I didn’t remember anything in the grass other than Coach Martin. But then again, I’d been in a fog since seeing him there.
“If it’s an older car or truck,” Kate continued, “then this is probably a dead end. But anything new is going to stick out. And they’ll have to get it fixed eventually. Otherwise, the police will know what they’re looking for.”
“What if they don’t have to drive it?” I leaned in close. “What if they have another car? I heard that Calista Martin wasn't driving her minivan yesterday. She was driving her husband’s truck. Do you think that could be something?”
“It could be,” Kate agreed. “Means. Motive. And opportunity. It sounds like the suspect list might be a whole lot shorter than fifty.”
TO: Foodie Allison
FROM: Kinsey
SUBJECT: Details???
Allie,
What’s up? I need all the details on this Coach Martin case. Cough ‘em up!
I’m serious,
Kinsey
7
My phone buzzed as I settled in with Mister Netflix that night.
No run tomorrow. But I’m game for dinner if you are?
A few additional texts later, we settled on a gluttonous meal at Piggies BBQ. I spent the whole of the day eating like a bird in anticipation—the fitted bridesmaid dress came to mind.
But when the time came to eat, my stomach was in knots. I wondered how Javi would take my suspicions of Calista Martin. Then there was the matter of the cooking class. Would he want to go?
It seemed like every week we found more time to spend together than the last, and honestly, I was scared that he might be getting tired of me.
But those trepidations waned over the course of the day. By the time the BBQ smell hit me, as I opened the car door in the parking lot, I was more than ready to see Javi.
The pink shack was inviting as always. Maybe I will be able to eat after all, I thought. The summersaults of my stomach were already a thing of the past.
Then my phone buzzed.
Running late…
I knew it. He is getting tired of me.
…
Those little dots appeared as Javi typed on the other end of the line. I was seconds away from rejection. Is it still getting stood up when you’re going as friends—when he texts you to tell you he’s not coming?
Go ahead and order me a half rack of ribs and a couple of sides. Be there shortly.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t as bad as I expected. Javi was on his way. I could spend some time on social media being social and call it work.
Inside, it wasn’t just the smell of barbecue that was overwhelming. I was bombarded with pig paraphernalia. It was like someone had driven cross country, stopping at every yard sale there was just to find these little tchotchkes—and that didn’t include the merchandise. Along the wall, there were Piggies T-shirts—I Kissed a Pig and I Liked It—koozies, stickers, and even a cornhole game with hand-painted pigs.
I waited in line to place our order. Piggies wasn’t the type of place to have a real menu. The specials were listed on a chalkboard sign behind the counter. To the side of the chalkboard was the regular menu listing the small array of meats and the larger array of sides. Besides every cut of pig imaginable, there was chopped brisket, and pulled chicken. The side dishes included things like green beans and coleslaw but also more interesting fare like sweet potato casserole and bread pudding. Both were sweeter than molasses but not quite right for the dessert menu, which only listed one item—banana pudding.
“How ya doin’, darlin’?” the cashier greeted me. “Whatcha drinking this evenin’?”
“Sweet tea, I guess” I said. “Oh, and my friend would like a water.”
“Honey, you know there ain’t no one with you.”
“He’s on his way,” I said, smiling.
“And what do you mean ‘you guess’? You either want sweet tea or you don’t.”
“I’ve got a wedding coming up. I’m a bridesmaid. I want to make sure I fit in that dress.”
The cashier, Bev on her name tag, lowered her voice. “Then what you doin’ eatin’ here?” she asked.
“It’s where my friend wanted,” I said.
“Friend, huh,” she said. “And what will this friend be having tonight?”
I told Bev Javi’s order, then got the Pot Bellied Spud special for myself.
“Good choices,” she said, ringing me up and sliding the ticket on the growing stack at the kitchen window. She gave me our drinks, and I found a bench seat to wait for our order to be called.
For a few minutes, I was lost in my phone. I liked every food related plate on Instagram. Then I took some personal time on Facebook. My fingertips found their way to Coach Martin’s profile where I scanned pictures of him and his wife, their kids, and their friends.
I must’ve been dead to the world because Bev had sauntered over. She set down two plastic baskets on the table.
“We been callin’ your number for five minutes,” she sassed.
“Sorry,” I said.
“It’s all right. I see you’re still waitin’ on—”
She didn’t finish her sentence. The door swung open, and we both were caught like deer in headlights as Javi rushed into the restaurant.
“So sorry I'm late,” he said, brushing past Bev.
“Friend, my rosy red backside,” I heard Bev murmur as she walked away.
Javi cocked his head back and shrugged. “What’s that about?”
“No clue.” I smiled.
Javi looked as handsome as ever. His hair was freshly trimmed, his cheeks too.
“I know you've got a lot on your plate right now,” I told him.
“You mean my metaphorical plate or this monstrosity?” he asked.
“Both.”
