by Laina Turner
“What?”
“Running.”
“You just have to get used to it. Once you’re in shape it is fun. Keep at it, and you’ll love it.”
“Not so sure. Have you talked to Stephen lately?”
“Last night we met for a drink. Nothing big. I don’t think he’s the one, but he’s fun to hang out with. How’s Jack?”
I hesitated. Jack had made me promise not to tell Berklie and Sophie about his past. I hated keeping things from my best friends, but I could understand his point that the fewer people who knew the better. Besides, they were probably better off not knowing. “He’s good. Been really busy lately so I haven’t seen much of him.”
“Are you going to Sylvia’s funeral?” Sophie said, changing the subject.
“I wasn’t planning on it. Berklie said it was going to be a very small ceremony, and we didn’t know her that well.” Jack had asked me not to go, though I admit I had kind of wanted to go. Not because I liked funerals, but maybe someone would show up that wasn’t expected and give us a clue as to who had killed her. Though that was probably more likely to happen in the movies than in real life.
“Me, either.”
We chatted for a few minutes about nothing really, and then right in the middle of telling me about some guy she dated in college who’d recently looked her up on Facebook, she said, “Didn’t that car already drive by here once?”
I looked at the car she was talking about. It was a silver Impala. One of the most common cars around. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Yeah, I’m sure this is the second time.”
“It’s probably someone looking for a certain house. You know how all the houses in this subdivision look alike. Probably some poor mom looking to drop off her kid on a play date.”
“No, I don’t think so. Pay attention. They slowed down both times they got near your house. Look,” she pointed down to the end of the street. “The car is coming back around. Watch. I bet you ten bucks it will slow down, not very noticeably, but it will slow down in front of your house.”
“It’s a deal.” We both stared at the car as it came down the street. The sun was glaring, and I couldn’t tell who was driving, although it did look like a woman. Right before the car got to my house—Sophie was right—it slowed down. But I still couldn’t see who was driving.
“See, I told you. Can you see the license plate?”
“No, Sophie, I can’t. The sun is glaring right on it. I can’t see the plate or the driver. I think you’re right, though. That car was slowing down by my house. But why?”
“I don’t know. You think it could be connected to Sylvia’s murder?”
“I can’t see how. But I think I should call Clive and tell him just in case,” I said standing up to go get my phone.
“Good idea.”
*****
“What did you do with the money, bitch?”
“Who is this?” I had woken out of a sound sleep to answer my ringing cell phone.
“I know you took the money out of the locker. It belongs to me, and I want it back.”
I sat up in bed, trying to figure out who the hell this was. Only Jack, myself, and the police knew about the bag of money. Well, except for Sylvia, who was dead, and whoever she got the money from. Maybe that’s who this was. I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the number, but of course it was unknown. “Who is this?” I asked again more forcefully. There was no answer, but I knew the guy was still on the line as I could hear him breathing. “Who is this?”
“I want my money!”
The voice almost sounded familiar to me. “I don’t have it.”
“Liar. I know you took it out of the locker.”
“Then I’m surprised you don’t also know the police took it.” I heard his sharp intake of breath, and a click, and then he hung up. I set the phone down beside me. Apparently, whoever this was didn’t know the police had the money.
Chapter 22
I hate it when I’m forgetful, I thought, as I opened my front door after dropping Cody off at school. I had forgotten my workbag that had all my notes, to do lists, order list, and well, everything I needed to have a successful day. I had just enough time to stop and home and make it to the shop in order to make the coffee and have it ready before we opened.
I had my keys in my hand as I walked to the chair where I remembered putting my bag, and of course it was sitting there right where I left it. I was such an idiot. I reached down to grab it, when I felt a weird sensation. Something didn’t seem right. I looked around the room and everything appeared to be in place. I figured must be imagining things. I picked up my bag and turned back to the door.
What the hell! I stopped short.
“Hi, Trixie.” A very tall, slim woman with dark brown hair cut in a spikey style stood there. I would have said she was attractive if there weren’t a gun pointed in my face distracting me.
“Who are you?” I asked, letting my bag slide out of my fingers. And here I thought this was going to be a normal day. Silly me.
“You don’t recognize my voice?”
It did sound oddly familiar, but I wasn’t sure where this was going. I still didn’t know who this could be. “No.” I shrugged. “Sorry.”
“I’m Linda. Sylvia’s friend,” the lady said, still smiling, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. And the whole gun thing just completely had me thrown.
“Okay. Did we make plans to meet, and I forgot?” I asked, knowing perfectly well we didn’t have a meeting but hoping to stall until I could figure out what to do. What does one do in this type of situation? Berklie would be waiting for me at the shop, but she wouldn’t think anything of me being late. She would assume I had to run an errand or something.
“No, dear. I do apologize that this is such an impromptu visit. I don’t usually have such bad manners, but time was of the essence, and I just couldn’t wait.”
“Wait for what?” This exchange was confusing me. What happened to the nice lady on the phone who was all broken up over Sylvia’s death?
