I crossed the room to the snack wagon and gave the assorted breads, coffee, and fresh fruit one last inspection. The cart complained with a loud creak as I pushed it through the door and into the hall.
At the entry to the reception room, I heaved the front wheels over the floor molding, and they hit the wood planks with a thud. A basket somersaulted to the floor, tea bags skittering in every direction like hockey pucks. I dropped to my knees, wincing as a painful reminder of yesterday’s accident shot through my chest.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself quite a load there.” Gerald Claypool bent at his rounded waist, his coat sleeves pulling at the shoulder seams. He snagged a packet of green tea from under an end table.
“Thank you, Mr. Claypool, but I can manage.”
“Nonsense.” He huffed a breath then knelt to pick up a Lemon Zest. “Gerald. Please call me Gerald.”
“Okay.” I stood and tucked my handful of teas into the basket. Across the area, the conference room door remained closed. “Has the board’s break already begun?”
“I had to, um, see a man about a horse.” He rested a pudgy hand on his knee and pushed himself up.
Whoa. That was more information than I needed to know. What was I supposed to say to that? Nothing. I managed a smile. “Gives you first dibs. Help yourself.”
He huffed a few more times then stabbed a plastic knife into the maple-flavored cream cheese. It didn’t take a Mensa membership to realize this man had no place on the suspect list.
I straightened the tea bags. “I suppose everyone has heard the big news.”
He applied spread to his bagel. “About Ramón being murdered? Awful. Just awful. I had no idea they suspected murder.”
“There were rumors, but I never believed them. Boy, was I wrong.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Marc mentioned you two are involved with the investigation. How so?”
“A conversation I overheard the day before Ramón died. We’ve got several suspects in mind.” Did crossing my fingers behind my back really absolve me from lying? But what if one’s hands were full? Did mentally crossing one’s fingers count? What if the lie was for the greater good? I’d have to talk to God about that later.
His gray brows lifted. “Isn’t it a little irregular for civilians to be involved in a police matter?”
I shrugged. “Maybe in a large city, but it makes sense. We’re right here where it happened. Know the people. We think the lower level of the boathouse is involved. It’s been locked up and unused for years. We intend to keep a tight eye on it tonight.”
“A tight eye?”
“I think it’s called a stakeout,” I whispered. He didn’t seem to buy the story. Was it too out there? Marc insisted it would work. It had to or he’d soon be wearing a number on his back.
“Sounds dangerous.”
“We’ll be fine. It’s kinda exciting.” I smiled as sweetly as I could. “Who’d have thought that old boathouse might give us the answer?”
“Isn’t the key to the boathouse missing?” Kendall approached the cart.
I swooped up a muffin and dropped it on a paper saucer along with a scoop of honey butter, his usual choice. Tucking a checked paper napkin under the plate, I handed it to him. “Mark found the key in Ramón’s desk.”
Kendall waved off the food. “Thanks, but I have an alumni banquet tonight in Madison. Should watch the old waistline.” He patted his trim stomach. “Gotta support the old alma mater, you know.” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “What were you saying about the boathouse?”
I lowered my voice. “We think it’s connected to Ramón’s murder, and we plan to stake it out tonight.”
Kendall filled a cup with decaf. “You and your aunt?”
“Marc and me. Didn’t he tell you in the meeting?”
“I had to step out.” He tore open a packet of sweetener then shook the granules into his brew. He sipped his coffee before giving me a stern look, then whispered, “You two haven’t forgotten what I said before about office relationships have you?”
I mentally crossed my fingers for the second time. “Of course not. This is strictly office business. The sooner we can expose the killer, the better it is for Rescaté and the kids.”
He stared into his coffee cup and swirled the dark brew with a circular motion. “Have you any idea who the police’s person of interest is?”
My heart celebrated. The chief hadn’t blabbed to Kendall, but how could I not answer and still tell the truth? The old saying, “Oh what a tangled web we weave when we endeavor to deceive,” ran through my mind. “I’m not certain, but—.”
