Read Between the Tines

by Susan Sleeman

  "Oh, my gosh. I didn't think. Goodness. Yes, I see what you mean. One of them could have wanted to kill Gary to keep him quiet." She dropped onto the nearest chair. "Oh, Paige, this is dreadful. We have to tell the police. And I have to tell the President."

  I admired her enthusiasm, but the President? Overkill to be sure. "I don't think the President needs to hear about this. He has enough to do with running the country."

  Mary chuckled. "I meant the president of Pacific Pickles."

  It was official. I had spent too much time with Daisy. I was beginning to think like her. No wonder I hadn't solved this murder yet.

  Chapter Twenty

  Since I'd been so successful in my impromptu meeting with Mary, I decided to take a few moments to talk with Irene. Though I hated to keep Daisy waiting in the lobby, I didn't know when I'd have an opportunity to speak to Irene again.

  At the corner, instead of heading for the elevator, I went down the hallway to Irene's cubicle. She sat, back to me, hands racing across her keyboard in decisive little clicks.

  "Irene," I said long before my approach so I wouldn't startle her like Nathan had when we'd met.

  She turned, offering a tentative smile.

  I stopped near the front of her cubicle. "I don't know if you remember me. Paige Turner. I was here with Nathan Jacobs."

  "Oh, my gosh. What happened to you?" She stabbed her index finger toward my cheek.

  I ignored the irritation that flared in my gut, and laughed. "Bathtub mishap that I'd rather not get into."

  "I understand." She gave me a warm smile. "I heard you were working with Gary's wife to catch his killer. Is that right?"

  "That's right."

  "Good, I'm glad you stopped by. We want to help in any way we can." She motioned to the cubicles surrounding her. "Gary was a decent boss, and we miss him." Her voice broke.

  Before the tears moistening her eyes flowed, I rushed ahead. "I do have a few things I need help with. Can you get me background information on Barney Rubble? I'm assuming you know I mean the employee, not Fred's sidekick."

  She grinned. "Imagine parents saddling a child with such a name."

  Yeah, imagine. Maybe they were like my mom and didn't know what they were doing. Nah, I could believe that about the name Paige Turner, but not about Barney Rubble.

  Irene scrunched her brows together and seemed to be gathering her thoughts. "I have access to Barney's personnel file, but I could get fired if I give you any info on him."

  "I wouldn't want that to happen. I'll find another source."

  She held out her hand. "No, wait. I'll do it. I'll copy his file but it will take me some time. We could meet later. If you'd like, I could bring it to you when I get off work. Around five fifteen. Should I meet you at your shop?"

  "That would be perfect," I said thinking what a good assistant she seemed to be. Now if she'd only be a good little girl and answer all my questions. "Do you keep a list of terminated employees who might have been as upset as Barney?"

  "There's been no need. There haven't been any other employees who've made threats."

  One question down. On to the next one. "Did you see Gary Monday morning when he came to work?"

  She shook her head. "I wish I had. Maybe he wouldn't have left and gotten—well, you know, killed." It looked like that gush of tears was only moments away. "I've been thinking and thinking about that morning. Trying to figure out what he might have done and how he ended up at that field."

  "Do you think he came here first?"

  "I know he was planning to come in early so he could leave early. He had some big project at home that he was eager to get to. Even though the police found his car in the employee lot, the more I think about this, the more I'm convinced he didn't get to his office."

  Yes, that's it keep her talking and maybe she'll remember something important. "Why do you think he hadn't been up here?"

  "He is—was a hard worker often coming in early and staying late. In the past when he came in early, he'd generate a pile of work for me to do and it'd be waiting on my desk for when I got in. I came in around eight thirty on Monday and there wasn't even one new item on my desk. Plus I've asked around the department and no one saw him."

  "So why do you think his car was here, then?"

  She shrugged and twisted her hands. "That's what keeps bugging me. Why come to work only to leave? The ball field isn't in walking distance so he had to have a ride. But who and why?"

