“Well, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” I said. Hopefully this would calm the waters, allowing Abby Lee to run the restaurant stress-free, without having to worry about Sheila or the courts getting in the way.
“So there’s no need to worry about me standing in the way.”
“Sure.” I wondered how long I had to stay here in her house. The faster I could leave, the better. There was a rule about accepting invitations, but I didn’t think there was one regarding length of stay. I should just politely thank her for the coffee and go. Somehow, I didn’t think she’d mind.
“How’s your coffee?” Sheila asked.
I took a sip of the lukewarm coffee and offered her a fake smile. “It’s great, thanks.” Sheila hadn’t even put out any cookies or pastries. Probably just as well. I doubted she even knew how to bake.
“It’s a special blend.”
Yeah, it’s called instant. “Oh, really?”
I was having a hard time focusing on Sheila. My head started to feel a little woozy. Maybe Sheila had added a little kick to the coffee, but it didn’t feel like the start of an alcoholic buzz.
“Did you put something in my drink?”
Sheila couldn’t have. Could she? As I pondered whether or not Sheila had roofied my drink, I must have nodded off.
The next thing I remembered was waking up tied to the armchair. How much time had passed?
“What the hell?” I muttered to myself, still in a haze from the drugs.
“You’re awake,” Sheila said.
“Why?”
It was all I could manage to say. Thinking too much hurt my head. What the hell did she put in that coffee?
“You were going to ruin everything!” Sheila cried out.
Not this again. I’d already had my fair share of psychos to last me a lifetime.
“What are you talking about?” I struggled to say. Whatever she gave me certainly packed a punch. I was still seeing two of Sheila.
“You were getting in the way.”
I was having trouble following her. Heather had already confessed to Harvey’s murder. Was Sheila involved somehow? I felt like I was stuck in a bad Lifetime movie. My mind was foggy from the drugs, and I tried to focus on the situation.
“What do you mean ‘ruin everything’? You said earlier you weren’t going to go after the restaurant anymore.”
Sheila sneered. “Do you really think I was going to let you two get in the way of my piece of the pie? It was bad enough trying to get rid of Harvey, but you two have become a major thorn in my side.”
“What do you mean ‘get rid of Harvey’? Heather confessed to killing him already.” What the hell was she talking about? We caught his killer, and she confessed. Case closed.
“I know exactly what happened to him,” she snapped. “I have to say, that girl did me a favor, but because of your meddling, I now have to tie up some loose ends.”
I was afraid to ask. “What loose ends?”
Sheila paced around the room. I had a feeling she hadn’t really thought things through, aside from luring me into a trap. What exactly did she plan on doing with me?
“Did you know I had plans to get rid of Harvey? Then, wouldn’t you know it? That insipid girl comes along and does the job for me,” she said. “Imagine my surprise when that old codger keeled over at your parents’ house.”
“But why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? For the restaurant, of course.”
My drug-induced haze was slowly lifting. I was beginning to understand.
“You thought you could cash in on The Poop Deck. Harvey wouldn’t sell, so you decided to kill him for it. Only you didn’t know he left it to Abby Lee,” I said. “You’d only seen the first will Harvey had drawn up. Only he changed it without you knowing.”
“I had no idea he was leaving it to that slut. I can only imagine what she had to do to get it.”
“Abby Lee isn’t like that. Harvey thought of her as a daughter.”
Sheila snorted. “It doesn’t matter now. The restaurant belongs to me. I earned it. Do you know what I had to go through? Living with that man? He was an old bore,” she said. “Don’t you think I deserved to get something for my troubles?”
“You didn’t have to marry him,” I said.
“You know what he told me when we first met? He said he owned a fabulous restaurant on an island just off the Texas coast. I couldn’t believe my luck. I thought to myself, now, here’s my chance to be the wife of someone so important. Then he brings me here to this dump of an island.”
What? Did she think she was marrying Wolfgang Puck? I was sure she’d had a rude awakening when she moved to Trouble.
“Then the magazine article came out. And you thought you’d finally capitalize,” I finished for her. The drugs were wearing off, and I was getting stronger by the minute. If I could keep her talking, maybe I could get out of this. “But Harvey didn’t want to sell.”
“You’re a smart girl. Too smart. Which is a problem.”
Where was she going with this?
“How? Technically you haven’t done anything.” Aside from possibly attempted murder and drugging me, I thought.
“True. But you have a knack for getting in the way. I can’t let anyone know I had plans to get rid of Harvey. Don’t think I don’t know you were snooping around my house when you and your aunt stopped by to drop off that casserole.”
Yeah, I needed to work on my stealth skills.
“That chicken dish was dreadful by the way,” she added. “Had to run to the bathroom every ten minutes. Anyway . . . what was I saying? Oh, yes. My little problem. What should I do? You seem like the best person to ask. Always sticking your nose in other people’s business.”
“I don’t understand. How would anyone even know? They already have Heather behind bars for killing Harvey. Why would they look at you?” The police weren’t going to reopen the case now that they already had their killer. As far as the police were concerned, Sheila was off the hook.