The conference room door opened, and the rest of the board, along with Marc, streamed into the reception area. Kendall waved them over.
As the hungry men attacked the cart, I scanned the group, finding it difficult to imagine any one of them a murderer. Marc motioned me to a far corner with a cock of his head.
I scooted over.
“Everyone’s concerned about Rescaté’s reputation,” he whispered. “I let them know that was our concern as well, and we hope to have answers after tonight. I told them I couldn’t say more than that the boathouse is involved because we don’t want to jeopardize the case.”
I brought my mouth to his ear as he leaned down. “I mentioned the boathouse key to Kendall, not realizing he didn’t know about it.”
“He got a call on his cell and left before I explained.”
I inhaled the scent of his aftershave, wishing I could stay right there and enjoy the atmosphere, but I stepped back and hurried over to the cart.
When I arrived at my next stop fifteen minutes later, it was all I could do not to gape at Candy’s to-the-knee skirt and suit jacket, a white button-down blouse underneath. Even stylish closed-toe pumps covered her feet. I glanced around, half expecting to see a television crew from one of those make-over reality shows crowing over their handiwork.
“Some news, huh?”
Candy looked up from examining the offerings.
“News?”
“Yeah, in yesterday’s Chronicle.”
“All the Chron reports is who got traffic tickets and which kid was in a piano recital this week.” She dunked a teabag into the hot water she poured. “As for the big city papers, if the news isn’t bad, it’s boring. Like I care if the Dow is up or down. I read People magazine every week though. What news you talking about?”
“The police announced that Ramón was poisoned.”
Her eyes rounded. “As in someone knocked him off?”
“I guess you could put it that way.”
“Man. As much as I hated that jerk, I couldn’t imagine puttin’ out his lights like that. It creeps me out to think a murderer is on the loose.”
“Me, too. That’s why Marc and I plan to keep an eye on the boathouse. We think the old building is connected, and something big is going to happen there tonight.”
She tilted her head and winked. “Karl told me about you and Marc finally getting together. I say you go, girl.” She held up a palm.
I gave her a half-hearted high-five slap. “We’re trying to low-key our status around the office, if you get my drift. We’re merely old college friends who’ve gone on a couple dates.”
“You expect me to believe that and I’ll tell you I’m dating Karl Murray. He’s a little young for me, but a girl can dream. I’d love to date a cowboy.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve got a job interview later. Do you think the bosses will figure it out?”
I pushed the unreal image of Candy and Karl as a couple out of my mind and gave her a once-over. “You look nice.”
She laughed. “I feel like a librarian in this interview suit. But if I land the job, I can stop borrowing money from Brett to pay for health insurance.”
I kept my face as expressionless as possible. “That’s really nice of him to loan you money.”
A huge grin filled out her face. “Brett’s the best.”
“You two been dating long?”
> “We usually meet at the Apple then head to his place for a while before I have to get home to Mom.” She winked. “He’s quite a guy.”
Didn’t she know she was looking for love in all the wrong places? She and I would have to have a good talk once this was all over.
I got out of there before she asked any more questions about Marc.
As soon as I stepped into Karl’s workspace my eyes went to the empty birdcage stand. I hadn’t given Pedro more than a passing thought for days. A wave of guilt washed over me. Annoying as he was, I missed his antics. Was it too much to hope he was still alive?
Karl let out a whistle. “Sure don’t look like you’ve been in a head-on. You okay?”
I tossed him a cheerful smile. “Glad to see that the Rescaté rumor mill hasn’t lost its steam. It was a rear-ender and other than a left-hook from the airbag, I’m okay. Can you believe I managed to run into a stolen vintage Corvette?”
He blew another low whistle through his teeth and sauntered my way. I looked him over while he studied the cart. Although a little short, he wasn’t a bad catch for someone. But Candy?
