by Mary Maxwell
“Come now, Miss Reed,” Polly said. “Don’t look so glum! I was just giving you a hard time.”
“Oh…” I hesitated, trying to decide if I should make my exit or keep going. “That’s a relief,” I said eventually. “You really had me wondering there for a second or two.”
“I know!” she said eagerly. “And I’m sorry. But I work with some pretty stuffy customers. It’s fun to let loose and be silly every now and then!”
The conversion of her personality included a cheerful cordiality in her voice and a much more relaxed stance. Her shoulders seemed softer and less rigid, her grip had loosened on the basket and the tension around her mouth had vanished.
“Now then,” she said. “What did you want to know about the leggings?”
I sighed and took a breath.
“Well, it’s a long story,” I began, “but someone told me about the great Wunder Under Pants at Simply Chic. And my sister’s favorite color is fuchsia, so I wanted to buy a pair for her. But they’d only stocked two pairs in that shade and I heard that you bought them both.”
She smiled. “I did. But they were a gift for someone else.”
“Oh, so—”
“Couldn’t Pearl just place another order for you?” she asked.
“Yes, of course. But I sort of wanted to get a little glimpse because my sister is very picky about her fuchsia wardrobe.”
Polly’s smile fell a bit. “I wish I could help you.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” I said. “And you actually did. I hadn’t thought about the special order idea. Maybe I’ll stop by Pearl’s on the way home and make those arrangements.”
“Good luck,” she said, shifting the basket again. “I’ve done that a few times. Pearl’s a genius when it comes to helping us look marvelous!”
“She’s a miracle worker,” I said, patting my thigh. “She introduced me to these stretch jeans that help keep things a little tighter without cutting off your circulation.”
Polly stepped back and appraised my legs.
“Those look amazing,” she said.
“Simply Chic carries them in about ten different colors,” I told her. “I bought them all!”
“I’m the same way,” she admitted. “If I find something that I like, I buy it in every shade under the sun.” She paused and smiled. “You know, if you really want to find out about the leggings in terms of fit, you could ask Bitsy over there. I gave them to her as a little thank you for getting the mail in and taking care of my cats while I was away for work.”
“That’s nice,” I said. “Good neighbors are a blessing, especially if you travel fairly often.”
“You are so right,” Polly agreed. “We may not agree about everything, but Bitsy, her mother and I keep an eye out for one another.”
“Her mother lives in town?”
Polly smiled. “Not just in town,” she said. “Mildred’s right over there on the other side of the street.”
We both turned to study the bungalow with blue shutters on the far side of Edgewood Road.
“I don’t know what I’d do without them,” Polly added. “I particularly appreciate the fact that they don’t mind taking care of my pets, picking up the mail and watering the plants for days on end when I travel.”
“Do you do that a lot?” I asked.
She laughed. “Only if I want to pay the bills!”
“You work as a tour guide or something,” I said. “Isn’t that right?”
“For an elite travel company out of New York,” she said. “I accompany small groups of wealthy individuals when they want to see what life is like outside of their Beverly Hills estates and Park Avenue penthouses.”
“That sounds like a fun way to earn a living,” I said.
Polly rolled her eyes. “I just got back this morning after ten days in Europe with a bunch of spoiled, shrill nincompoops. I’m sorry to carp about them, but I find it absolutely shocking how little some people know about the world. One woman on this trip kept insisting that Equestria is a real country.”
I smiled, not wanting to reveal my own ignorance on the subject.
“But I finally convinced her,” Polly continued. “We went into a pub, I got my iPad and pulled up the My Little Pony website to show her that Equestria is part of a children’s fantasy series and not the real world.” She shook her head and frowned. “I mean, really! The woman is married to one of the most erudite corporate executives in the country and she’s tricked by Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie.”
“It takes all kinds,” I said with a shrug, guessing that the two names belonged to residents of Equestria.
Polly nodded. “You’ve got that right,” she said. “A woman must do what a woman must do. I used to rely on men when I was younger. But I’ve been on my own for going on ten years, and I must say it’s a much more rewarding way to live.”
CHAPTER 23
As I walked back to my car, I called Dina Kincaid. She sounded rushed and breathless when she finally answered, offering a hurried apology and explaining that she was on her way to a meeting.
“We can talk later,” I suggested. “It sounds like you’re busy.”
Dina didn’t say anything in response, but I could hear clattering footsteps and a few sharp words on her end of the line. Then I listened as she delivered a blistering protest about tardiness, a lack of courtesy and the erosion of simple workplace etiquette.
“I mean, how long does it take to send a text?” she fumed.
“Who are you waiting on?” I said.
“It doesn’t matter.” She sighed loudly. “I should know better by now. Some people are never on time.”
“If it’s any consolation,” I said with a calm tone, “I feel your pain.”
She laughed. “Thanks, Katie. Bryce Kleeman’s going to feel a very different kind of pain when he drags his tardy butt into this conference room.”
I didn’t recognize the name, but I wasn’t going to prolong her ire by asking any questions. Instead, I waited until it sounded like she was seated before mentioning the reason for my call.
“Rex Greer?” Dina said. “What about him?”