  "My questions exactly," I said aloud the words I only meant to think. "So what's the answer?"

  "Do you suppose someone followed him into the lot and abducted him?"

  "No way to know at his point. I checked outside for security cameras yesterday. None."

  "But there would be records of any car that came through the gate. We each have a keycard and it's electronically scanned to open the gate."

  This was the opening I'd been waiting for. "Any way you could find out when his key card accessed the gate?"

  "Sure, I have a friend who can tell me."

  "Can your friend also tell you if he logged into the company network on Monday?"

  "I'm not sure how that will help, but yes, I do believe she can get that information."

  "It may not help find the killer, but will at least help us figure out what Gary did that morning." I turned to go and spun around. "Hey, just for grins, have your friend see when Nathan Jacobs came through the gate."

  "Nathan? You think Nathan killed Gary?"

  "No, but when I questioned him, he seemed evasive."

  She flapped a hand at me. "That's just Nathan. Mr. Secret."

  "Still, check for me, huh?"

  She nodded, and I took off, hurrying to the lobby where I snagged Daisy's arm and rushed to my truck. I dropped her at The Garden Gate and drove straight to the radio station. I'd spent too much time chasing after these clues so I ran into the studio just in time.

  Lisa was already seated in her booth, tapping a finger on the desktop. "About time. I was ready to put in a 'best of' tape."

  "Sorry, got caught up with Daisy." I hurried to my desk and started organizing the items I'd need for the show.

  "So what were the two of you up to?"

  My hands busy, I filled her in on my new photography hobby. "I have their names, now all I have to do is figure out where they were on Monday. Oh, and guess who I ran into? Nathan Jacobs, the big creep. I can't pin this murder on him, but I'll do everything I can to bring his wife beating to light."

  "I'm right there with you. I've already told Mitch. He said he can't do anything about it unless the wife files a complaint, but he'll keep his ears open."

  "Speaking of Mitch, did he say anything about the break-in?"

  "No, but he did wonder if you'd stop by today." She grinned. "I told him he could count on it."

  I returned her grin with a playful one of my own. "I was kind of thinking about checking out the plants I didn't get to water yesterday."

  "Any word from Adam?"

  "Seriously, Lisa, if he called don't you think I'd tell you about it?"

  "Seriously, Paige, no you wouldn't. I'd have to pry it out of you like most everything else." Her phone rang. "Time to get to work. We'll pick up our discussion of Adam when the show is over."

  I waited for her countdown. "This is Paige Turner with Through the Garden Gate. Today is our last day of dating questions so if you've been afraid to call in, now would be a good time. Following that segment, we'll take all gardening questions. But first today's forecast." I punched the button to play the weather report and watched the phone lines start to blink.

  Lisa was on the phone with a caller so I sat back and watched the second hand on the wall tick by. Nearing the end of the thirty-second spot, Lisa raised her fingers in countdown.

  "First caller has a dating question," she said through the open door. "Her name's Polly."

  At the right time, I punched the on-air button. "Hello, Polly. This is Paige. You have a dating question for us?"<
br />
  "I do." Her voice broke as if she'd been crying. "My boyfriend Paul just dumped me."

  "I'm so sorry, Polly. Do you want to tell us what happened?"

  "Well, I promised him I would quit smoking and I did for a few weeks. But then I had this really bad day at work so I lit one up. And I just sorta started again."

  "He broke up with you just because you started smoking again?"

  "Kind of. Okay. . .not exactly. It wasn't really the smoking that made him mad. It was because I didn't tell him about it." She sighed. "I mean, it's not like I lied about it or anything. I just didn't tell him I started smoking again. Do you think he should have broken up with me over something so minor?"

  I flashed my eyes at Lisa. She let this caller through on purpose. How could I answer without sounding like a hypocrite? What if Adam listened in and heard me counseling Polly, yet not doing what I told her?

