A moment later, Grandma Betty returned to the table with a forced smile on her face. She placed her hula-girl napkin on her lap and picked up her sandwich. I was about to apologize. The phone rang again.
“No, she didn’t have anything to do with the murder,” Grandma Betty told the caller, “except that she reported it, of course, like a good citizen… No, to my knowledge, God doesn’t send messages to people through dead bodies, but maybe you should ask Pastor Bill.”
This time, when Grandma Betty returned to the table, her plastered smile looked as if it pained her. She was able to eat one bite of the sandwich before the phone rang again.
“Maybe you could just say she was drunk,” Grandpa Charlie suggested as she left the table again. I nodded enthusiastically.
Within a couple of minutes, I heard her exclaim, “No, she’s not demon possessed!”
Returning to the table, Grandma Betty told us, “You know, I’m just goin’ to leave the phone off the hook for a while.”
“I’m really sorry,” I blurted out. “I messed up. Again. It just came out. He was up there preaching about how God has some kind of great plan for me and my future and all I could think about is how bad things have sucked. I thought about Darryl Chambers, too. What about God’s great plan for him? What was echoing in my head, slipped out of my mouth. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. If you want me to deal with the phone calls, I will. If you want me to go stay somewhere else, I will. No hard feelings. I should probably just get off my high horse and reconsider this whole thing anyway. What have I been thinking?”
I dropped my head into my hands. Willie moaned at my feet. My grandparents sat in stunned silence. A million negative thoughts raced in my head, each vying for top position, but the most poignant one was that I had upset everyone’s life, even those who were on my side. Grandpa Charlie shifted in his seat, set his fork down, and wiped his mouth.
“Well, there’s only one thing to do then,” he announced softly.
I glanced up hopefully.
“After lunch, Dee and I’ll go fishin’.”
“Good idea,” Grandma Betty decided. My eyebrows pinched together. I hadn’t been fishing since I was a teenager, and since I have a love/hate relationship with the water, I don’t enjoy being surrounded by it on a small vessel. Still, the matter had been decided, without me, and I, again, thought it best not to argue.
Death and blasphemy spread fast. After lunch, Grandma Betty replaced the receiver and checked the voicemail. All day, she fielded calls about my mental and spiritual state. I suppose that I don’t blame them for being so skeptical about me. Stranger in town, same name as an evil temptress (though it means delicate). Involved in both death and blasphemy within almost twenty-four hours of each other. Business-wrecker of the year. They didn’t even know about my expert mistake-making, not yet. My shit-pit was deepening, and there was little I could do to stop it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Small
The seas possess about thirty-five brands of seahorses, ranging in size from barely visible to fourteen centimeters. These guys just don’t get very big. But, stature is everything, and you wouldn’t know that seahorses are small based on their beefy bodies and how they carry them.
Seahorses dance to mind again because once again, I’m dealing with one – the head one – who thinks he’s bigger and grander than he truly is.
“You have to give me some kind of estimate here,” I insisted after ten minutes of getting nowhere with Detective Lewis. “I have a business to open. When will the police work be done on the store?”
He shrugged. “Hard to say.”
“A day? Two days? A week?” I prodded. “Just give me a window.”
He shrugged again. “Hard to say.”
“What about the upstairs?” I continued. “Since it’s separate from the crime scene and you didn’t find anything there, can that part be released so that Damon and his men can continue working on it?”
He nodded. “That could happen sooner.”
“When might you know?”
He shrugged.
“Can I get into the store for some of my personal belongings? To hold me over?” I asked.
He shrugged again. I wanted to punch his shoulders. “Possibly.”
“And the Jeep. I’d like it back, too. You must be done with it.”
“Ms. Duffy, this isn’t a TV show,” he told me. “Things take time. Exercise some patience. Should you be cleared in this matter, then all of your items will be returned to you, except of course that lovely picture. We’ll have to keep that, for the file.” His mustache eased up in to a grin. My face flushed hot red.
Detective Lewis sat up in his chair, and added, “Your former boss speaks highly of you.”
I cringed. He’d spoken to Jonathan Dekker, my assistant principal, former boyfriend, and the one who fired me. Jonathan was a little too keen on talking to strangers about me. My heart palpitated just thinking about what that conversation could have been like, two all-stature, no-substance seahorses talking about me. My stomach turned.
“He verified your story,” Detective Lewis went on, “at least the part about not having inappropriate relationships with students. You were once respected. He said your students liked you, until you decided to screw them over.” He laughed. Anger burned in me, but I had nothing to say. Better to be quiet.
“Dekker’s sending me your personnel file,” Lewis continued. “He said it would clear up all my questions. Should be arriving via fax or email any time now. Know anything about what he could be sending me?”
My mouth had dried up, so I shook my head. I could feel my face go pale. Lewis’ grin grew wider with my reaction.
“Well, all will be known soon enough,” he replied confidently. After a short pause, he said, “Did I tell you how much my wife loves hats?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dealing
Faust was a character in a German folktale, originated in the early 1500s. He popularized the idea of making a pact with the devil. Faust wanted to know all and have all, so he exchanged his soul for an easy earth existence. All I wanted was to leave the past behind me, but the deal I had to make for it seemed much steeper.
