We arranged a time and place, and when I hung up, I squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to talk to my girls, so I pulled out my phone and sent an SOS text to Brandi and Ashley.
Twenty minutes later, Brandi arrived with a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies, which was her usual contribution when I sent a distress message. “What’s wrong?”
I took the plate. “J.T.’s a suspect in Tara Fullerton’s murder. Detective Perkins questioned him today.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish.” For so many reasons.
“Well, obviously he didn’t kill her.” But there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes as she removed her denim jacket, folded it, and placed it on the bench in the foyer.
Ashley, dressed in workout clothes, breezed through the front door. “Guess what I just saw?”
Brandi and I exchanged glances. Ashley was way too giddy for the news to be about J.T.
“What?” I closed the door.
“Kelsey posted on Facebook about being single, so she and Evan must’ve broken up.”
“Uh-oh.” Brandi’s eyes were wide.
“They did,” I said. “I saw Evan at the grocery store today, and he told me.”
Ashley unzipped her sweatshirt and tossed it on the bench. “I can’t say I’m shocked. I’ve never seen a grown woman behave like she did—unless it was for cameras on a reality TV show.”
Brandi cleared her throat.
“I know.” Ashley held up her hands. “We shouldn’t gossip.”
“Are you still hoping you have a chance with Evan?” The crease in Brandi’s forehead deepened.
“Right now, I have more on my mind than Evan Beckworth.” I headed for the kitchen and hoped the topic at hand would keep them from noticing my murder investigation board in the dining room. “Besides, I’m moving beyond Evan.” If I said the words out loud, I might really mean them. I set the plate of cookies on the counter, opened a cabinet, and pulled out three glasses.
“Because of Jon?” Brandi asked.
I needed to tell her about Jon and the text I’d sent about him meeting her. “No. He’s a great guy, but there was zero chemistry.”
“Chemistry isn’t everything,” Brandi said.
I glared at her as I picked up a cookie. “You want me to settle?” I shoved the whole thing in my mouth.
Ashley rested her hand on my shoulder. “Absolutely not. No man is better than the wrong man.”
“Amen.” Brandi added.
That had to be Life Lesson #1. Well, knowing and walking with Jesus ought to come first, so the man thing should be pushed down to #3. Still, it surprised me to hear Ashley say that since she’d always seemed so boy crazy.
“What about Cal?” Ashley leaned against the island.
My heart clenched. “That’s not going to work out.” I walked to the refrigerator and grabbed the milk.
“Why not, hon?” Ashley raised her eyebrows. “Please tell me you didn’t push away that fine specimen of a man.”
What a nice vote of confidence. “He’s pegged J.T. as a suspect in Tara Fullerton’s murder, so he canceled. You know, it doesn’t look good dating a suspect’s cousin.”
Ashley gasped. “What? No! J.T.?”
While I poured milk, I told them everything I’d learned from J.T. and included my story of confronting Cal. I rolled my eyes. “Usually the guys I date meet the girl they marry after paying attention to me. A potential love interest looking to arrest a relative is new territory.”
“I’m so sorry.” Brandi said. “Let’s pray about it. Right now.”
I nodded, and we circled up. Brandi asked God to give J.T. strength and to make the truth known.
When she finished, Ashley huffed. “I can’t believe it. J.T. wouldn’t kill anyone. He’s harmless.” She picked up a cookie and started nibbling, and I wondered if there was more to Ashley’s reaction than friendly concern. For a while, I’d suspected that she had her eye on J.T.
“I’m going to prove he’s being set up.” I took two more cookies and sat at the table. “J.T. swears when he left the woods that day Tara was alive and well, and I believe him. Whoever Tara wanted to investigate killed her and hoped it would look like an accident, but when I turned in the letter and the police ruled her death a homicide, the killer decided to set J.T. up. The problem is, J.T. hasn’t done anything illegal that Tara would’ve found suspicious.”
“What do you mean?” Brandi asked.