  Lisa's head popped up. I glared at her. She returned my look with an innocent one of her own and an apologetic smile. She hadn’t done this on purpose, but it felt like that to me. Or maybe I was just being sensitive. I'd tried so hard not to think about Adam, but everywhere I went, everything I did, the despair over our break-up seemed to surface. And right now, I felt alone. All alone and it was my own fault.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After the show, I offered out of the goodness of my heart—not from the part of me wanting a reason to stop at the police station to see I could glean information on Gary's murder—to drop Lisa off for her work shift. I hated to admit it, but when Lisa took the chair behind the reception desk, she looked right at home. A pixie and barely peeking over the top, her innocent and open face would likely get any criminal to confess at the sight of her.

  When she spotted me staring at her, she smiled with genuine warmth. "You never said how your cheek was feeling."

  I strolled over to her desk. "And you never said if you overheard anything interesting this morning."

  She shook her head. "Forget it. I can't share anything I hear. So go bug someone else." She raised one plucked eyebrow and gave me a pointed stare.

  "Good idea. You think Mitch is here?"

  "That's not what I meant and you know it." She rolled her eyes.

  I held up my hands. "Okay, okay, I have a plant to tend in the break room," I said and turned to go.

  "Sure keep running away from your problems," she said, stopping me and making me look at her. "Your time would be better spent calling Adam and making up with him than hanging around here hoping to glean some information."

  "Didn't you hear what your hubby said last night? Adam already has a problem with trust. He'll never forgive me and even if he did, he wouldn't trust me after this. There's no point in calling him." There I said it aloud. The very thought that had pummeled my brain, but I'd been able to shove into the recesses of my mind where only spiders spinning their webs had to deal with it.

  "You don't know that unless you talk to him."

  Tears pricked at my eyes. No, I wouldn't cry today. I'd managed to keep tears in check by staying busy, and I'd keep doing that until the hurt lessened.

  A picture of me sitting in a rocker, a cat on my lap, and my silvery hair in a bun while waiting for the pain to diminish flashed into my brain. Lisa should know me better than to try to force this issue with me. She always wanted to talk about problems, but I needed to process it for a while. Even if it took me until my rocking chair days, so I didn't blubber with every word.

  "I'm not going to talk about this now. I'll be in the break room watering the plant." I spun like a tornado and stormed down the hall toward the one thing that could always bring me comfort. A plant.

  I went straight to the break room sink. Yes, that's it, keep busy. I'd done a great job of avoiding the pain so far, I could keep it up. I had a handle on this. Even when people like Lisa brought up Adam's name and the raw emotions tried to slither back to the surface, I could force them back down.

  I turned on the water and watched the watering can fill.

  The pain crawled up, inching its way clear of my control, wanting to erupt like a blender without the lid on top. I kept my eyes on the water and felt my resolve not to cry over Adam dissolve. It would be so easy to let go and have a pity party. No! Not here of all places. I could just see Mitch laughing at my tears and mocking my emotions. I sniffed back the tears threatening to escape. They kept coming.

  C'mon, Paige. Get it together. Don't do this here.

  Turning off the water, the sound of footsteps heading my way became clear. Lisa was probably coming to nag me more about calling Adam. I grabbed a scratchy paper towel and wiped my nose.

  "How're the plants doing?" Mitch asked from behind.

  My back to him, I shrugged and kept quiet. I couldn't speak for fear of my voice giving away my emotions. I'd just ignore him until he went away.

  "What? Paige Turner has nothing to say?" His tone was lighthearted and teasing, like my old friend would have acted, taking me even closer to losing it.

  With my head down, I crossed the room to the plant, making it clear that I had nothing to say to him. He usually responded well to the cold shoulder giving a colder one back.

  He came around to the other side of the plant and stood as if waiting for me to say something. I looked at his large boots, clean and shiny. Why did he have to bother me? I came here in hopes of hearing him spill details that would help me solve the murder, but now it seemed like he'd turned my tactic on me.

  Go away, I telegraphed.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, his tone all brotherly. "Are you upset about last night?"