“Why?” Sheila mimicked. “Isn’t it obvious? What have I been talking about for the last ten minutes? For the restaurant, of course.”
Abby Lee! She had plans to take out Abby Lee!
“You’re going to kill her, aren’t you?”
“I hadn’t planned on it at first. When she was suspected of murdering Harvey, I just hoped they’d finally arrest her, so I could pull the restaurant from under her in civil court.”
“You ransacked the restaurant hoping to find the original will, hoping to gain leverage in court. But now that Abby Lee’s no longer a suspect, you still can’t claim it,” I said.
“A mere technicality I hope to rectify. Now that that other girl is in jail for killing my husband, I have to take care of Abby Lee,” she said with a smile. “And that’s why you have to go. I can’t have you running around pointing the finger at me. With both of you out of the picture, I can sell the damned place and get the hell out of this godforsaken island.”
Her cruise! I’d almost forgotten about her little shopping spree at Palmetto Pink. So that was the plan? Eliminate me and Abby Lee and set sail for the Bahamas. Nice.
“That day you came to the store to buy clothes for your cruise . . . you’re the one who cut off the lights at the store and locked me in there.”
She laughed. “I tried to give you a warning, but you just kept poking your nose where it didn’t belong.”
Call it stress from the last week, being abducted by a psychotic stalker and tied to a chair by a crazed widow, but I started laughing. “You’ll never get away with any of this,” I said, realizing how stupid I sounded the instant I said it. What was it with me and clichés?
It was Sheila’s turn to laugh. “Oh, but I will. The restaurant is mine. You think I like living here on this godforsaken island? That place is my ticket out.”
“So that’s your plan? Finish me off and kill Abby Lee and take the restaurant?”
Her eyes flickered. “Something like that. If she had just given me what was rightfully mine, it wouldn’t have had to come to that.”
“You won’t—”
“Get away with it?” she finished. “You said that already. And of course I will. I’ve gotten away with it so far.”
Sheila had me tied to the chair that faced the patio doors. I sensed movement from behind one of the palm trees that adorned her backyard. She was facing me, so she didn’t notice, but I could’ve sworn I saw someone moving out there.
“Yeah, but you’re forgetting one thing,” I told her.
“And what’s that?”
I smiled as I spotted Aunt Lula crouching closer to the glass doors. “I have a family that cares.”
Even though my aunt was as good a shot as any man, I ducked my head to my chest as the glass exploded all around us.
As happy as I was to see my aunt come to my rescue, I was relieved to see Justin trailing right behind her—she might be a tough old broad, but I couldn’t risk her getting hurt on my account. I could tell from his expression that having my aunt shoot through the sliding glass door wasn’t part of the rescue plan.
Justin restrained Sheila with handcuffs as Aunt Lula untied me from the chair. I never felt so happy to see anyone in my life.
Aunt Lula hugged me so hard I thought my face would be permanently imprinted into her chest. I caught a good whiff of her Coco Chanel.
“How’d you know I was in trouble?”
“Jackie called me. She lives a couple doors down from Sheila. Saw you entering the house, and when you never left, she got suspicious.”
Thank God for nosy neighbors.
“When Lula realized something was wrong, she called me immediately, and we decided to check it out,” Justin said.
Aunt Lula snorted in response. “He thought I was crazy to even suggest you were in any type of danger. The only reason he tagged along was to prove to me what silly old ladies we were.”
“Now that’s not how it happened, and you know it. And you,” he said, pointing his finger in my direction, “I told you that you were putting yourself at risk.”
“That was before we figured out who killed Harvey,” I reminded him. “How was I supposed to know Sheila was planning to kill Abby Lee for the restaurant? But it all turned out OK. You guys came at just the right time, and I’m still alive.”
“Jules—” Justin started to say.
“Leave the child alone,” Aunt Lula cut him off. “Hasn’t she been through enough?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
To make up for everything that happened the last few weeks, Aunt Lula said Abby Lee and I could pick anything we wanted from the store, her treat. It was like Christmas in July. We spent the entire afternoon trying on dresses and sipping champagne Aunt Lula had stashed in her back office. This was exactly how I’d planned to spend my vacation.
We were getting tipsy from the bubbly and twirling around, and I almost missed him. I caught his reflection in the dressing room mirror. He was standing near the opening of the dressing room with a bouquet of carnations and mums.
Hartley.
Abby Lee noticed, too. “I think I’ll go up front and have Lula show me the new collection,” she said, giving us some privacy.
“I’m sorry about my abrupt departure the other night,” Hartley said, handing me the flowers. “I guess you can say I was taken by surprise.”
“No apologies necessary.” After the way we’d left things that night at the restaurant, I hadn’t thought I’d ever see Hartley again. Granted I hardly knew him, but there was definitely a spark between us. A spark I wanted to explore.
“I made a few phone calls. The FBI, huh?” He still seemed befuddled at the notion that the woman he’d believed to be a retail salesclerk actually worked for the bureau.