“If Tara was killed because she found dirt that someone wanted to keep hidden, then it doesn’t make sense that J.T. killed her. The only motive Detective Perkins has is a lover’s spat between J.T. and Tara.”
Brandi nodded. “Which is probably why J.T. hasn’t been arrested.”
“Yep.”
“I want to help,” Ashley said.
Brandi bit her lip. “I’d tell you to let the police handle it, but they’ve done a lousy job so far. Will you promise you won’t do anything stupid? Or run around by yourself?”
Considering the threat on my yield monitor, that wasn’t a bad idea. “I promise.” Then I remembered my date with Nick Vogler. Since I didn’t know him, our upcoming outing could be classified as stupid. “How would you both like to be my spies tomorrow night?”
On Tuesday, Grandpa and I tilled soil in some of our fields, and late that afternoon, I’d just stepped out of the shower in preparation for dinner with Nick when my doorbell chimed. Sighing, I tossed my hair towel on my bed, put on my slippers, and pulled on a robe as I walked to the door. When I peered through the sidelight onto the front porch, I saw Baby Kelsey clutching her pink handbag with both hands. She shifted back and forth.
“What on earth does she want?” I muttered. Maybe I did need a pet. A dog might be happy to listen to me talking to myself. “Lord, help me be kind.” I opened the door. “Hey! How’s it going?” I sounded disgustingly chipper, but it was too late to tone it down.
She stared at me. “You don’t look upset.”
Why did she feel the need to always pick a fight? “Why would I be upset?”
“Because I’m here.”
Had she been hoping to upset me? I stepped aside. “Come in. It’s not exactly warm out there.”
She shook her head, and her dark hair swayed. “I can’t stay. I have to get ready for work tonight.”
“Does staying up all night bother you?” I asked. “I’d be a zombie, and patients wouldn’t want me taking care of them.”
“I’m used to it.”
“So… How can I help?”
“Why do you assume I need help?” Her eyes flashed.
I tilted my head. “Because I can’t think of another reason for you to visit.” The words flew out before I could think.
Nice Georgia.
Her face crumpled. “Why did I bother?” She bolted off my porch and ran for her gray Jeep.
“Kelsey, wait!” I chased after her, trying to keep my slippers from falling off and securing my robe because the neighbors didn’t need a peep show. I’d heard rumors about Old Man Smith and a pair of binoculars that had me thinking twice every time I ventured outside.
She wrenched open her door. “Don’t you ever tell Evan I was here, understand?” She got in and started to slam the door, but I grabbed it.
“Are you sure I can’t help?” The wind whipped my wet hair, chilling me.
She collapsed against the seat. “I blew it with Evan.”
“At least you didn’t shove the pie in his face.”
“It’s not funny.” She moaned and buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I lost it like that.”
I couldn’t either, but I managed to bite my tongue before I agreed. “You like to eat healthfully, but that whole incident was not about the pie.”
She nodded. “I’m so insecure.” She scrunched up her nose. “Ugh! Why am I telling you this?”
Everyone knew she was insecure, but it’d take a better detective than me to uncover the mystery of why she’d shown up here. But she h
ad, so I’d better do my part. “You have a lot going for you. You’re pretty. Talented. Smart.”
“How do you know I’m smart?”
“Because you wouldn’t be a nurse if you weren’t.”
The edges of her mouth turned upward—just a bit. “Thanks.”
“Have you thought about talking to someone to help you figure out what’s causing the insecurity?”
She rubbed the steering wheel with her thumb. “If I go to a shrink, Evan won’t want me.”
“Kelsey, he deals with hurting people all the time.”
She stared at her lap. “He deals more with student schedules and standardized tests.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard him complain about that. But he’s trained to counsel people, and he’s passionate about helping others.” I took a deep breath. “If there’s one thing I know about Evan, it’s that he hates it when people deny a problem and refuse to get help for it.”
Her eyes glistened. “Do you think he’d give me another chance?”
“If you’re willing to figure out what’s causing your insecurity, and really work on it, you might have a shot. But if you don’t, then your relationship will never work—with Evan or anyone else.”
