Why?”

  Because it’s over and it’s not important but you’ll go ballistic if I tell you. “Forget about that. I got so lucky in that graveyard. Things could have gotten bad.”

  “What was goin’ on when you first called me?”

  “Guy!” She leaned forward to look at his face. “You haven’t pushed me on this until now. Why today?”

  “You didn’t want to talk about it so I gave you some space.”

  “Thanks. Don’t you wonder why that woman rushed out of Rosebank this morning?”

  “You’re changing the subject. She left because she saw you.”

  “I didn’t need you to say that.” He was right but the experience had shocked her. “Charlotte said she’s a friend of Wazoo’s. I never saw her before.”

  “Know what?” Guy raised a brow. “I think Spike knew who she was but he’s bein’ bloody and keepin’ it to himself. That means he’s decided to get back at me by not sharing information.”

  “Spike isn’t like that.”

  “He was this mornin’.”

  “You can’t be sure of that. You two agreed to share information.”

  Guy smiled. “He decided he deserved at least a little dig. Charlotte was goin’ to tell us after the woman left but somethin’ made her stop. Bet it was friend Spike givin’ a signal.”

  “So who is she? I wonder,” Jilly said, almost entirely to herself. “She’s pretty in a way. Dramatic, but too thin.”

  “We’ll find out.”

  “She may not have run away from me. Why would she? I bet she remembered somethin’ important and wasn’t even thinkin’ about me.”

  He waggled his head. “I don’t think so. Why did you call me in New Orleans—when you said you had to leave the house?”

  “Ooh, Guy, you don’t know when to leave things alone.”

  He drove quietly for a few minutes. The day grew darker, and hotter. A band of purplish haze crushed down on the trees with a faint green fuzz coming right behind. They’d get a storm shortly.

  “I’m waiting,” Guy said.

  “Do you promise not to lose your temper?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not telling you anythin’,” she told him.

  “I won’t lose my temper.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “Jilly, I will not lose my temper. Unless you keep on stringin’ me along.”

  “I’m very afraid of you,” she said, smiling, but his face had turned hard. “I got a funny feelin’ there, okay?”

  He glanced at her quickly. “Not okay. Expand.”

  “That house doesn’t feel right. And I didn’t like bein’ around Mr. Preston. There, I’ve told you the truth, now drop it.”

  Guy drove his Pontiac onto a bumpy verge and under a stand of live oaks. Moss trailed onto the hood of the car and swished across the roof. “Aw, don’t do this,” she said. “Don’t grill me. I need to get to work.”

  “You will as soon as you explain what you just told me. Did that man touch you?”

  She would have to tiptoe around the truth. “I got ruffled because I was sittin’ with Edith while she fell asleep in her bedroom and I heard a car drive beside the house. I looked out. It was Preston and I think a woman had hidden herself in the back of his car—I know she had.”

  Releasing his seat belt, Guy sat sideways and pulled his right ankle onto his knee. “Go on.” He sounded tense—and amazed.

  “He realized she was there and pulled her out. He shook her, or kind of shook her, and walked off.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She left. It was dark so I couldn’t see much. Preston was rough with her.”

  “This was the woman you thought he might have sent the goon after,” Guy said.

  She’d had more time to go over everything. “I don’t have any proof of that. I don’t have any proof it was even the same woman.” But she couldn’t quite shake her original theory.

  “Do you still think Preston’s a nice man?” At least he didn’t sneer.

  “I don’t know what to think.” She didn’t want to say she considered her mother’s husband a perverted lecher. “I do think he cares about Edith.”

  “You’re not lookin’ at me. That’s not like you. Are you afraid I’ll figure out you’re lyin’?”

  He used a forefinger to brush back strands of her hair but she shrugged away. “I don’t lie.”

  “Not even by avoidin’ the truth?”

  “Let’s get back on the road, please.” The first fat drops of rain hit the windshield and the moss swung more wildly. “Guy, I mean it.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “If you confront him and use my name, the one who will suffer is Edith. I’d never forgive myself if that happened.”