“Yeah?” Jonathan Dekker answered his phone the same way he always did. I cringed.
“Jonathan, it’s me,” I said. Strangely, I could hear him smile through the phone. “We need to talk.” I moved off under the shade of an azalea tree. Blades of grass tickled my ankles.
“I had a feeling you might call,” he said. “Miss me?”
“I know you’ve been talking to some people,” I started. It was awkward. “People have been asking you questions.”
“You’re a hot topic,” he returned. “Nothing’s changed.”
“I understand that you have to answer their questions,” I continued, “but this situation has nothing to do with me except geography. The police here are morons, most of them. What I’m getting at is-”
“You want me to keep the Tyler Kettering incident a secret. Is that it?” he finished.
“Yes,” I admitted. “It would lead them to false conclusions about me-”
“The Kettering incident is what it is, Delilah,” he replied. “Gotta call a spade a spade.”
I sighed silently. “Then why didn’t you tell them already?”
He laughed. “Wanted to see if you’d call.”
I took a deep breath. “If Lewis knows about what happened with Tyler Kettering, then he’ll definitely think I’m capable of something awful.”
“You are, aren’t you?” he teased.
My heart thundered. “Please,” I begged. “You know I could never kill someone. If I could, wouldn’t it have been you, Jonathan?”
He laughed. “That’s true, I guess.”
“I’m in a bad place here, and I’m asking you, as someone who shared so much with me,” I tried, “to just have some mercy. I’m trying to start over here-”
“And what about that, Deli
lah?” he cut in. “You weren’t even going to let me know where you are?”
The question took me back. “Why would I?”
“I get vacation time, too, you know,” he said. “No reason why I can’t come see you, now that this whole mess at school is behind us.”
I nearly dropped the phone. “Jonathan, I-we’re done,” I said. “You wanted nothing to do with me, remember?”
“Ah, Delilah, that’s water under the bridge now,” he said. “Be nice to reconnect. Come for a weekend every once in a while.”
“I’m sure you have others to play with, Jonathan,” I countered.
“Not at the beach,” he replied. “I hear Tipee’s nice.”
“No, that’s not-”
“How important is it to you to keep this Tyler Kettering thing quiet?” he offered. I plopped down on the grass. The phone was silent for many seconds. “Delilah?”
“You disgust me,” I finally said.
He laughed. “We can be disgusting together, at least on some weekends, when I’m free.” He chuckled proudly at his plan. “Well?”
I cringed, but said, “Whatever.”
“I’ll forget to send the file. But, Becker’s only on vacation for another week.” Thomas Becker was the high school principal. “I can field calls until then, but once he’s back, I can’t promise anything. He’s got a big mouth, you know. He’s supposed to be in and out of the office after next Monday. If he somehow manages to take one of Lewis’ calls, then I’ll text you-”
“You know I don’t have text-”
“I’ll call you,” and then he added, “I’m thinking Labor Day weekend. That’d be perfect.”
I clicked the phone shut.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tools
“I don’t see what the difference is. Some people say amen. Some people say preach it. Other people say bull@#$%!” Milo said, using sound effects in place of the curse words. “I wish we could say bull@#$% all the time. Damn rules!”
“Did you see the Spongebob episode where those words are called sentence enhancers?” Baby Chris asked. The two chuckled. “Well, a listener comments that she is now wondering if she can even take her children to church anymore with such language being tossed about and another asked if anyone has considered suing the young lady. Apparently, using inappropriate language in public is lawsuit material.”
“Get out your checkbook, Ms. Duffy!” Milo said, the sound of a cash register cha-chinging in the background. I flipped off the radio. My mistakes were racking up in a myriad of ways.
Teague arrived at Betty and Charlie’s house late Monday afternoon, just as he was going in for his evening shift. He escorted me to his truck and opened the door for me. After my futile talk with Detective Lewis, I’d called Teague for advice. A few hours later, he’d arranged to take me back home to get some belongings, with a police escort, of course.
“Thank you for doing this,” I told him when he settled into the driver’s seat.
“No problem.”
“Lewis is such a tool,” I said. “He’s going to delay releasing the store on purpose. He mentioned how much his wife loves hats. How’d he ever get to be a detective?”
Teague smiled. “He’s been here a long time.”
“What about you? You’d make a much better detective than that guy,” I said.
Teague shrugged. “He shows up when everything’s over. I love being a first responder, jumping right in to a situation and diffusing it. I honestly don’t care to advance.”
I smiled. “I know what you mean.”
“He’s messing with you,” Teague said. “He’s waiting for lab reports to come back. He wouldn’t let us go in there if there were more evidence to be collected. Once the reports come back, there’s no reason to keep the place sealed.”
“How long do you think?”
“A day or two now,” he said. He pulled into the lot beside the store.
We got out of the truck and crossed the alley to get to the front of the building. The front door was plastered with yellow crime scene tape. My heart sunk. Teague cut the tape with a straight edge from his utility belt, and then unlocked the door with my key, labeled with a tag courtesy of the police department.