“Wait to get what I need. What Sylvia stole from me.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I looked for it at Sylvia’s house and it wasn’t there. I know you must have taken it. Now give it to me, and I’ll be on my way.”
I held my hands up in confusion. “Linda I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Linda looked surprised for a second. “You have to have it. It wasn’t at her house.” She was being very insistent and was starting to look more than a little unstable.
What was I going to do to get out of this? “What is it you think Sylvia took? Maybe I can help you find it?”
“She took my client list. The orders for custom snow globes. She’s been stealing my customers. I’ve made sure it won’t happen again, but she owes me the ones she already took.”
Suddenly it dawned on me. “Did you kill Sylvia?”
“Just now figuring that out? Not too quick on the uptake are you? She had it coming.”
“I’m sure she did.” I thought agreeing with her might get her to relax. I didn’t like how she was waving the gun around.
“I do have to be going, so please hand it over.”
I didn’t want to keep telling her I didn’t have what she wanted, nor did I have the foggiest idea where it was. But then, leading her on when she would find out eventually I didn’t have what she wanted didn’t seem like the best idea either. Maybe I should just play nice and offer to help her look for what it was she wants. Maybe that would buy me some time until I figured out how to get out of this mess. “Linda, you need to understand I don’t have the client list. I’m sure it’s at Sylvia’s. I would be more than happy to help you go look for it.”
“Trixie, I might seem like a sweet grandma type, but I assure you, I will use this gun. So stop bullshitting me.” Her voice rose on every syllable.
“Now calm down, Linda. I’m not bullshitting
you. I promise. Let’s go over to Sylvia’s house and look,” I said, trying to sound calm and soothing. Much like I would talk to the grade school kids that would come into the library so they’d sit quietly and read and not be crazy running around.
“I. Will. Not. Calm. Down,” she said, again raising the gun so it was pointed at me. This time there was no waver. I had a feeling she meant business. I had tried to stay calm, but my need to freak out was winning. A few seconds went by with her holding the gun on me and me wondering what the hell to do, when I heard the front door open.
“Yoo-hoo. Trixie, are you in here?”
It was my neighbor, Trudy. The one who watched Cody for me sometimes. What was she doing here? “I’m in here, Trudy, but I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.” I yelled to the other room. The last thing I needed was to have a sixty-five-year-old woman in the mix.
“Is everything okay? It’s an unusual time for you to be home. Is Cody sick?”
“No, Trudy, Cody isn’t sick and everything’s okay. Just stopped to grab something.” Please leave, Trudy, I thought to myself. But I wasn’t that fortunate. She walked into the living room just as I was finishing the last sentence.
“Since you’re here I wanted to ask you a….” she trailed off when she saw Linda and her gun. Pointing now at both of us. “Oh my. What do we have here?” she paused. “Oh heavens where are my manners? Hi, my name is Trudy. I’m the next door neighbor,” she said pointing over her shoulder in the general direction of her house.
What was she doing? Did she not see the gun in Linda’s hand? I just stared at Trudy thinking she had completely lost her mind.
“I’m Linda. Pleased to meet you.”
I was dreaming. I had to be. This wasn’t really happening. What did these women think? That we were at a church social?
“So, what’s the gun for?” Trudy asked as if she had noticed Linda holding a pretty basket of muffins.
Linda looked at me, so I felt compelled to answer. “Linda here is a friend of Sylvia’s. Apparently Sylvia has something that belongs to Linda, and Linda thinks I have it. Hence the gun.”
“Oh. And what’s that?” she inquired sweetly.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I really don’t have time for this chitchat,” Linda said. “I need that list and get out of here. My bus leaves in an hour.”
“Mega Bus?” Trudy asked.
I was beginning to realize Trudy was smarter than I thought. She was trying to engage Linda in conversation so I could do something. Not sure what she thought I should do, but I was inching my way out of the line of fire and hoping something would come to me.
“Yes. The fares are amazing,” Linda replied, still being nice, but I could tell she was getting antsy.
“I like the fact there are bathrooms on the bus. Makes traveling so much easier,” said Trudy.
I continued to inch to the right and started to formulate a plan. Trudy was to the left of her and if I moved a little more to the right we would both be out of direct line of sight to her gun. If I pushed her from the side, I could hopefully knock her off balance and grab the gun.
“Yes, it does. Now, Trixie, we need to get that list, dear,” Linda said, just as I took one more step to the right to what I hoped was safety.
Then I stepped forward, hands out in front, and gave Linda a big shove. Luckily, she wasn’t expecting it, and my push knocked her off balance. The gun flew out of her hand, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Trudy grab it. I had fallen on top of Linda. Guess I overestimated my pushing power and knocked myself off balance. But at least she couldn’t go anywhere.
“Trudy, call the police.”
“Already on top of it, Trixie,” and I saw she had pulled out her cell phone to dial.
Clive and his posse showed up a few minutes later and took Linda away. She was still asking about the list and remaining pretty calm for someone being handcuffed and stuffed in the back of a police car, someone who was most certainly looking at some jail time. I had a feeling she didn’t have too good of a grasp on what was real and what wasn’t.