  He took hold of her wrist and wouldn’t let go. “You’re loyal. You’re decent. What is it about Edith Preston that makes you want to waste your time on her?”

  Wind buffeted the car. Jilly breathed through her mouth to settle her jumping stomach. “Edith is my mother. She made a lot of mistakes but she’s not a strong person. I’m worried about her for a lot of reasons. You think someone tried to kill her.”

  “Not for sure.”

  She glared at him.

  “Okay, yes, I do. And I’ll be very careful not to make things hard for her.”

  “It was all nothing, anyway. He kissed my cheek when he came to take over from me with Edith. She’s still recoverin’. I turned the wrong way and he caught my mouth. I hated it and I overreacted. That’s all.”

  He shrugged. “The man’s a pig. I don’t want you near him. Is that why you held me as if I’d been gone a month when you saw me the next mornin’?”

  “It must have been,” she told him. “I didn’t know I had.”

  “Jilly—”

  “Okay, okay. But what I’m going to tell you should make you truly sorry for Edith.” Jilly hoped she was making a good call. “She isn’t surrounded by nice people. Preston has a way to watch people in the guest-room bathroom next to the room he shares with Edith. From their closet.”

  For far too long Guy blinked slowly, his eyes losing focus. Then the focus returned. “The guest room you used?”

  “Yes.”

  “Watch what? The shower? What?”

  “The whole room. He’s got some sort of lens in a painting. He’s just a sick man, Guy. Let it go, I intend to.”

  Guy’s breath whistled out through his teeth. “Did he watch you in the shower?”

  Oh, no, she’d been so afraid of this. “He may have.”

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  “Don’t talk like that.” Jilly put a hand on top of his and encountered cold, hard fingers. “If you feel anythin’, feel pity for him.”

  “Because he watched you naked? Oh, yeah, I really pity him.”

  She threw herself against the back of the seat and crossed her arms. “You are such a man. ”

  “Buckle up,” he said, his mouth a thin line. Then he turned on the engine again and returned to the road. “How did you find out?”

  Jilly gave herself time to think about what she said next. “Laura told me. I think it happened to her.”

  When he didn’t respond Jilly began to feel nervous. “Please, for me, leave it alone.”

  “Give me some credit. I won’t do anythin’ to hurt Edith.”

  He still quietly steamed when they got to Homer’s place. Ozaire gave them a thumbs-up and continued talking to several fishermen, making the kind of gestures fishermen made about the fish they didn’t catch.

  Jilly hopped out, pulled her seat forward and encouraged Goldilocks to join he
r. The dog hit the ground with the kind of joy that meant she remembered and liked her surroundings. She carried a small stuffed animal in her mouth and Jilly shook her head.

  “What?” Guy all but bellowed from the other side of the car. “So I got her a stuffed puppy to practice with. She’s never had pups, she needs to learn to be gentle.” He rammed on his hat.

  “Great idea,” Jilly said, holding up both hands in submission. She didn’t say she thought Goldilocks looked as if she was gaining weight too fast. Guy fed her too much.

  Although they’d driven out of the rain, the haze had gobbled up any hint of sun and Guy expected more of the wet stuff at any moment. The earth smelled damp. “Where’s Homer?” he called to Ozaire.

  That got him one of Ozaire’s knowing and infuriating grins. “You’re screwin’ up a good thing, boy. Reckon you’ve done it already. Homer’s in the shop.”

  Jilly scowled at Ozaire, who gave her his innocent look. Guy walked away without looking back and went into the shop to the right of the house across a yellowing lawn.

  “Homer?” Guy said, walking through the best convenience store he’d ever seen. If you wanted it, Homer probably had it. That included darn good sandwiches, cold drinks, beer and wine, cleaning supplies, home-repair supplies, a pair of men’s shorts or a baby bottle, a book—or bait. And if Homer should come up empty-handed on a request, he’d do his darnedest to put the shortcoming right in short order.

