Finally, she pulled up to the curb outside of Bean There and breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t blown one of the donuts wrapping her tires. The fact that they’d held up this long was nothing short of a miracle.
As she padded into the coffee shop, she gave Donnie a quick call, making arrangements for him to have a few tires ready for her. She would swing by as soon as she had a little caffeine in her then head to the mayor’s office, finish her day at Meredith’s, and hopefully have time to be with the Langleys and Jason before Lance got swept off with Scott and the police team to make the critical exchange.
Clara was behind the counter when Kate stepped inside. She looked refreshed and her eyes were no longer puffy from crying over the death of her secret boyfriend.
Kate didn’t like the close connections that were forming between murder victims. Was it a chain of dominos? Cookie had been killed and then her old boyfriend, Clifford. Would Clara be next?
It pained her to realize she was considering there would be a “next” murder, but if the Anarchist Freedom Network had taught her anything, it was that when murders began cropping up, they were all interrelated. And it was only a matter of time before residents would put the pieces together. Rock Ridge had barely recovered from the stigma of being a playground for killers. In a lot of ways, Dean’s amusement park theory—bringing tourists in to boost the economy—should also serve to restore and preserve the reputation of this little town. But if more people were now being killed, what good would the park do? Who would come if word got out?
Groggily, she ordered a tall to-go cup of dark roast, as soon as she stepped up to the counter.
“You got it,” said Clara with a smile.
“You seem to be in a good mood.”
“Justice is being served,” she said simply. “I never would’ve thought it was Daisy, but now that she’s been arrested, I feel a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”
At least someone was feeling relieved.
“Thanks,” said Kate, handing her cash for the coffee and telling her to keep the change.
As soon as she got to her truck, a fresh wave of anxiety rushed through her, but she wrangled the emotion, forcing it down into the pit of her stomach and then drowning it in coffee.
She drove to Donnie’s Auto, where her favorite mechanic was having a smoke outside. The auto shop looked quiet. There were only a few cars docked, which Donnie’s employees were tending to. It meant that having her tires changed shouldn’t dominate her morning.
“Pull her into the third bay,” he shouted, walking backwards and waving her car inside the garage.
When she stepped out, coffee in hand, she thanked him for taking her in on such short notice.
“Heard you got your tires slashed,” he commented, snubbing out his cigarette—boot to concrete.
“It was quite a surprise,” she remarked then took a sip of coffee.
“We’ll have you out of here in no time.”
And he did. The twenty minutes flew by, and before she knew it, she was heading back into the center of town. As soon as she parked, she called Jared’s office line and asked if he wouldn’t mind helping her carry up the paint cans she’d bought.
Moments later, Jared was jogging across the parking lot, as she released the truck’s backboard down and grabbed a couple of cans.
“If you could get the last two, that’d be great.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Jared hoisted them out and set them on the asphalt then locked the backboard into place. Following her with paint cans in hand, he asked, “So what color did you get me?”
“It’s a soft yellow. Should brighten the place up,” she said with a smile. In the elevator, she asked, “Is Dean around?”
“He’s been in and out,” said Jared. “I think he’s back though. We all expected him to be in the office for good now that Jason’s at the helm of Wentworth, but after the call last night...” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Jason has plummeted. I stopped in first thing this morning, and he hadn’t even gotten out of bed. I doubt he’ll make it over to the construction site today. Until Lance drops that money off and we get Becky back, I don’t see how Jason’s going to concentrate or do anything.”
It was understandable. Kate felt like she was in the same boat, holding her breath until everything went back to normal.
“How close is Scott going to let us get?” he asked, leading her through the office and into the storage closet that would hopefully not look dreary after she painted and fixed it up.
“I really don’t know,” she said. “Scott’s taking this very seriously, and Lance is going to have to go in alone. I think he plans to keep the team in a van way down the street and get some officers in the woods to wait and swoop in as soon as Becky comes into view.”
“What happened to this town?” he asked, setting the paint cans on the ground.
She didn’t know.
He offered her a parting smile, but it wavered badly. “I’ll be out in the hall at my desk if you need anything.”
Kate made one more trip down to her truck to get her paint rollers, tins, and drop cloths, and then got to work in the storage closet.
As she painted, stroking on the cheerful yellow hue, which did wonders for brightening up the room, she listened to Jared’s various phone calls. A few hours passed and she had completed painting on a thick coat. It would need to dry before she rolled on the second, but with no windows in the room that could take a while. Ordinarily, she would get down to business installing the shelving unit Jared had ordered, but the paint fumes were much too strong.
She decided to stage Meredith Joste’s house and then come back to paint.
On her way out, after updating Jared of her plan, she poked her head into Dean’s office. She had heard him greet the receptionist on his way back in, and the thought that Meredith was the real killer was nagging her so badly, she needed to bounce the notion off of Dean to see if she couldn’t gauge his reaction. After all, he knew who the woman had been that got into an argument with Clifford.
“Got a second?” she asked, knocking on the doorway.