The pennies and nickels smell lingered, and was the first thing I noticed when I followed Teague inside.
“You’ll need to hire a special cleaning crew to come in and take care of this,” Teague said, nodding to the large blood stain on the wood floor and the words still sprawled on the wall. “I know a guy in Shawsburg who’s reasonable. I’ll give you his number.”
I sighed. “Yes, I’d appreciate that.” I avoided the stain and made my way to the back. I had my suitcase and other supplies stowed in the office and bathroom. I started packing.
“The place looks nice, aside from the obvious,” Teague remarked from the store.
“Thanks,” I returned. Nothing in the office appeared to be out of place or missing. I filled up my duffle bag with enough clothes for a few days, and emptied my toiletries from the bathroom.
“You’ve really worked hard,” Teague added. My eyebrow crept up at his compliment. It reminded me of students who would compliment me just to ask for extra credit or homework passes. “But, maybe it’ll be nice to have a few days to yourself, you know.”
I plopped down on the floor beside the filing cabinet, curious to hear where this might be going, but even more curious to make sure that the zippered money pouch that held my register’s start-up cash was still there.
“Any ideas on what you might be doing the next couple of days?” he went on. I pulled the bottom drawer open and grabbed the red pouch.
“Um, no, not really.” I started counting the money, laying it out in my lap as I went.
“I was thinking about driving out to the Point,” he said. I stopped counting. My eyebrow peeked up on my forehead.
The last time I had been to Tipee Point was with him. It was the last time I went swimming, and the first time (not the last) that I’d been foolish when it came to men. My shoulders sank. He paused. I could hear his footsteps pacing around the store.
“Is that so?” I returned, dryly. My eyes dropped. An object stuck out from underneath the filing cabinet, almost like an arrow pointing toward the office door. I pulled it out to reveal an odd, metal tool.
“Yeah, I thought it would be fun,” he went on, “surfing, swimming, collecting shells.”
I smiled, slightly. On our day together, we’d done all those things. I remember how impressed he was when I knew the difference between cockle, clam, and scallop shells.
The metal object looked similar to a nail file, slightly thicker. The handle extended into a thinner, three-inch point and the tip curved into a snake pattern. I’d never seen anything like it.
“I could pack a cooler and some sandwiches for lunch,” he went on.
Could it be Darryl’s? Or the killer’s? I dropped the tool into my lap like a hot potato.
“Sound like fun?” he asked. My brain scrambled like eggs on the stovetop.
If I made a big deal about it, the police would come back to the store and start from the beginning. The opening would be delayed, again. It could have been here for ages. Maybe I just didn’t notice it. Chances are that it has absolutely nothing to do with the crime.
My shoulders slumped. But, knowing me, I would have seen it. Wouldn’t I? I’ve been all over this place. I’ve swept the floors and cleaned the floors, even slept on the floor.
“Doesn’t that sound like fun, Delilah?” Teague asked again, suddenly popping his head in the doorway. I folded my arms over the stash of cash and the tool now piled messily in my lap.
“Um, yeah,” I said.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Just lost count,” I said, which was true. I grabbed a few of the ones, burying the tool underneath the rest, further into my lap.
“I thought maybe you’d like to go,” he said, “with me.”
“Oh,” I sai
d. “I don’t know.” My brains were both scrambled and chopped at this point. The metal tool poked my leg, as if telling me to do the right thing, but Detective Lewis’ stupid face kept flashing in my head. “Did I tell you how much my wife loves hats?”
Teague’s eyes scrunched together, confused. “I know I messed up with the breakfast thing, but I promise I won’t let anything mess us up this time.” I cast him a stern look, mainly because I was contemplating several things at once. “I know you’re a believer in second chances.”
“Yes,” I answered. I thought quickly. “But, you know, I don’t really swim.”
“What?”
“I don’t. I know I did, that day, but, as a rule I don’t,” I stumbled. “I know how to, but I generally choose not to. I um, have a thing about the water.”
“You’re kidding me,” he returned, with a pained expression. “You’re like a fish in the wat-”
“I’m good at it,” I interrupted. “My father made me learn, but I can’t.”
“Why? Because of the nightmares?”
I gave him a shocked look. “You remember that?”
“Course,” he said. “Do you still have them?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
“We don’t have to go to the Point,” he offered. “We could go to dinner, movies, anything.”
“Can I think about it? And finish counting this money?” I asked with a smile. He nodded and disappeared back into the store. I sighed, feeling all around conflicted. I took the metal tool and decided to take my conflicts one at a time. I slipped it back under the filing cabinet in exactly the same place and position as I found it. Perhaps I could just pretend that I never saw it.
I couldn’t put Teague back where I found him and pretend he wasn’t there. I wouldn’t want to. Still, I wonder what he could be thinking wanting to relive a day with me that ended with his rejection. Well, technically, the day ended with him dropping me off at Grandma Betty’s house and a long, sweetly awkward good-bye. I thought he would kiss me. He didn’t. His words to Candy the next day ran through my mind, and the subsequent pain jolted back to life within me. Returning to the Point with him would be like pouring lemon juice on a paper cut.
Sea-Devil: A Delilah Duffy Mystery Page 11