As usual, he selected a plain bagel and plain cream cheese. I’d have to work on expanding the cowboy’s palate. While he ate, I told him about the guy I ran into having a license tag that said “Lucky.”
We had a good laugh, then Karl dropped his voice to an almost whisper. “Not Marc’s lucky day. I heard the news. I hope we can zero in on the real killer or else Marc better be lawyered up.”
I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the open door. “I’m trying to get the word out to everyone that Marc and I plan a stakeout on the boathouse tonight. We need your help.”
His eyes filled with apprehension. “Do you want me to come too? That sounds risky.”
The guy had no fear getting on a two-ton angry animal’s back, yet quivered at the thought of staking out a building in hopes the bad guy would show up. Crazy. “We think it’s better we watch the boathouse alone, but we’re wondering if you could be our point person here in the mansion. When the killer shows up, we’ll call your cell, and you can notify the police. Maybe if the call comes from you, they’ll pay attention.”
“Just tell me what time.” He selected an apple juice and drained the bottle in one long draw, then bent to inspect a corner of the cart. “You have a loose screw. I’ll fix it for ya.”
I grinned as I drew out my pocketknife and popped out the tiny screwdriver. I made two quick turns. “All done.”
“You’re gonna put me out of a job with that gadget.”
I dropped the knife into my pocket. “I can’t fix a toilet or build a cabinet with this thing. You’re safe.”
We set the time for the stakeout, then I headed off to refill the coffee urn.
Back on my rounds, Rosa and Helen ambushed me like a couple of clucking mother hens. They’d heard I was in a car crash and in the hospital with multiple injuries. I assured them I was fine. Of course, they also asked if it was true about Marc and me being a couple. “I knew from the way you look at each other,” Rosa gushed. “I love that you are together. But we wonder one thing.”
I was almost afraid to ask. “What’s that?”
“When you marry Marc you won’t be April Love anymore, unless you are like Mexican women and keep your name. We love your name.”
Good grief. What was next on the grapevine? Would they have Marc and me eloping? If Kendall got wind of all this, neither of us would have a job, and we wouldn’t be able to clear Marc’s name before he could give it to me. The old Elvis tune Jailhouse Rock floated into my thoughts.
I gave a dismissive wave. “You know the way stories get around. We’re old friends from college. Best not to talk about it. Rules against office romances and all. Speaking of stories, did you see the one in the Chronicle about Ramón being murdered?”
“I been scared ever since I heard,” Rosa’s eyes darted toward the open door. “Is it even safe to work here?”
Helen gave her friend a sympathetic look. “I hardly think the bad guy would still be around. Not with the police looking for him.” She turned her attention to me. “Isn’t that right, April?”
“Marc and I think it’s possible the killer might be keeping tabs on things.” I beckoned them closer and kept my voice low. “We think the boathouse may be his or her center of operation. We’re keeping a tight eye on it.”
“His or her?” Rosa’s eyebrows shot up. “You think a lady kill him?”
“Why not? He had enough women mad at him,” Helen said.
Rosa fanned herself with her hand. “This is terrible.”
If I didn’t get them focused on something else, I’d have to run for smelling salts. I gestured toward the cart. “Nothing like a fresh-baked muffin to calm your nerves.”
After they’d selected their treats, I moved on. At every stop after that, thankfully Ramón’s murder was the hot topic and not Marc and me. I added fuel to the chatter by dropping hints about Marc’s and my plan to watch the boathouse. By the time I rolled my cart in front of Taryn’s desk, she was telling me the news.
Back from the cart run, I popped a pair of muffins into the microwave then started a fresh pot of coffee. Marc wandered in and sniffed. “Smells like I’m just in time.”
I scrunched my nose. “You’ve already had a muffin.”
“But who can eat only one of anything you make?” He nudged the door shut with his elbow and pulled me into his arms. “Did you get the word out?”
I wiggled out of his embrace. “Tongues are wagging, and not only about murder. Remember how Karl walked in on us the other day?”