I could feel my cheeks turning red. “It’s not like I’m an agent or anything. Strictly civilian,” I said, shrugging it off. It was not like my job was any less important, of course. Without crime analysts, agents would have a hell of a time staying on track. But I didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it.
“Could’ve fooled me. You caught Harvey’s killer. And the plot to kill Abby Lee. That’s something not even Trouble’s finest can say.”
“Well I didn’t exactly catch a murderer . . .”
No, Harvey’s killer cornered me with the intent to kill me—so did his widow. But I wasn’t going to say that out loud. I was happy to take whatever compliment he paid my way.
Hartley grinned at my poor attempt at being humble. “Close enough. The right person is behind bars, and that’s because of you. In fact, two people are behind bars because of you. You should be proud.”
My face had to be ten shades of red by now. “I’m just glad we can all get back to normal around here.”
“So,” he drawled, letting the last syllable drag just a second too long, stalling for what he was about to say next. “What are your plans now? Going back to Virginia? Or were those things you said that night part of your cover?”
“Like what?” I’d said a lot of things.
“About changing careers. You said that night at the bar you weren’t happy. Were you serious?”
“Oh right. Yeah, that part was true.”
“Does that mean you’re not going back?”
“No, I’ve got a little over a month’s vacation left before I go back.”
“Oh, I see.” I could tell he was disappointed.
“Oh—no! It’s not what you think. I’m going to close up my apartment and get my things.”
“You mean you’re moving back to the island?” There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You’re really thinking of leaving the feds?”
I wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision, but I had already e-mailed Weight Watcher Wendy my letter of resignation. I probably could have put in a request for a transfer and not quit entirely, but I wanted a fresh start. Once I returned to Virginia, I was going to spend the next two weeks organizing my case files and packing my belongings.
“I’m not sure if I was ever really happy there, you know? I think I was meant to do something else with my life.”
“Think you’ll have room for someone in this new life?”
I could daydream about Hartley all I wanted, but now that the question was out in the open, I hesitated. After my failed relationship with James—the reason I’d come back to Trouble Island in the first place—I wasn’t sure if I was ready to get involved in a new one. That and I still had unresolved issues with Justin. There was certainly some residual chemistry between us. Was it worth going down that path again, or should I start with a clean slate with someone like Hartley?
In the end, we agreed I’d call him the second I returned to Trouble.
“You still have over a month of vacation time left. What will you do with your time?” Aunt Lula asked over chilled ceviche and cold beer. Did I mention ceviche was the only thing she knew how to make, aside from her dreaded King Ranch casserole?
“I don’t know. Spend it outdoors? Take some shooting lessons from a pro like you? Work on my tan?”
My aunt gave me the once-over. “Yes, a little bit of sunshine is just what you need after all that time you spent cooped up at that job of yours.”
Thinking about my drab cubicle at the bureau made me shudder. I was relieved I didn’t have to go back to work under the supervision of Weight Watcher Wendy. After I turned in my resignation, I felt like the weight of the world was off my shoulders. I began to really consider all the other opportunities I had in front of me.
“I think I want to go back to school,” I blurted. Ever since I met Hartley, I’d been thinking about pursuing another career. There was something about him that made me think about
the future and want to make the best out of it.
“And study what, dear?” Aunt Lula asked, genuinely interested. She’d always been the one to encourage my education. “You already have a graduate degree.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I can finish up the credits I need to get my PhD, or I could go to law school,” I said.
“Does that mean you’re moving back here permanently?” Aunt Lula asked, hopeful. Houston was home to several universities, and commuting from the island to the city wasn’t nearly as bad as my daily commute in Virginia.
“I guess it does.”
All my life I’d tried to escape the sleepy little island town in favor of the big city. It never occurred to me that the island needed me as much as I needed it.
“Even if I don’t decide to go back to school right away, I think I belong here.”
A big smile spread over my aunt’s face. “Then it’s all settled. You know that condo I rent out? You can live there while you decide on whatever it is you want to do.”
I was momentarily speechless. Aunt Lula had a beachfront condo she’d inherited from Uncle Jep. She rented it out to families during the summer season to cover the real estate taxes.
It was a generous offer, but I reluctantly had to decline. “Thanks for the offer, Aunt Lula, but I won’t be able to pay rent without a job. I have a little bit of savings, but not enough to last me through winter. I’ll just stay at home until I find something.”
I cringed at the thought of living with my folks, but I had to save some money before I could afford a nice-enough place. Plus, if I was going to go back to school, I needed to figure out how I was going to pay tuition.
“Nonsense. You’re a grown woman. The last thing you need is to live under your parents’ roof. Especially with your mother around. You’ll stay at the condo rent-free.”
“I couldn’t do that,” I said. Though the idea was appealing.
“Why not? You need a place to live, and I have a place to offer,” she insisted. “Well?”
Destined for Trouble (A Jules Cannon Mystery Book 1) Page 20