  Guy could see the older man’s salt-and-pepper buzz cut moving back and forth behind the counter. And Homer could hear a fish take the bait before a fisherman knew he had something on his hook, so it was fair to say he was ignoring Guy.

  “You mad at me, Homer?” He picked up a discarded washcloth from one of the tables provided for snack customers. “Hey, Homer, you got a problem?” The slap of sandals meant Jilly had come into the shop.

  “No problem,” Homer said. “You do good work.”

  That stopped Guy where he was. “Thanks. I like it here. Wanted to let you know I’ve got kinda caught up in Spike’s case and if it’s okay with you, I’ll make up time later in the day.”

  “No problem. Seems to work for both of us.”

  “Tell him to water the hanging pots,” Jilly said to Homer. “Those geraniums are goin’ to curl up their toes shortly.”

  Guy grinned at her. “I’ll do that, ma’am. I think we’re missin’ some bulbs in the fairy lights, too.”

  “I love this shop, Homer,” Jilly said, wandering the aisles. “Where else could you buy an electric pencil sharpener or a packet of ladyfingers?”

  “Nowhere, I guess,” Homer said, but he had softened up with Jilly’s arrival. “How about a strawberry smush? Wendy’s favorite and Vivian likes one now and then, too. Strawberry pudding made part with 7-Up. Goes pop in your mouth, or so I’m told.”

  Jilly accepted a parfait glass filled with the pink stuff and made approving noises while she ate.

  A kid came in. He wore double-wide jeans resting halfway down the crack in his butt and sported a snake tattoo around one skinny upper arm. “Chew,” he said, flipping back his black hair.

  Guy watched Homer assess him before sliding a pack of bubble gum across the counter. “On the house,” he said. “How about a sandwich?”

  The boy’s ears grew red and so did the back of his neck. He gave Jilly a sick smile, put a buck on the counter and slithered out, gum in hand—not quite the chew he had in mind.

  “You’re a good man, Homer Devol,” Jilly said.

  Guy thought so, too, but wasn’t about to say as much as long as Homer had a bee where it shouldn’t hang out.

  “Need me to move some crates or somethin’ before I go?” Guy asked, looking through a window. “There’s a bunch of stuff out there.”

  “That’s Ozaire’s.” Homer came around the counter and stood, feet braced, a few inches from Guy. “You gonna leave?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll be back later.”

  “Don’t fool around with me,” Homer said, swiping a hand across the bridge of his nose. “You know what I mean. Are you about ready to move on?”

  Guy couldn’t look at Jilly. He struggled with this question every day. He couldn’t see Jilly leaving Toussaint and living in New Orleans, not that he’d asked her. But living somewhere without her turned him cold and opened an aching place in his chest.

  “Are you?” Homer prompted.

  “I don’t know. I’m not planning on it.”

  Homer shifted his weight. “When will you know?”

  Guy almost felt a wall against his back. “When things work out the way they’re going to,” he said. “The way they’re supposed to.”

  26

  “Hey!” Lee O’Brien said. “I was hoping I’d run into you two. This is Simon Menard, my partner. He finally got to move here. Well, he’s found a place to live when he is here, anyway.”

  Jilly offered bespectacled Simon Menard a hand and he shook it firmly. She wondered what Guy was thinking. Lee, with her unexpected partner in tow, had erupted from the backyard at All Tarted Up to greet them when they got out of the car. A delivery truck, its nose poking into Parish Lane, filled Jilly’s parking space so Guy had pulled close to the wall outside.

  “I’m showing Simon around,” Lee said. “He got here yesterday and I showed him around the sheriff’s offices. I want him to meet everyone in town before he has to duck out on me again.”

  Simon Menard’s expression gave away nothing of what he might be thinking, but he went along with Lee pleasantly enough.

  “Why don’t you come on inside and have some coffee?” Jilly said. “I’m running behind with everythin’ so I’d better get to it.”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Lee said, glancing at Simon. “I’ve got a good nose and maybe I could help out with the big case.”

  Jilly braced for Guy’s reaction but none came.