She swiped tears with the back of her hand. “Thanks.” She started the car. “But you haven’t promised not to say anything about this to Evan.”
No one could fault her memory.
“I promise.” I shut her door, and as she drove away, I wondered if I’d ever have the courage to take my own advice.
Chapter Fourteen
On Monday night when Brandi, Ashley, and I had decided to ignore each other at Salvador’s Italian Restaurant in Richardville, it’d seemed like a smart idea. Then on Tuesday, the host seated us at neighboring booths next to a three-tiered fountain. From my seat, I had a perfect view of Ashley and Brandi, who kept giggling like a couple of middle school girls.
Nick leaned forward and jabbed his thumb in the direction of Ashley and Brandi’s table. “That woman with the curly hair was my eighth-grade social studies teacher.”
Oh boy. “Is that weird?” I kept my tone as light as the instrumental music that played in the background.
“Nah. I don’t think she recognizes me. I’ve slimmed down since middle school.” He chuckled nervously. “I used to have a crush on her.”
I fought a laugh. When I’d invited Brandi and Ashley, I’d only referred to him as Tara’s cousin, Nick, so Brandi hadn’t made the connection. To my relief, our spikey-haired waitress bustled over and plopped a basket of breadsticks on the table.
“Welcome to Salvador’s. I’m Jamie, and I’ll be taking care—” She clamped her purple-y pink lips shut and glared at Nick.
His cheeks reddened, and he cleared his throat. “Hi, Jamie.”
“You dump me for a blond bimbo, and all you have to say is, ‘Hi, Jamie’?” She muttered something under her breath that probably wasn’t fit to be heard. Surely, she didn’t mean I was the blond bimbo.
“That’s not how it happened, so stop revising our history.” Nick’s voice didn’t hold a trace of anger, which was impressive in the face of this ambush.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” she hissed.
He poured some water from the carafe and took a sip. “Last I knew, you were at Grey’s Bistro.”
She glared at him. “I can’t do this.” She whirled around and stomped away.
“My ex.”
“Wife?”
“Girlfriend.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She made my life miserable.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “We can go somewhere else.” That would freak Brandi and Ashley out, but it was a natural thing to offer.
I looked to my left, and Ashley’s eyes were wide.
“I’d like to see how this plays out.” He grinned. “Plus, I’m not going to let her run me off.”
Interesting that he cared about having the advantage. Had he told the truth about not knowing Jamie worked here? Salvador’s had been his idea. Was he making a play to get her back?
A thin man appeared at our table. “I am Salvador. Please accept apology. Jamie is, ah, what you call, hothead? I will provide appetizer free. Dean will be waiter.”
“Thank you,” Nick and I said in unison.
Salvador bowed and walked away, and Dean approached. We placed our orders without incident, and Dean left.
“Let’s get the business out of the way so we can enjoy dinner.” Nick folded his hands and rested them on the table. “What’s on your mind?”
I wanted to dive in and ask about his alibi, but that would be a terrible strategy. “Someone tried to make Tara’s death look like an accident, and when that didn’t work, that person set up my cousin J.T. because he was secretly seeing Tara.” I rolled the silverware out of my napkin and arranged the fork, knife, and spoon on the table.
He leaned back. “Interesting theory, but Tara never mentioned J.T.”
“Did she ever talk about a guy she’d nicknamed Sharkie?”
“No—and believe me, I’d remember if there was a chance she was going to kick Mike to the curb.” His jaw clenched.
After Dean brought our drinks, I decided it was time to switch gears. I told him about the letter Tara wrote to me. “Do you have any idea what Tara was trying to figure out?”
Nick picked up his straw paper and squished it into a ball. “Mike could’ve been doing something illegal at his restaurant. The guy has a reputation of being tough to work for, but Tara always swore he was good to her.”
I swirled the ice in my Coke as I remembered Haley being allowed to study. “Who told you about Mike’s reputation?”
