by Curry, Edna
“What do you mean? You have to help me, Lacey.”
I chewed my bottom lip and hesitated, then said, “I usually don’t do murder cases. If he really suspects you, you need a criminal lawyer to represent you and advise you.”
“Oh, I know, and I’ll get one if he arrests me. But I need you to help me find out what really happened. Please! Just find out the truth, Lacey. That’s all I ask of you.”
But I’m not getting it from you, I wanted to say, but she’d begun weeping again and hidden her face in her hands. “All right, I’ll do my best,” I heard myself say.
She raised her head and managed a tiny smile. “Thanks, Lacey. I’ll call you when I have more news. You have my cell number.” She rose, gave me another tremulous smile and left.
With a sigh, I followed her up the stairs, locked the door behind her, and went to find Paul. He wasn’t going to like this. I have too many protective men in my life and it pisses me off sometimes. Why can’t they trust me to have enough common sense to look out for myself? I’m not a baby.
Paul was in the kitchen, making cocoa in the microwave. It dinged and he pulled out the two mugs and set one on the table in front of me, then sat opposite me and demanded, “So what’s new?”
I sipped the cocoa and met his gaze. No sense trying to fool him. So I just blurted it out. “Agnes was murdered.”
His jaw dropped and he repeated, “Murdered? I thought she drove into the lake and drowned?”
“She did. But apparently someone caused her to do that by shooting out one of her front tires so she’d lose control of her car.”
“Yikes. We live too damn close to the cities. All that violence is spilling out to the bedroom towns.”
I grimaced. “Now, Paul, we don’t know that this has anything to do with being close to the Twin Cities.”
“Maybe not. But I’m glad you’re done with this case anyway.”
Uh, oh. He’d jumped to that conclusion, too? “What do you mean?” I eyed him over the rim of my mug, trying to remain calm, though my stomach was jumping. I wanted to make love with my hunk, not get into an argument. We didn’t have enough time together as it was. Scamp seemed to sense the tension and got up to rub against my leg. I patted his head and he lay back down, eyeing us.
“Patti hired you to find Agnes. And she’s found, right?”
“Well, yeah, but…”
“Lacey! You didn’t?”
I squirmed in my chair and rose. I carefully placed my empty mug in the dishwasher and then turned back to face him. “She says Ben is treating her like a suspect already, just because she wanted to file a missing person’s report Monday morning. She wants me to find out the truth of what happened. She’s afraid Ben won’t look for any other suspects.”
He groaned. “Murder cases are dangerous. Remember? You agreed after the last one to try to avoid them.”
“I did try to avoid this one. But I’d already taken her money and did very little to earn it. I’ll be careful, Paul, truly I will. But you know I have to run my business as I see fit.”
“Yes, but…”
“I don’t interfere in how you run your trucking business, do I? Or object when you drive on icy mountain roads which scare me half to death?”
He sighed and rose to put his mug in the dishwasher beside mine. I closed the door and leaned against the counter. Paul wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, then smoothed the hair back from my face. “You’re right. I have no call to interfere. But I can’t help worrying. Please be careful, okay?”
I kissed him back. “I’ll do my best, Paul.” More kisses led to fondling until we both were hot with need.
“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Paul said. “I’m sorry, Lacey, but I have to leave about five in the morning. I’ll skip breakfast and get some down the road, okay?”
“So early?” I asked with a long sigh. I hate the hours he keeps, but then, mine aren’t always ideal either, especially if I’m doing a stakeout.
When Scamp rose to follow us upstairs to my bedroom, Paul turned and shook his head. He pointed to my office where Scamp had a bed. “Downstairs, Scamp.”
I laughed at the sad look Scamp gave him before he obeyed.
“He likes sleeping on the rug beside my bed. He’s not happy with you.”
“Maybe not. But he knows the rules. He has to sleep downstairs when I’m here. I don’t want an audience to my lovemaking.”