  Simon’s smile transformed a serious face. The glitter in his dark eyes was wicked and his wide mouth turned distinctly up at the corners. “She does have a nose,” he said, his speech slow in a nice way. A quietly sexy man—the most dangerous kind. “Lee also has questionable timing. We’ll take you up on that coffee, then be on our way. I am glad to meet you.” Simon had spent enough time away from Louisiana to blunt his accent.

  “Of course he’s glad to meet you,” Lee said, all bubble and grin. “And I knew you’d like him. We’ve known each other for years—since I was in college. He was teaching in the journalism school, I was a student. He was very young to be teaching. Simon’s been an investigative reporter for years. ”

  “Does he have a nose, too?” Guy asked mildly.

  Lee scowled at him. “Okay, so I go on a bit sometimes.” She swallowed and said, “I would like to mention something. Simon thinks I should before I write about it, not that I’d name names, or anything like that. I’d probably pass it on to Lavinia for her column so it wouldn’t be anything more than innuendo.” She had the grace to smirk.

  Jilly decided she wouldn’t be getting inside as soon as she’d hoped.

  Simon put his hands in his pockets and wiped all expression from his face. At least he didn’t push Lee to do what he thought she should.

  “Let’s do this,” Guy said. “Wait till you decide if you’re going for public innuendo, then, if the answer’s yes, talk to me first.”

  “I think I’m going for it,” Lee said at once. “On two counts.”

  “Two?” Simon said. “What’s the other one?”

  “Jilly’s Beetle.” Lee pulled herself up very straight. “But that may be something she’d rather I left alone.”

  “What about my Beetle?” Jilly asked. “It’s not fixed yet. The body shop isn’t sure how long it’ll take.”

  Guy’s hand came down on the back of her neck and he gave a definite squeeze. Not that she knew what the signal meant.

  “I got this, this thing,” Lee said. “A thought, a little niggle like you’re not sure, but you might have a rock in you
r shoe. You know what I mean.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I knew you would.” Lee delved into the bottom of an oversize canvas tote and pulled out a notebook. She flipped through several pages, frowning and squinting as she read her own writing. “Yes, I think I’ll start with the car. I wasn’t actually there when you ran the stop sign, but I got to the scene quickly. One of my strengths is that—believe it or not—I can listen well. There were skid marks—I heard that, and saw ’em—but folks didn’t say anything about you slipping on something.”

  “The idea that she slid was only mentioned as a possibility,” Guy said.

  “It was that rock in my shoe,” Lee said. “I went on the Internet and looked around and I was right. The brake hoses need to be checked regularly.”

  Jilly shuffled her feet and waited for one of the men to say the obvious.

  “Any car’s brakes should be checked regularly,” Simon said mildly.

  “Yes, well, I decided it was worth special attention, just in case, so I called the shop. They said they hadn’t gotten to it yet and they sounded a bit peeved.”

  “You called and they talked to you about my car,” Jilly said, feeling irritable herself.

  “I said I was you.” Lee didn’t sound contrite. “Anyway, I went over there when the place was closed and found your green Beetle. I did some poking around myself. The Internet’s amazing, you know. You can get anything there. See this diagram of the brake system in your car?” She flapped a piece of paper in front of Jilly’s face and jabbed at it. “It wasn’t easy with this but I found what I was looking for. Whoever did it didn’t cut the hose, or anything. They just pinched it hard—like with a big wrench or something.”

  “You shouldn’t have been there at all,” Guy said. “If you felt you had something useful, Spike was the one to talk to—or anyone at the sheriff’s office.”

  Lee smiled sweetly. “They don’t talk to me there. D’you know what it says about those hoses? They’re in layers, and if they get damaged inside the fluid leaks through and it’s real dangerous. I don’t think Jilly’s accident was an accident. I think someone wanted her to get hurt badly.”

  “If the brakes had been tampered with,” Guy said, “the body shop would have contacted Spike as well as Jilly.” He should not have been too preoccupied to follow up on the car. Hell, what was the matter with him—he hadn’t even thought about the VW since the accident.