I stood outside with Trudy, watching the police drive away. “How did you stay so calm in there?” I was still amazed at what had taken place and how Trudy had been so cool and collected.
She shrugged. “I’m good around guns. I used to shoot down at the range, did it for years. Was even on a team and competed until my son made me stop after my husband died. Said it wasn’t a good hobby for an old lady. That I should take up knitting or something.” She snorted. “As if I have any desire to knit.”
“Then why did you stop? Who cares what he says. You’re his mom.”
“I still sneak up there every once in a while. He just finds out because he’s friends with the owner, and then I have to listen to him complain. He’s just as whiny as he was when he was a boy. So, fill me in what was that all about? Is that woman just crazy?”
“Apparently so,” I said, and proceeded to tell her what had brought this on.
Chapter 23
It was a relief being at the shop and knowing Sylvia’s killer was caught and wouldn’t be bothering us anymore. I was still in shock Sylvia had been murdered over snow globes. Who would have thought?
After closing, I spread out the credit card receipts on the counter so I could start organizing them by type: Visa, Mastercard, and Discover. I could then log them in to our Quickbooks program. I was no accountant, but this program was pretty simple, and I was getting the hang of it. I was so engrossed in what I was doing that I was startled by a knock at the door. I looked up from the receipts. It was Stephen. I frowned as I walked around the counter and over to the door, wondering what he was doing here so late. I assumed looking for Sophie, since they seemed to have hit it off.
I unlocked the door and opened it a crack. “Hi Stephen. Sophie isn’t here.”
“I’m not looking for Sophie, I’m looking for you,” he said, smiling. But it was cold and hard. Not the friendly smile he had possessed the other times I had been around him.
“Me? Why?”
“Let me in and I’ll tell you.”
I didn’t feel comfortable with the way he was acting. Not to mention, I didn’t know him that well anyway. “Now’s not a good time. I’m right in the middle of doing the books. Want to meet tomorrow morning for coffee?”
“No, it needs to be now,” he said putting his hand on the door and forcing it open.”
“Stephen! What are you doing?” I took a few steps backwards, and he barged in.
“You and I need to have a conversation,” he said, closing the door behind him and locking it.
I started to panic. I couldn’t believe this was happening again. Twice in as many days my life was in danger, or at least it sure seemed that way right now. “About what?” I said, trying to remain calm. I had no idea where this was going or what he could possibly want.
“You have my money, and I want it back.”
“You? You were the person on the phone?” My eyes grew wide in surprise. “I don’t understand. You knew Sylvia?”
“You could say that. You could also say she owed me a lot of money. Money that now you owe me.”
“I told you, the police have that money, not me.”
“And whose fault is that? Yours, for sticking your nose in things where it didn’t belong. I expect you to get that money back.” He took another menacing step toward me.
“Stephen, you can’t possibly expect me to waltz into the police station and get your money back.”
“I can and I do. Or you’ll be sorry. You’re friend Sophie, she likes me. I’m sure you wouldn’t want any harm to come to her,” he said threateningly.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t push me, or you’ll find out just to what lengths I will go. You have until tomorrow night. If you’re smart, you won’t tell anyone, and you’ll meet me here tomorrow. Same time. Understand?”
I nodded.
“Good. Tomorrow night. Be here with the mon
ey,” he said, walking back to the door. He unlocked it and gave me one final look. It gave me chills. Then he walked out into the dark.
I ran over to the door and locked it again. I turned around and slumped against it, putting my head in my hands.
What was I going to do? How was I supposed to get the bag of money out of the police station—where I assumed it was locked up somewhere—without anyone finding out? How was this even my life?
Think, Trixie, think. There had to be a way out of this. As I stood there leaning against the door, my fear started to subside and a plan started to form in my head. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.
Chapter 24
I tossed and turned all night. I don’t think I slept more than twenty minutes, and that even wasn’t in one stretch. But all the sleeplessness did allow me to formulate a plan that with a lot of luck would work. Maybe.
In the morning, I headed to the police station to work out the first steps of my plan. I pulled in the lot, heart pounding. I was skeptical this would work but felt I had no choice. I looked around until I spotted Berklie’s red Navigator. I hated getting her involved in this drama, but I needed help if there was any chance of pulling off this plan. She saw me, too, and got out of her car and walked over.
“So you sure Sophie’s out of harms way?” Berklie asked.
“Yes. I sent her on a road trip to check out other privately-owned bookstores. You know, to see what they’re doing for marketing, etc. And I have Trudy at the shop covering for us. She was more than happy to help. I just hope I’m not putting her in harms way.”
“Trixie, he just wants his money. I’m sure he was bluffing about hurting Sophie. After all, he’s not the one who killed Sylvia.”
“I can’t help but worry. With all that has happened lately, I wouldn’t put it past anyone to do anything.”
“Did you figure out why Sylvia was paying him off?”