Dean lifted his eyes, though he was gripping his desk phone to his ear. He held up a finger for her to wait and then proceeded to leave a voice mail message for whoever he was calling, which to Kate sounded like Bonnie in the permits department two floors below.
“What’s up?” asked Dean, returning the phone to its cradle.
“What do you think of Daisy’s arrest?”
His eyebrows sprang up to his forehead. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“I doubt she was the woman who got into an argument with Clifford,” she pointed out.
“And like I said, an argument doesn’t indicate a precursor to murder, Kate.”
“I think it was Meredith Joste,” she said bluntly.
“Kate,” he said, repeating her name, but this time in a warning tone, “you need to stay out of it.”
“Corey—”
“The cabinets guy?”
“The furniture store guy,” she corrected before finishing her point, “said Meredith had a lot of cash, enough to manage her mortgage and pay rent down in Florida. Was she the one who made a huge donation?”
Dean sighed, and to Kate, it was enough of an indication she was right.
“If Scott arrested Daisy,” he finally said, “then you have to trust she did it. Not Meredith.”
“Then why is Meredith packing up and getting the hell out of dodge?”
“Look, you got it out of me. That’s all I know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a heck of a lot of work to manage today since your son never showed up at the amusement park.”
“For the record, no one is going to come to Rock Ridge for your amusement park if murderers are running free.”
“Which is why I’ve paid every major news outlet in this county not to print anything,” he stated. “Again, thanks to Meredith.”
“So she kills people, th
en pays others to keep quiet?” she challenged. When he didn’t answer, she stopped pushing and said, “Don’t go in Jared’s office. The paint fumes with knock you out. I’ll be back later today to do a second coat.”
As Kate drove through Rock Ridge towards Meredith’s house, she didn’t know what she was hoping for more, that Meredith would or wouldn’t be home. The idea of being alone in a big house with a woman who very well could’ve shot Clifford in the chest was unnerving, but strangely, not as much as sensing she had also slashed Kate’s tires. Why come after Kate? And what the hell was so precious about that cracked tile?
Then an even more daunting prospect crossed her mind. By now Meredith would’ve surely noticed that Kate had gone ahead and replaced the tile anyway? Would she be irate? Would she yell and advance on Kate as she had on the patio? Would she attempt to do something worse than slash her tires?
As a precaution, Kate sent Scott a text message the second she parked in Meredith’s driveway, which stated: Finishing up at Meredith’s. If anything happens to me, she did it.
Two seconds later she got his reply: Katydid, I love you, but you’re out of your freaking mind.
For some reason, it made her smile. She wished she were out of her mind. But she knew she was dead on and no one believed her.
The front door wasn’t locked so she called out, “Meredith? It’s Kate!”
She thought she heard footsteps on the second floor, but Meredith didn’t reply. Nevertheless, she rounded through the foyer, entered the garage, and took stock of the furniture she had left there. Eyeing the doorway, she made a few mental notes about how she might get the bigger items through. Staging the living room wouldn’t be the worst of it, but getting Corey’s bed frame up a flight of stairs would be no easy task.
Reminding herself that thinking about it too much would only make her dread the long hours ahead, she began carrying the smaller living room items through the house and placing them where she saw fit.
Much to her surprise, arranging the living room was easy and the hours flew by. At times, she glanced through the sliding glass window, wondering about the patio and Meredith’s possible reactions to it. As soon as the living room was finished, she felt a surge of adrenaline kick in. She wanted to poke around outside. Meredith was still upstairs. It would be now or never.
But as soon as she worked up the nerve, Meredith padded down the stairs and found her standing in front of the couch.
“Look, Kate, I have to apologize?”
For yelling at her? For slashing her tires? For murdering an ex-con?
She wondered all of these things, but only said, “Yes?”
“Moving is very stressful. My money has been stretched too thin, and I felt I couldn’t afford the extra minutes it would have taken you to fix the tile.”
It sounded like a lie, but she held her tongue.
“I shouldn’t have reacted so strongly. I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate the apology,” she offered, though it wasn’t easy. “I’m not sure you heard, but my tires were slashed yesterday.”
As soon as she said it, Kate didn’t dare blink she was so poised to read Meredith’s expression. But when her jaw dropped and she started stammering, Kate felt suddenly thrown. Was Meredith the world’s greatest actress, or was she genuinely shocked?
“When?” she asked, stammering. “Why? Not here, did it happen here?”
“I drove up your driveway just fine, but when I went to leave I had two flat tires.”
“I’m stunned,” she said finally.
Kate’s responding tone was a dry one. “I can see that.”
“Well,” said Meredith, clapping her hands as if this conversation would conclude so easily. “All the more reason for me to get out of this neighborhood.”
The neighborhood isn’t the problem, thought Kate. Meredith is.
“Did you know Clifford Green?”
“Excuse me?” she asked, taken aback.
Embellishing the truth to get a rise out of her, Kate stated, “A number of people saw you two arguing. Then Clifford’s tires were slashed. Then he was found dead. Should I be worried?”
