A Genuine Fix

by J. C. Kenney

  And I wanted that apartment.

  Maybe it was because it reminded me of my apartment in New York. Or it could have been because it was located a staircase away from my favorite business in town—Renee’s Gently Used Books. It didn’t matter. Once I laid eyes on the hardwood floors, the crown molding, and the ten-foot ceilings, I had to have it.

  She burst out laughing when I went back and offered to move her inventory to the basement. The laughter came to an end when I sweetened the offer by promising to group the books by author’s last name.

  Within an hour of the offer, we had a deal.

  The moment I signed the lease, my eyes filled with tears of joy. I’d proven I could come home again. My choice to leave the security as a literary agent with a large New York firm for the uncertainty of owning my agency in my hometown had been the right one. I wrote the deposit check with a smile.

  The moment I opened the door to my apartment, my eyes filled with tears of despair. I had a ton of work ahead of me. Everything was covered with a thick film of dust. Cobwebs had taken up residence in the corners of every window, their tiny strands causing me to break out in goose bumps. Fortunately, there was no peeling wallpaper, only paint in god-awful shades of pink and pea-soup green that looked like it had been applied in 1975.

  The first week after signing the lease was the worst. After a backbreaking weekend lugging the books downstairs and putting them in order, I spent my days scrubbing, buffing, and painting. I spent my nights doing agenting work. I slept on an inflatable mattress, too stubborn to even spend a few days living with family members.

  By the time the last piece of furniture was finally moved in, my fingers were red and chapped from the weeks of exposure to paint and cleaning compounds. Every time I blew my nose, black gunk filled the tissue. And every time I raised my arm, my elbow rocked me with a white-hot jolt of pain.

  But I was happy.

  The hardwood floors, which Matt refinished, shone like new. The black-and-white checkerboard tiles in the kitchen and bathroom, which Luke regrouted and polished, made me want to get down on my hands and knees and play a game of chess. The new roman blinds, courtesy of Sloane and Rachel, added a touch of elegance and unity to the apartment.

  In the end, Ursi was the one who convinced me I’d made the right choice in living quarters. The moment I let her out of her cat carrier, she took one look to the left, another to the right, and went straight to an end table I’d positioned below one of the windows. With unparalleled grace, she leapt onto the table, surveyed her surroundings, then turned her attention to what she could see through the window.

  I let out a chuckle as Matt chatted with Ursi, who was sitting on that same perch today. The only difference between now and then was that now a seat cushion was fastened to the table to make her napping more comfortable.

  “So, about this news?” I was prepared for it to be bad. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be devastating.

  “The preliminary autopsy report came back.” He opened his notebook and cleared his throat. “Georgie’s death was ruled as smothering by mechanical obstruction. Basically, the weight of the mulch stopped him from being able to breathe.”

  “Good Lord.” I grabbed the arm of a chair to steady myself, then lowered into it. “He was buried alive. That’s horrible. Did he, you know, suffer?”

  “Toxicology reports haven’t all come back yet, but there was alcohol in his system. There’s something else.” He took a spot on the couch across from me. “We finished clearing away the mulch pile earlier today.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re not going to tell me I can resume work at the park tomorrow morning?”

  Despite the fact Matt was my ex-brother-in-law, a man who had cheated on my sister, I’d forgiven him and come to respect him. He had his flaws, as we all did, but he was trying to be a good father to his children, a good ex-husband to my sister, and a good police chief to the people of Rushing Creek. He truly cared about the community and took his job seriously. That seriousness was coming through loud and clear.

  “We found some things at the bottom of the pile—an empty bottle of bourbon, a set of bolt cutters, and a padlock that had been cut open.”

  He stared at me, no doubt looking for a reaction to help gauge my innocence or lack thereof, but also to see if I could make sense of the information he shared.

  “Okay. It sounds like whoever did this got Georgie drunk enough that he either passed out or was too out of it to do anything when the mulch was dumped on him.”

  “Agreed. Go on.”

  “And if there’s any way to connect the lock with Parke Landscaping, it would be reasonable to assume the killer used the bolt cutters to get through Parke’s gate.”

  “My assessment as well. Anything else?” He jotted down something in his notebook.

  I thought for a moment until a question popped into my head. “Why are you talking to me about this? I thought I was a suspect.”

  “You were until we got a look at the lock and the bolt cutters. You’re strong, Allie, but I don’t think you’re strong enough to have cut that lock.”

  “Oh, I see.” I jumped to my feet. “You don’t think I could have done it just because I’m a girl, huh? Well, that’s sexist of you. I…”

  With a mixture of relief and embarrassment at what Matt was implying, I stopped and returned to my seat. I was in the clear. That was the important thing.

  “God, I’m such a dork. I should thank you for sharing this with me. Do you want me to come to the station and try a simulation or something to confirm whether or not I can cut the lock?”

  “You know,” he snapped his fingers, “that’s a good idea. That way we can objectively rule you out. Or at least we can rule out any thought that you did it alone.”

  “Close enough.” I let out a long sigh of relief. This was tangible progress on the case that didn’t involve more fingers being pointed at me. “Are there fingerprints on the things you found?”