“I’ve been doing some checking around town,” I explained. “To try and help find his brother.”
“I’m not surprised,” Dina said with a faint laugh. “That’s what you do.”
“Which part?” I asked. “Snooping or helping people?”
“Actually, a little of both, but I think everyone in Crescent Creek is aware of that by now.”
“As Trent keeps reminding me,” I said.
“And so?” Dina sounded calmer and less out of breath. “What’s the latest?”
“When I stopped by the hospital to see Rex last night, he was pretty loopy from the medication. But he told me a few things that connected at least a couple of the dots.”
“Yeah?” Dina said. “Which ones?”
“Well, he took a cab to Edgewood Road,” I said. “I’d been wondering how he was getting around town without the blue car and—”
“Which he stole from his alleged friend,” Dina interjected. “Rex Greer isn’t the brightest guy, Katie. I did some digging of my own. Not only did he skip a meeting with his parole officer in Philadelphia and steal a car in Denver, he also used a stolen credit card to pay for a motel in Chicago on his way here.”
“I’m not arguing the point about his bad choices,” I said. “But Rex seems genuinely concerned for Theo’s safety. I wanted to follow a couple of leads to see if I can help locate his brother before Rex creates any more trouble for himself.”
“Point taken,” Dina said. “Did I hear you say something about a cab?”
“Yes, Rex took a taxi to Edgewood Road,” I said.
“And who was he going there to see?” she asked.
“I’m still working on that,” I answered. “But during our chat last night, Rex told me that he was attacked by two women. Maybe one or both of them live on Edgewood Road.”
“Two women attacked him?�
� Dina said. “Did he actually say the assailants were female?”
“Yes. Did he tell you something different?”
“He said the people that assaulted him had big, black bug eyes,” Dina replied. “And those are his words, not mine.”
“Bug eyes?” I repeated. “Like maybe someone wearing sunglasses?”
Dina scoffed. “Or maybe he was loopy from the pain meds. At this point, we don’t have any eyewitnesses, no physical evidence and our victim is a convicted car thief with an outstanding warrant for violating his probation. Not exactly a lot to go on, wouldn’t you agree?”
“What about security camera footage?” I asked. “If Rex was accosted on the sidewalk in front of the post office, wouldn’t there be video from at least a few cameras?”
“Nothing definitive yet,” Dina said. “We’re still checking, but the best we’ve found so far is a silver or gray car with vanity plates that was around the corner from the post office.”
“Did you search for the plates in the DMV database?”
“We will,” she answered. “We’re working a couple of other cases that are really close to breaking open, Katie. I know that wouldn’t be much comfort to Rex Greer, but we’re a small department.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“It’s just…well, it’s frustrating,” Dina said. “Everybody with the CCPD works their tail off, but we still need to fill a couple of key positions.”
“What’s the delay?” I asked.
“Qualified candidates,” she answered. “It can be hard to attract really good applicants to such a small town.”
“Didn’t stop you,” I said. “Or Trent.”
She laughed. “No, but this is where we grew up. I think that makes a huge difference.”
“Well, I hope some really great people apply soon,” I said.
“Thanks. Everyone here is hoping for the same.”
“Hey,” I said. “Just out of curiosity. What was the vanity plate on the car you saw on the security footage?”
“The lighting wasn’t the best,” she answered, “so we only caught the last three letters on the plate. They were O-G-A.”
The news sent a shock to my core.
“O-G-A?” I said. “As in yoga?”
Dina sighed. “Yes. Yoga. Or toga.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I was just trying to confirm what you told me.”
“A couple of jokers around here keep teasing that the license plate was about Yoda, the wrinkled Jedi guy from Star Trek.”
I smiled. “I’m pretty sure Yoda was in the Star Wars movies.”
“Okay, sure,” she said. “Like I really care about yoga or Yoda at this point.”
“I hear you,” I agreed. “And I think I actually might have something helpful for you.”
“Oh, yeah? Is it an ETA on when Bryce is going to get here?”
“No,” I said. “It’s about the vanity license plate. I saw one over here on Edgewood Road that might be a match.”
She didn’t reply for a few seconds. Then she said, “Are you serious, Katie? Or are you pulling my leg?”
“Dead serious,” I said. “Polly Ladd drives a silver BMW. And I’d say that she’s also a big fan of the downward dog pose. Her license plate is L-U-V-Y-O-G-A.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’m absolutely certain. Because I’m still parked in front of her house, and I’m looking at it right now.”
“Wow!” Dina cheered. “If I’ve ever doubted that some things happen by strange twists of fate, this moment would—”
She stopped as a loud voice thundered on her end.
“Sorry to cut it short, Katie,” she said, sounding both regretful and annoyed all over again. “But I have to go. The habitually overdue Bryce Kleeman just arrived for our meeting.”
“No problem,” I said, suppressing a snicker. “Go easy on him, detective. Maybe there’s a reasonable excuse that explains why he was running late.”
“I don’t know about that,” Dina said. “But he has a bag of donuts in his hand, so at least he came bearing gifts.”