Meredith’s eyes widened with such offense that it looked as though she had stopped breathing. When she finally spoke, her tone was shrill. “Maybe you haven’t heard, but Daisy was arrested.”
“I heard. Sometimes the Rock Ridge Police gets it wrong though.”
“Are you accusing me of murder?”
Kate lifted her brows to confirm.
“How dare you?”
“Why were you two arguing?”
“I don’t have to answer this!” Abruptly she started for the stairs, then turned on her heel. “Leave. Now. You’re fired.”
“Who’s going to stage this house?” she demanded.
“Anyone but you!”
By the time Kate reached her truck, she knew she had blown it. Why had she been so pushy? Frustration? The headache that should’ve disappeared with her cup of coffee? She climbed in behind the wheel and realized she had been putting so much energy into making sure Jason felt well and Scott felt supported and the Langleys felt they wouldn’t be alone in all this, that she hadn’t taken time for herself. The thought of doing so only made her feel guilty, if she was being honest with herself. But she had been working long hours, poking around a murder investigation in her spare time, and feeling overwhelmed that there wasn’t a thing she could do to get Becky back, not to mention the severe conflict that had been burning inside her chest at the thought she could’ve sworn she saw Becky outside of Daisy’s Luncheonette, which only made her feel more guilty.
Starting her truck, she eased out of the driveway then hit the gas, eager to get to Sunshine Florist where she was sure Carly would be working with a fresh pot of coffee at arms’ length.
She was right.
As soon as she stepped through the door, she smelled the rich aroma of hazelnut dark roast wafting in the air. Carly was behind the counter, ringing up a customer who was marveling over a giant bouquet of white roses. Kate hung back until the customer passed through the store and left.
“There’s so much to tell you,” she said, nearly collapsing, elbows to counter, in front of her friend.
“Jesus, you don’t look so good.”
Like a trauma surgeon, Carly poured a mug of coffee and placed it in front of Kate as though it would save her from certain death.
“I’m coming apart at the seams.”
“I thought things were going better?” asked Carly, concerned. “Jason got hired. Daisy’s in jail. Are you having some lingering anxiety?”
“Overwhelming is more like it.” Kate straightened up from the counter and gulped down as much coffee as she could. It helped, but only by a fraction. “What I’m about to say, you can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
“I mean it, Carly. You know how rumors fly.”
“I would never. Come on, you can tell me.”
“The Langleys got a ransom note for Becky.”
Carly gasped.
“And poor Lance is supposed to go all by himself.”
“Scott knows, of course?”
“Yes, of course, but I have a bad feeling about it. And on top of that, I think he’s been too preoccupied with finding Becky to do an effective job with Clifford’s killer.”
“You don’t think it was Daisy?”
“I don’t.”
“Kate, you have to let that go. You’re scattered. If you focus on anything, it should be your family and this exchange to get Becky back. When is it happening?”
“Tonight. Don’t ask me more, though, because I shouldn’t tell you.”
Carly sighed and placed her hand on top of Kate’s.
After a moment of finishing her coffee and waiting for Carly to pour her a second cup, Kate asked, “How come you never told me about Clifford?”
“What about him?”
She was deflecting. Kate could tell.
“I spoke with Clara. S
he told me you were the reason Clifford went to prison. That you drove over to Philly to testify about what you had seen him do here in Rock Ridge.”
“I did. It wasn’t easy. And as you said, rumors fly in Rock Ridge. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“What else didn’t you tell me?”
“Let the whole Clifford thing go,” she suggested. “For your own sake. Scott arrested the right person. Daisy knew Clifford.”
“My gut’s telling me Meredith did it.”
Again, she sighed. “I don’t know the extent of their relationship, but Daisy paid his bail back then.”
“I heard he was also living with Daisy,” Kate supplied, desperate to convince herself it wasn’t Meredith—even though every cell in her body was screaming that it was.
“Is there any way you can focus on your work? Try centering that way? Keep it together until tonight so that you don’t waste your time and energy chasing red herrings that will only get you nowhere?”
“But that’s what I do,” she said with a humorous smirk that felt more heavy than comical.
“That’s what you used to do, years ago, and you were good at it. But it ran you ragged. And you can’t afford to be stretched so thin, not with your family in crisis.”
“You know why I can’t let it go? Because I sense they’re connected.”
Carly furrowed her brow, curious.
“It’s crazy and devoid of logic, but I sense it.”
“Then you shouldn’t be here talking to me. You should talk to Meredith if you think she did it.”
Kate snorted a laugh.
“You already tired?” asked Carly.
“And then some.”
“Then talk to Daisy.”
Kate searched her friend’s eyes and decided it wasn’t a bad idea.
Checking the time on her dashboard as soon as she climbed in, Kate figured she had at least an hour before she could paint another coat onto Jared’s office. She turned the key in the ignition, but her other son came to mind so she gave him a quick call.
Luckily, Jason picked up though he sounded like he hadn’t rolled out of bed yet. “Mom?”
Mrs. Fix It Mysteries, Season 2 (5 Cozy Mystery Books Collection) Page 17