Nodding, I watched Scamp go downstairs, obeying Paul’s command.
We turned and headed upstairs.
***
Paul followed Lacey upstairs, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. Her admission that she was staying involved in another murder case had tied his insides into knots. He hated that she might get herself into danger when he wasn’t around to help her out. But he had to admit she had a point. She didn’t like some things about his job, either, but she allowed him freedom to make his own choices.
She was an independent, feisty gal and he loved her for it. But that quality scared him to death as well. If only he didn’t have to be back on the road early in the morning…but he did. His business wouldn’t run itself. Maybe someday it would be large enough that he could stay home and run it from his office. But he was a long way from doing that yet.
When he reached the bedroom, Lacey had already unzipped that gorgeous, long dress. He swallowed a gasp as she stepped out of her high heels and leaned forward to push down her panty hose. Blood rushed through his veins and his loins tightened.
With a couple of quick steps, he swooped in and toppled her onto their queen-sized bed, then grabbed the panty hose and finished removing them. She giggled as he pushed the silky dress out of the way and kissed her bare thighs, then her tummy.
“Paul, please,” she shrieked. “This is a new dress and it cost a fortune. Let me take it off before you ruin it.”
“Okay,” he said, laughing. He knew Lacey seldom splurged on nice clothes, preferring casual ones, so he helped her to her feet, then carefully pulled the dress over her head and draped it over a chair. That left only her bra covering her full breasts. He unhooked the bra and threw it at the chair, then lowered his head to kiss her nipples. Taking each one in turn, he teased and suckled them, holding her in place as she tried to squirm away.
When he finally raised his head to kiss her lips, she relaxed enough to help him finish undressing as well. She unzipped his pants, rubbing his erection through his shorts, then pushed them down.
He kicked off his shoes and allowed her to finish taking off the rest, then they were on each other in the bed, kissing and hugging, desperate to make up for the days they’d been apart. He relished in the smell and taste of her skin as he nibbled and suckled every inch of her. Her nipples hardened under his lips and she moaned as he tasted and suckled them. He never seemed to get enough of her. Nor apparently, did she. She reached down and stroked him, sending his blood racing through his veins.
Phone calls between them were never enough. He needed to hold her in his arms, feel her heat surrounding him as he slipped inside her and began the race toward their mutual completion.
She ran her hands all over him as he pounded into her, sending his nerves tingling. She always made his heart pound and his body throb with pleasure. As she wrapped her legs around him and met him thrust for thrust, he fought to keep from climaxing before she did.
Then she throbbed around him and he groaned his release in response, hot waves of ecstasy rolling over him.
At last he relaxed and rolled to her side and cuddled her against him. He loved her so much. Long lonely nights sleeping in his rig at a rest stop faded away and became unimportant. He was home.
Chapter 5
Rolly Billings took his father home after the Chamber of Commerce dinner. They’d left shortly after Lacey and Paul. No one expected an old man to stay late at these things.
He lived with his father in the big brick rambler he and his father had built when they’d returned to practice in Landers. Now that they
were home, Rolly turned his father over to their live-in caretaker, Geoffrey, a sturdy male nurse who had infinite patience.
“How did it go tonight?” Geoffrey asked as they tucked him into bed.
“Pretty good, considering,” Rolly answered. “He spilled his water and made a couple of odd remarks, but no one seemed to mind or pay much attention.”
“That’s great. It’s good for him to get out of the house occasionally.”
“I know.” Rolly glanced at his now sleeping father with a sigh. “I hate to think of the day when he’ll have to move to a nursing home.”
“Oh, we’re not at that stage, yet. Let’s just take it one day at a time.”
“Yes. Thanks for your help. I couldn’t keep him at home without you.”
“You’re welcome. Good night, Rolly.”
Geoffrey checked to see that the baby monitor was turned on, then crossed the hall to his own room.