CHAPTER 24
The Wagon Wheel Saloon was busier than usual when I walked through the door that evening at six. Situated down the street from the Crescent Creek Public Library, the watering hole was among the most popular places in town to sip cocktails, play darts and indulge in the finest five-alarm chili in the region. It was also a safe bet that you could soak up as much local gossip as you wanted before finishing your first drink.
I looked around the room. I recognized a few Sky High regulars before spotting Red Hancock, the hot spot’s owner, behind the bar with a short, roly-poly guy wearing a green plaid flannel shirt. I zigzagged through the crowd and took a seat on one of the few available barstools.
“What gives?” I asked.
Red’s mile-wide smile glimmered. “We’re trying a new two-for-one deal,” he said. “Looks like folks in town are pretty thirsty today.”
The other guy laughed. “Especially Mrs. Santa Claus.” He pointed toward the far end of the bar at Blanche Speltzer dressed in a chic crimson velvet blazer with a white faux fur collar. “She’s on her third dirty martini.”
“To be fair,” Red added, “Blanche asked us to serve them in shot glasses, so it’s not quite as decadent as it sounds.”
I laughed at the comment as Red clamped one brawny hand on his cohort’s arm.
“Katie,” Red said, tugging the other man toward where I sat. “Have you met our new bartender?”
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” I said, extending my hand. “I’m Kate Reed.”
The bald guy looked to be a few years younger than Red, maybe thirty-five or forty. His grip was like a vice, and I winced slightly as we shook.
“Ross Bilton,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. Are you new to town as well as this juke joint?”
He smiled. “Yep. My wife got a job teaching English at the high school. I’ve been studying for my business degree online, so I’m working here three or four nights a week. Bartending is kind of like a third career while I get ready for my fourth.”
“He’s on a trial period,” Red joked.
“How’s it going so far?” I asked.
Ross glanced at Red. “Well, coach? How am I doing?”
“I’d give it a ninety-five percent,” Red answered. “And, just for the record, I’m not crazy about people calling me any nickname besides the one I’ve already got.”
The other man winced comically and apologized. “What can I get for you, Kate?”
“I’ll have a chardonnay,” I replied. “And I’ll be sitting over there with Santa’s spouse. If you could bring it to me, I’d be much obliged.”
While Red showed the newbie where bottles of wine were stored, I made my way down the bar to join Blanche. She was focused on her phone, tilting and turning it to get a better view of something on the screen.
“May I join you?” I asked.
She gave me a sideways glance. “On one condition,” she said, patting the next stool. “Will you help me figure out how to download this new dating app?”
I put my purse on the bar and sat beside her.
“A new dating app?” I said. “Is something going on with you and Boris?”
Her head twirled in my direction. “There’s plenty going on between us,” she said. “But it’s nothing I can share with someone as young and impressionable as you, Katie.”
I liked the fact that Blanche and Boris, two of the more senior residents of Crescent Creek, had been happily dating for several months. They made a cute couple and the relationship seemed to have smoothed the more jagged edges of their personalities. Before they started spending time together, they could both be a little tetchy. But now, no matter the weather or time of day, they waltzed around town like two newlyweds enjoying a perfect honeymoon.
“Okay,” I said, smiling as Ross delivered my glass of wine. �
��If things are good between you guys, why the dating app?”
“Get with the program, Katie!” Blanche said. “My matchmaking service is going gangbusters, but I need to keep up with the competition. I heard from Mary Louise Sifton that Claudia Stein met someone new through one of these dating app thingies.” She glowered at her phone. “They’re a little impersonal for my taste. But if someone as wise as Claudia thinks that they’re a good bet, I need to check into them.”
I held out my hand. “Want me to take a look?”
Blanche put the phone beside her handbag. “Oh, forget about that,” she said. “I’d rather chitchat. What brings you to the other side of the tracks tonight?” She rolled her shoulders and smiled. “A place, I might add, that I find very comfortable indeed!”
The remark was amusing, but her facial expression was even better: a crafty grin with both eyebrows elevated.
“You’re a little imp, aren’t you?”
She raised her shot glass. “I’ll drink to that!”
We sipped our cocktails and she told me that two of her friends would be arriving soon.
“You’re welcome to join us for a bite to eat,” Blanche added.
“That’s okay. I still have work to finish up at Sky High, so I can only stay for a few minutes.”
“Suit yourself.” She raised one eyebrow before drinking more of her miniature martini. “I may not be young, but the night sure is! We’re going to get wild, Katie! Sandy Hollister is bringing pictures from her trip to the nude beach in St. Tropez.”
I felt my cheeks turn pink. “How lovely,” I said. “Sorry that I’ll miss out on the fun.”
After I enjoyed another sip of wine, Blanche leaned closer.
“So?” she said, putting one hand on my arm. “You seem a little preoccupied, sweetie. What’s going on?”
“Actually, I stopped by your house a few minutes ago to get your opinion about something,” I said. “Boris told me where to find you.”
She smiled. “And here I am.”
“In all your radiant beauty,” I added, nodding at the velvet jacket. “Your outfit is really cute.”
“Thank you, dear. That new bartender asked if my husband was working late with the elves. I guess the coat reminded him of Santa Claus.”