He pulled a face, but put some distance between us.
“Karl agreed to be the point man.” I glanced at the espresso machine. “Have time for a cup of heavy-duty?”
“The board is reconvening. I’ll have to take it with me.”
Sudden regret washed over me. Despite our breaking the no-office-romance rule, I still had a job to do. “I’m sorry, Marc. It never dawned on me you may have wanted lunch prepared.”
“I didn’t think of it either, so we’re going out.” Unease filled his dark eyes. “Besides, I want you safe at home with Kitty until we make our next move. You have the afternoon off.”
The concern in his voice warmed me to my toes. “The insurance man is coming to look at my car in an hour. I’ll stay put.”
He tugged me back into his arms, squeezing me so tight I could barely breathe. “I’m having second thoughts about involving you. Maybe I should ask Karl to do the stakeout with me.”
I stared at him. “Not on your life. I intend to be there with you right to the end.”
His jaw twitched. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Chapter 45
I pushed a couple of juniper bush branches apart and peered at the boathouse door’s unhinged rusty padlock. Regardless of the fading light, I had a perfect view. I ran my gaze along the shoreline—what I could see of it in the deepening twilight.
Now that I was there, not waiting for Marc seemed foolish. But, I’d about gone stir crazy in the house, not able to discuss our plans with Kitty. If she knew, the woman would be sitting here beside me right now. It was crazy enough for me to do this. If anything happened to her because of my boldness, I’d never forgive myself.
But wasn’t I basically doing the same thing to Marc? Several times he’d expressed regret at involving me in his idea. If only I could have a do-over. Pain filled my throat and I swallowed against it. I’d apologize to Marc later. Right now I had to be in the moment and alert. What I could do was let Marc know my whereabouts.
I pulled out my cell and when his name appeared on my screen I tapped on it.
“I’m almost there. Stay home until I call you.”
“I’m already on site.”
The connection went silent. “I wish you’d go back to Kitty’s. I’m still a good five or six minutes away.”
A soft flutter erupted in my stomach and I momentarily cl
osed my eyes to savor the realization that the old Marc would have ordered me away like an army general. Oh how I loved this new version.
“April? You still there?”
My eyes popped open. Being in love again was not a good state of mind for staking out a killer. I lowered my voice to a bare whisper. “Yes. I’m here. I’m armed with my pocketknife. Karl’s in the mansion on speed dial. I’m okay.”
“Stay down. I’ve got another call. Back at you in a sec.”
I slipped the phone into my pocket. Stillness enveloped me and the bush, giving me a sense of safety. As much as I tried to stay focused on the boathouse, thoughts about Marc crept in. Amazed at how quickly our lives had come back together, it was becoming clear that God had used those eight years apart to mold us into the people we’d become. People better able to commit to each other without coming to loggerheads.
Now, we needed for this mess to be over so we could move forward. I couldn’t imagine life without Marc, and I didn’t intend to spend it visiting him in prison.
Several minutes passed.
I glanced at the inky sky, then at my phone to check the time. Marc should have arrived by now. Maybe he was in the parking lot finishing up that call. I slid the device into my jeans pocket as twilight slipped into darkness. I yawned and reached for the thermos I’d brought. Didn’t expect to hit the caffeine this early.
Running footfalls pounded on the path behind me. Wasn’t that like Marc, racing to get here so I wouldn’t be alone?
Something hard smashed into my head.
Light flashes zigzagged through my brain and then there was nothing.
Chapter 46
I tried to open my eyes, but my lids felt like ten-pound weights. Not to mention the monster headache slicing through my brain. I struggled to sit up. My limbs wouldn’t move. I forced an eye open, then the other one. White nylon rope looped around my wrists and ankles in a tight figure-eight binding, finished off with perfect sheet-bend knots—the kind I learned in sailing school years ago. I struggled to connect the dots but some numbers were missing.
Thyme for Love (Cooking Up Trouble Book 1) Page 22