  “We’ll get the results in a few days, but I’m not hopeful. The Parke Landscaping truck came back clean. I’m releasing it to Roger tomorrow.”

  I drummed my fingers on my thigh. There was something just out of reach. Then it hit me. “This wasn’t an accident, or a prank gone wrong, was it? Whoever did it made sure no fingerprints were left behind. It was planned.”

  Matt nodded as he popped another piece of gum into his mouth. It was regular spearmint. Evidently his stress level was low at the moment.

  “If it was unplanned, a crime of passion, I’d feel comfortable assuming that someone would eventually blab about it. The fact this was premediated changes the equation.” He went to the window to scratch Ursi again. “I know you’re looking into this, Allie. What can you tell me?”

  I told him everything I’d learned, except for the information about Tommy. There was no way I was going to break Mom’s confidence to a police officer. That could get us both in another kind of trouble, and I didn’t have time for that. Besides, I didn’t know how Matt would react to having his promotion put under the microscope again.

  No, if I was going to take a close look at the dangerous Officer Tommy Abbott, I was going to do it alone.

  Chapter Nine

  First thing the next morning, I called Jeanette and asked if she could arrange a time for me to talk to Tommy Abbott. I had a hard time believing a police officer would murder someone, but his temper had already demonstrated that he wasn’t immune to acts of violence.

  While I waited for her response, I got to work editing a new client’s manuscript. It was a lighthearted, humorous action adventure and was the perfect medicine on a stress-filled morning.

  The story had made me laugh out loud three times, a sure-fire good sign, when I received a text message. Jeanette and Tommy were having lunch at the pub. She suggested I stop to say hi on my way to see my sister. I laughed again. Having a sneaky frie
nd sure came in handy.

  A little while later, I pulled up in front of the pub. A bright yellow bike rack had been installed. Instead of boring parallel bars between which one could insert a front tire, this structure resembled a massive corkscrew that had been placed on its side. It was six feet from end to end and came up to my waist. There was room for at least a dozen bikes.

  Slipping my bike between the rack’s circular tubing was a snap, and I was able to fasten my lock in such a way to make my wheels much less vulnerable to theft. It was encouraging to see my town becoming more bike-friendly. Hopefully, more people would spend time on two wheels instead of four when they saw they had safe places to store their rides.

  Despite my distrustful nature, at heart I was an optimist. My hope for the bike racks was proof.

  Since it was Wednesday, and I’d be meeting with my sibs later to check in about Mom, I made my visit with Rachel quick. She raised an eyebrow when I told her the real reason for my surprise visit.

  “You’re getting underhanded.” She put a hand over her heart. “My goody-two-shoes little sister is growing up and spreading her wings. I know how I can help. Go have your lunch. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Surprised by Rachel’s compliment, I made my way toward Jeanette and Tommy. It wasn’t that my sister was always mean to me. On the contrary, when Dad passed away, we came to terms with how awful our relationship was growing up, and we’d been working on being good sisters ever since. Still, with Dad gone less than a year, receiving kind words from her was taking some getting used to.

  Jeanette saw me and waved me over. This was going to make my visit seem even more coincidental. Hopefully, that would be a good thing.

  “Hi, guys. Mind if I join you?” Without waiting for an answer, I dropped into the booth next to Tommy, blocking him in.

  A moment after I joined them, a server brought their lunches. He was having a patty melt. She was having a turkey club on rye.

  Jeanette slid her plate in my direction. “Have some fries. There’s no way I can eat all these.”

  While they ate their sandwiches and I ate most of Jeanette’s fries, we chatted about the usual things Rushing Creek locals talked about—the tourists who drove too fast, the teens who were out too late getting into trouble, and how long it would be before Ozzy Metcalf, the difficult owner of Ye Olde Woodworker, drove his newest neighbor, Scents and Soaps owner Shirley Price, to a new location.

  Our consensus was the speeding tourists, and the traffic citations they paid, were good for the local economy. The teenage misbehavior wouldn’t subside until it got too cold to socialize out of doors late at night. Shirley was tougher than her hippie exterior suggested, and Ozzy’s attempts to run her out would prove fruitless.

  When the conversation started to lag, I told them I was visiting the police station later for my strength demonstration. “Chief Roberson said if I can’t cut the lock, that should rule out any theories that I killed Georgie alone.” I took a sip of my ice water and waited for a reaction from Tommy.

  It didn’t take long.

  “Between the three of us, I want to find out who did it so I can give that person a medal.” He wadded up a paper napkin and dropped it on his plate. Agitation emanated from him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I won’t miss him, though.”

  “You didn’t get along?” It was a cautious way to broach the subject. Too cautious, perhaps, but better than overplaying my hand.

  “You could say that. I should be going before I say something I’ll regret.” He reached for his Rushing Creek PD baseball cap at the same time Rachel appeared with two dishes, each laden with a slice of apple pie topped with a scoop of ice cream.

  “I don’t do this often enough, but these are on the house.” She placed one dish in front of Tommy, the other in front of Jeanette. “A little thank-you from all of us at the pub. Enjoy.” With a smile, she spun on her heel and walked away.