Through his open door, Rolly saw him seated at his computer, surfing the internet. Pleased satisfaction warmed him at the sight. He was so lucky to find a live-in nurse who was content to spend time alone and stay with his patient around the clock. If the internet kept Geoffrey happy in that boring job, so be it. He paid the fees for unlimited service for himself anyway. It didn’t cost him anything extra to let Geoffrey use it, too.
Rolly went back to the family room and poured himself a tumbler of scotch. He sat on the brown leather sofa facing the fireplace and sipped the liquor.
Tonight he’d learned from that chubby, irritating journalist, Joyce, that Patti Jones had hired the local lady PI to figure out what had happened to Agnes. He’d dated Patti a bit when she used to come for weekends with Agnes. Maybe he could renew that connection and find out what was happening. Joyce claimed Patti had talked to the sheriff, so she’d know some details.
This wasn’t that big a town. If Sheriff Ben had Agnes’ house cordoned off with crime scene tape, Patti most likely was staying at one of the motels. Not much choice in this little burg.
He picked up the phone book, looked up the numbers and asked to speak to Patti Jones. He got connected at the second place he tried.
After a little catching up talk, he convinced Patti to meet him downtown for a drink.
He drove down to the bar, scored a booth in a far corner where they could talk privately, and then sat with his back to the wall, watching for her to arrive.
Soon she did, her long blonde hair making her stand out in the dim room. He waved her over and gave her a quick ‘welcome back to town’ hug. Her face was blotchy and her eyes puffy from crying, though she’d tried to cover it with heavy make-up.
“I’m sorry to hear about Agnes,” he told her. “Everyone at the Chamber meeting tonight was shocked. She was well liked in our little town.”
Patti nodded. “Thanks. I still can’t believe she’s gone. It’s just so bizarre. One day we’re planning a shopping trip and dinner out together and then…” She gulped and swallowed, then dabbed her eyes again.
Rolly reached out a sympathetic hand and patted hers. “I know.” The waitress came and took their orders. Rolly ordered more scotch and Patti ordered a glass of white wine.
“Were you still her lawyer?” Patti asked. “I mean, I know her dad and your dad were partners years ago.”
He hesitated, then said, “Yes, we still handled her legal affairs. Not that she had much lately. I mean, other than overseeing a couple of financial trusts for her and writing her will.”
“Oh, so you have her will at your office? I think the sheriff wants to see it.”
“Really? Whatever for?”
Patti shrugged. “To help him decide who’s guilty, I guess. See who she left money to.”
Their drinks arrived and they were silent until the waitress was out of earshot again.
Then Rolly raised an eyebrow. “I don’t get it. Guilty of what?”
“Causing her to go into the lake.”
Rolly blanched. “What? How could someone cause her to go into the lake?”
Again, Patti shrugged. “He’s not saying. But he definitely treated me like a suspect.”
“Oh, for Cripes sakes. So that’s why you were talking to the Lady PI?”
Patti nodded. “When I first saw her, I just wanted to find Agnes. Now I need to find out what really happened to her. I know I didn’t kill her, so I need the PI to find out who did.”
“But surely it was an accident?”
“Sheriff Ben doesn’t think so.”
“Why not?”
Patti sipped her wine and wiped another tear from her eyes. “I don’t know. But I’m sure he must have a good reason.”
Rolly downed his scotch with one big gulp, then signaled the waiter for another. After a moment of silence, he suggested, “I’ve heard that the sheriff doesn’t like having private investigators snooping in his cases. Maybe he’s riled at you because you hired the Lady PI?
Patti raised an eyebrow, regarding him curiously. “I sure didn’t get that impression.”
Rolly lifted a shoulder. “I could be wrong, of course. But I think you’d be better off firing the PI and letting the sheriff handle it.”
Patti shook her head. “No, Rolly, I don’t trust the sheriff. He wouldn’t even let me file a missing person’s report on Agnes when I couldn’t find her. I need Lacey.”
Rolly shrugged and grabbed the scotch the waiter brought. “Suit yourself.”