“Jamie. She worked at his restaurant about two years ago. Said he has a nasty temper. That’s why she quit.” He rolled the paper wad between his fingers.
I wasn’t sure Jamie was the best source, but I had to admit, some of Mike’s crass comments had rubbed me the wrong way. It wasn’t stretch to picture him losing his cool. “Last time we talked, you told me about Mike’s criminal history. Why do you think Tara was so willing to give him a second chance?” I clutched the napkin in my lap.
“When Tara was a teenager,” he lowered his voice, “she was into drugs.”
I bit my lip. “I’m sorry to hear that. How long was she clean before she died?”
“At least five years. Being off drugs helped her get her life together, but it was the whole Jesus thing that made her different.”
“Does Morgan Hopewood have a drug problem? She seemed strung out at Tara’s funeral.”
“Yep. Tara was trying to help her get into rehab, but I worried about Tara being sucked back into that life. Mike was too, so I guess that’s one area where we could agree.” He cleared his throat and fiddled with the parmesan cheese container.
Now or never. “I really hate to ask, but where were you the morning Tara died?”
Nick gaped at me as the waiter set the bruschetta on our table and walked away. “At work.” His posture stiffened. “Our network crashed on Sunday, and I spent the whole night fixing it. I left at noon on Monday.” He crossed his arms. “Feel free to call my boss and confirm it.” There was no mistaking the challenge in his tone.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” His tone said otherwise, but he picked up a piece of bruschetta and took a bite, and I did the same. The fountain’s trickling water mocked our silence.
“Do you have any hobbies?” I caught Ashley’s eye, but then horror crept into her expression. She said something to Brandi, who turned casually after Ashley nodded. Brandi’s eyes widened.
“Golf. And I just bought a boat. You?”
“Music.” What had my friends seen? “And gardening.”
“What’s your favorite thing to grow?”
“Green beans…” Then I identified what had upset my friends.
Cal.
And he was passing my table with a skinny brunette who was rocking a pair of what had t
o be four-inch heels. If I tried to wear those shoes, I’d take a tumble worthy of a corny sitcom. Not to mention the added height would cause me to tower over ninety-five percent of the male population.
Cal didn’t notice me and put his hand on the small of his date’s back as she took a seat in the booth facing me.
Thank goodness Cal hadn’t seen Nick. Now, if we could be out of here before he left or went to the restroom. I pulled my focus back to Nick. “Yeah, I grow lots of things in my garden. Zucchini, peppers, cucumbers, strawberries, tomatoes, even some flowers. My mom helps me with canning because I’m not good in the kitchen and never really have been.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Where do you go boating?” I glanced at Ashley, who mouthed the word, restroom.
“Mississinewa mostly.”
“Cool.” I nodded. “Excuse me for just a second.”
“Sure.”
I hightailed it to the ladies’ room and waited while I examined the bottles of lotion sitting between the sinks and picked Harvest Moon to slather over my dry hands. A few minutes later, Ashley joined me. “Sorry, hon. Brandi and I were arguing about who should come in and who should guard our table. Are you okay?”
“Yep. Although I wonder if Cal had already planned this date before he cancelled ours.” The girl was the least of my worries. At least, that’s what I told myself.
“Don’t jump to conclusions.” Ashley picked up a bottle of pumpkin spice lotion and squirted a blob into her palm. “It could be his sister.” She rubbed her hands together.
I snorted. “My brother would rather have his hand cut off than touch the small of my back.”
“True.” Ashley curled her upper lip. “Mine would rather be shot.”
I leaned against the counter. “What do you want me to do? Go up to Cal and find out?”
“Why not?” she asked. “When we prove J.T. didn’t kill Tara, then Cal will be able to see you again, so you need to keep your hat in the ring.”
“If Cal sees me with Nick, he’ll know I’m investigating since he heard me questioning him at Tara’s funeral.”
“Cal doesn’t know that your funeral interrogation didn’t blossom into a date with Nick.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Keep Cal wondering. Two can play at this game.”
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