  Well done, sis. Impeccable timing. I made a mental note to thank her. And reimburse her.

  Tommy and Jeanette looked at each other with wide eyes and open mouths. After a moment’s hesitation, in unison, they picked up their forks and dove into the dessert.

  I took a moment to enjoy their collective surprise as they enjoyed the homemade pie and locally sourced vanilla ice cream. Regardless of the manipulative steps I’d taken, they deserved treats like this. Sure, Rushing Creek wasn’t a hotbed of crime, but it didn’t change the fact that every day they put their lives on the line for the community.

  Rachel had done well.

  When Tommy was about halfway through his pie, I made another go at him. “For what it’s worth, I get why you didn’t like him. When I was a senior, he asked me to prom. We were in the same government class and I’d helped him study a couple of times. I didn’t think anyone was going to ask me, so I was over the moon when good-looking bad boy Georgie Alonso asked me to go. Things didn’t work out like I’d planned.”

  “What happened?” He put down his fork and wiped his mouth. His attention was entirely directed at me.

  “There I was in a full-length lace and chiffon gown. We had dinner reservations at seven. It got to be six-thirty, when he’d promised to pick me up, then seven-thirty, then eight—and still no Georgie.”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Even over a decade later, the memory was still a kick to my solar plexus.

  “I don’t remember when the humiliation overtook me and I broke down in tears, but Mom was there and held me while I cried my eyes out. Eventually, she helped me upstairs and got me out of my dress and into bed. Then she popped a bowl of popcorn, and we ate it together while we watched Adventures in Babysitting.

  “The next day I found out Georgie went with a bunch of other kids who blew off the prom and spent the night partying at the state park. When I saw him at school, first he acted like he didn’t remember asking me. Then he made a big deal of laughing at me. I was humiliated all over again. Except for when my dad died, it was the worst time in my life.”

  “Wow. That’s bad.” Tommy traced a figure eight on his plate with his spoon and scooped the last bit of ice cream into his mouth. “Since we’re sharing, everyone knows we got in a fight a few years back. People think it’s because he thought I was hassling him over a public intoxication thing. They’re wrong.”

  “What was the reason?” Jeanette’s quiet tone had a calming effect to it. She was skilled at dealing with agitated citizens.

  “I caught him hitting on my wife. That was bad enough. What made it worse was that Lori was six months pregnant at the time. He tried to make a move on her at Lori’s baby shower.”

  “Ewww.” Jeanette and I said it at the same time.

  I was filled with a combination of revulsion, sympathy, and anger. Revulsion at Georgie, who I thought couldn’t sink lower than what he’d done to me. Sympathy for Tommy, whom I’d manipulated into revealing a painful, personal secret. Anger at myself for putting the man in this position.

  “I’m sorry.” I drained the rest of my water. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “You’ll keep this between us, won’t you? I was working the night Georgie was killed. I don’t want to give people a reason to think I did it.”

  When he was satisfied with Jeanette’s promise to keep his secret, he shook hands with us and headed out. I thanked my lucky stars he didn’t wait for me to make the same promise.

  “What do you think? Raises more questions than it answers, doesn’t it?” Jeanette took a bite of her pie.

  “That’s putting it mildly.” I evaluated the likelihood of Tommy committing the crime. Revenge would have been his motive. His job would have provided him the means. Working the night of the crime would have given him the opportunity. Which led to a question.

  “I haven’t heard anybody mention Georgie’s car. Have y
ou guys found anything helpful in it?”

  “Um, no.” She took a drink as she stabbed piecrust crumbs with her fork. “It’s missing.”

  “What do you mean? Did someone steal it? It was impounded as evidence, right?”

  “No. Nobody stole it. We can’t find it.” Her aggravation at making the admission was palpable.

  After seconds of uncomfortable silence, I took a drink of water while I thought this through. A man murdered. A dump truck stolen. A car missing. No solid leads. It was a bleak picture. Made it easy to understand Jeanette’s frustration.

  “That would explain my conversation with Matt last night.” I told her about the question-and-answer session with the police chief.

  “Let’s take this outside.” My friend dropped some bills on the table and marched toward the exit, with me practically running to keep up. When we reached her cruiser, she motioned me to get in.

  “Here’s what I know, which isn’t a lot since I’m off the case. We have an approximate time Georgie left Hoosiers. We have the approximate time Tommy last saw him. We know when you found him and how he died. We’re still investigating, but there’s more we don’t know. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you being cleared sets the investigation back.” She forced a smile.

  The admission hurt, but it was understandable. It called to mind the frosty relationship I had, and probably would always have, with Jax Michaels, given the accusations I had directed at him regarding Thornwell’s murder.

  “Sorry to complicate things.” I made sure my tone was light. “Has anybody talked to Lori?”

  “No. She’s not ready yet. At least, that’s what she says. She’s a sympathetic figure since she’s a single mom now, and given who her father is, Matt doesn’t want to lean on her.”

  “At some point, he’ll have to talk to her, won’t he?” I told her about the insurance policy rumor Luke had shared with me. “A big insurance check in exchange for a loser boyfriend seems like a pretty big motive.”