***
When I awoke the next morning, Scamp lay on the rug beside my bed. I turned my head to verify that Paul’s pillow was empty. Of course, he’d said he had to leave early, so he’d probably let Scamp out for his run and left our bedroom door open so Scamp could come upstairs.
He lifted his golden furry head and seemed to smile at me.
I reached out and patted him, then swung my legs out of bed and headed for the shower. I’d better have a decent breakfast because I had to obey the Sheriff and go to his office to talk to him this morning. I wasn’t looking forward to that.
An hour later, I sat across from Ben, a Styrofoam cup of the thick hot brew that passed for coffee when Ben made it in my hand. For once he wasn’t leaning back in his chair with a cup of coffee in his hand as well.
He sat up straight, asking blunt questions and typing my answers into the form on his computer. Not a good sign. I much preferred the friendly uncle version of Ben.
With a sigh, I answered again, “Ben, I already told you. I’d never been inside Agnes’ house before Patti asked me to accompany her on Monday.”
“Had she been there before you went together? This past weekend, I mean?”
“Yes, she said she stopped to see if Agnes was there before she went to your office that morning.” I couldn’t resist adding, “If you had promised her to investigate why Agnes appeared to be missing, she’d never have come to me at all.”
He looked up and glared at me, his bony face rigid. “Don’t get sassy, Lacey, girl.”
I thought better of replying, and he continued, “So what did you two do inside Agnes’ house?”
I frowned, trying to remember. “We walked through the rooms, making sure she wasn’t there. We called her name and opened closed bedroom and bathroom doors.”
“Did you touch anything? Or did you wear gloves?”
I gaped at him, my pulse speeding up at the unexpected question. “Of course I didn’t wear gloves. Ben, I thought I was just helping a client find a missing aunt. I didn’t expect it to be a crime scene. Besides that, why do you call her house a crime scene when she died in her car?”
He ignored my question and instead asked, “So, we’ll find your fingerprints in her house?”
I sighed and nodded. “Yes, you will. When we didn’t find her, Patti started looking for her car’s license number in her file cabinet.”
Ben glanced up at her and frowned. “It wasn’t locked?”
I chewed my lip, worrying that I’d get Patti in trouble by admitting too much. “Patti knew where Agnes kept
the key.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“Well, she found the bill for the license so we copied down the number. And Patti started looking for bank and credit card info.”
“Why?”
I stared at him. Was he mocking me? My heart pounding again, I decided I’d better err on the polite side. “You know, to see if Agnes had charged anything or withdrawn any money since Patti had talked to her.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And what did she find out?”
“Nothing. She didn’t know the passwords so she couldn’t get in.”
“Aha. Then Agnes didn’t give her everything?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem asking the banks for that info.”
He smirked and nodded. “At least I still have some advantages. Did you see that big corkboard in Agnes’ office?”
“Yes.”
“What did Patti have to say about that? Her name was on those stock market charts.”
I nodded. “Corey’s, too. She said it’s a game Agnes played with her and Corey by email over the years. It started as a high school project and they just kept it up over the years.”
“It wasn’t real?”
“No, a game. You remember when the Minneapolis newspaper used to run it as a contest for high school kids? They chose stocks and kept track of their movements, to see who could end up with the most pretend money during a set amount of time.”
“Uh huh. Looked like Patti did pretty well, but not Corey.”
I shrugged. “Patti said Corey got bored with it and refused to keep playing, so Agnes used the Dow Jones average for his basket of stocks. She got a kick out of beating it.”
“I see. Did you see or talk to anyone else at her house?”
“Yes, the gardener was there. He said he’d mown the lawn that morning and had come back to work in the flower beds. The lawn was freshly mowed. You could smell the fresh cut grass.”
“What else did he say?”
“He questioned why we were there, like he didn’t want us to go into the house. Even got out his phone like he was going to call someone and report us. But Patti told him she was Agnes’ niece, so he backed off.”