  Couldn't he at least be his usual mean self? His warm tone only served to encourage the tears.

  Stop, Paige. Do not let him see you cry.

  "I'm not leaving until you talk to me."

  I tipped the watering can.

  "Paige?" He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Paige, what is it?"

  I looked up, and a tear dripped off my cheek.

  "Aw, no, not tears." His hand shot into the thick shock of hair as it usually did when he was uncomfortable.

  "You asked for it," I blubbered and raised the watering can. "You couldn't just leave me alone for once. No, you had to stick your big nose in and push me."

  "You mean you're crying because I wouldn't leave you alone?"

  I peered at his face, all scrunched in worry. He had the look of a man who was forced to carry a woman's purse. Or maybe a guy who'd changed his first stinky diaper. That thought was the therapy I needed. I laughed. First small little giggles, but then blossoming into an out of control belly laugh that bordered on hysteria. I was totally and completely out of control. Standing in the police station in front of my biggest adversary in town and mentally falling apart.

  I clutched my sides and looked at Mitch. His face ran the gamut of emotions and settled on bewildered. At least he wasn't mocking my emotions or tears.

  "Sorry," I said and sniffled. "I didn't get much sleep last night, and I'm kind of emotional."

  "Kind of? I'd say basket case describes you."

  Normally a comment like that from Mitch would send me into a battle of sarcastic comebacks, but his tone was so sincere, I didn't know what to make of him. "So, did you want to talk to me, or was this an attempt at small talk?"

  His eyes tightened as if I'd offended him. He seemed to count to ten then said, "Actually I would like to talk to you if you have a few minutes."

  "Okay, shoot."

  He crossed the room to the counter. "I'm getting some coffee. You want some?"

  I turned to face him. "Sounds good."

  Reaching for a mug, he paused. "Man, you really did a number on that cheek. Lisa told me all about it yesterday."

  "At least I did this to myself, not like Olivia Jacobs."

  He pulled down two mugs and poured. "You know her very well?"

  "Only met her once. Why?"

  "I thought maybe you could talk to her about reporting the jerk. Friends can sometimes get a ba
ttered woman to make the move away from the guy controlling her." He shrugged as if tucking away the issue he couldn't do anything about. He handed the white mug to me. "Let's go to my office."

  His office? What happened to the friendly chat? Did he know about the bugs? We walked, and I ran the last few days through my filter. Had he found something in my apartment after I left? Was he going to arrest me for obstructing justice because I took Gary's computer? Had I done anything else that might get me hauled off to the police chief's office?

  What a week. First the principal, now the chief.

  "Go ahead and sit." He gestured toward a side chair with worn leather where I imagined all kinds of criminals had been grilled by Mitch. He sat behind his desk and cupped the mug between his large hands. He seemed nervous and not at all like the bossy chief. "I've been thinking about what happened in high school."

  Seriously, high school? I'm having a breakdown over Adam and this guy wants to talk about high school? I held up my free hand. "You called me in here to rehash something neither of us needs to talk about?"

  "That's the thing, Paige. I do. I need to talk about it. After Picklemann was murdered, I started going to Fellowship Church in McMinnville, and the whole thing is starting to bother me."

  "You? Church?" My mouth fell open.

  "I know it's a shock, but you can close your mouth." He laughed, but let it fall off rapidly. "Picklemann's death kinda got me thinking about my mortality. I had a lot of questions. So I started going to church. The whole God thing makes sense to me, now. Guess I just had to realize I'm not immortal."

  "Well, good. Not the immortal thing, but going to church."

  "Anyway, last Sunday, the sermon was about forgiveness. How we have to forgive everyone who wronged us."

  I shot to my feet sloshing coffee over the rim. "Oh, I get it. You go to church and suddenly think you need to forgive me for making you jump off that bridge. Well, don't blame me. It was your decision to jump."

  "Wait a minute, Paige. That's not it at all. Please sit down so I can explain."