We dug in. Javi was halfway through his ribs when I got up the courage to lead into my questioning. First things first, the cooking class.
“I have a question for you,” I started.
“What's that?”
“You can say no. I mean I don’t want you to say no. But you totally can if you need to. Plates being full and all that.”
“Allie, is it about the case?”
“No, no. Not about the case,” I said.
“All right. Now, you have me worried. What’s up?”
“I have this work thing on Sunday. And I’d really appreciate it if you’d join me.”
“Is it like a virtual thing? I got suckered into a Facebook party once. That thing was weird.”
“No, not virtual. It's a cooking class at The Southern Depot.”
Javier smiled. His dimple clicked into place. “I would love to cook with you, Allie.”
“You’re sure?” I asked. “It won’t be weird? After the whole Jessica thing and Miller and all that?”
I wanted to be sensitive to him. I wasn’t sure if he got hung up on his cases like I got hung up on, well, everything.
“Not in the least,” he said. “Miller and I are on good terms. And I can hold my own in the kitchen. It’ll be fun.”
“Great,” I exclaimed. “It's a date.”
“Yeah. It's a date.” He smiled back at me.
Now for the tricky part. I wasn't sure how to broach the subject, but I had to. If my suspicions were right, then Coach Martin’s accident wasn’t an accident at all.
“Now that that's settled,” I said. “I need to talk to you about something else. It is related to the case.”
His face turned serious. Cop mode. It made me want to confess everything to him. But before I could he began to speak, he said, “Is this to do with Calista Martin’s car? About the accident?”
“You… you know about her car?”
“I do. How do you know about it?”
“I, uh, I don’t,” I said honestly. “I just know she didn’t drive it to church.”
Javi shook his head. “Of course.”
He didn’t look mad at m
e. Instead, he seemed impressed. But he didn’t divulge anything else. I was going to have to probe.
“So, she was in an accident?”
“I was at Mrs. Martin’s house just now,” he said. “That's why I was late meeting you. Her car was doing some hiding in that garage... Or so I thought. But she explained the circumstances around her accident. And it’s being investigated right now.”
“The circumstances?” I asked. “Like when she hit Coach Martin with it?”
Javi sighed. “She claims that’s not what caused the damage to her vehicle. Listen, I can't get into details.”
“She claims,” I scoffed. “And you believe her?”
“I'm not sure,” he said. “But it never matters what I believe. The forensics team will come back with something definitive.”
He wasn't wrong. I’d had my own series of missteps when it came to solving mysteries.
We dropped the work talk and picked up the friend talk.
“I’m thinking about going to a movie on Friday,” he said. “There’s a new Marvel movie out. You’re welcome to come with, I mean if you don’t have any other plans.”
I never have other plans, I thought. We’d been to several movies, all of the action and thriller variety.
“Another superhero movie,” I chided, “you don’t get tired of them?”
“Listen,” Javi protested, “you’re talking to a guy who’s toted his childhood comic book collection from place to place since college. If there’s a superhero movie to see, I’m there.”
“Noted.” Javi had lost some swoon points there.
“What would you rather see?” he asked. “You know, I haven’t let you pick, have I?”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
“I haven’t tried to pick,” I said honestly. “Plus, you’ve been the one asking me to come. It’s not fair for me to pick when you do the asking.”
“No,” Javi shook his head, “it’s your turn. You pick. What are we going to see? No flights, no tights. And I don’t really do horror. I’d actually prefer something romantic over that.”
“Romantic it is,” I said, smiling.
8
The next morning, I met Kate for an impromptu cup of coffee.
“I swear, I need to start deducting these drinks from my taxes,” I told Kate. “There’s no way I could work without coffee.”
“Right?” Kate agreed.
We chinked to-go cups.
“Now, spill,” Kate said suggestively. “I know I’ve been in my own little world with Marcus, but I’ve heard the rumors—”
“What rumors?”
“The rumors about you and Detective Handsome. I’m not letting you get away with that just friends line. Now, dish. What’s up?”
“It really is just friends.” I stared down at my coffee cup. I felt like I had a lump in my throat. I was telling Kate the truth. But I wasn’t telling her everything, not about all the things I was feeling inside.
“It started out kind of casual,” I continued. “He invited me to a movie. Then we’ve had dinner a few times. Coffee, when you’re not available, of course.”
“Of course.” Kate smiled.
“We’re going to a movie this Friday.”
“Which one?”
I shrugged. “I get to pick.”
“You’re lucky. Marcus never lets me pick—not at the theater. He says ‘your movies are rental only.’ If that’s true, then they wouldn’t be playing them at the theater.”
“True that!” I agreed. “You could always invite me. How is Marcus, by the way? I think that’s kind of part of it. You guys stopped inviting me places, and Javi keeps inviting me places.”
“Sorry.” Kate pursed her lips. “It’s Luke. He’s got a new girlfriend. I’ve been on double date duty. It’s awful. Or she’s awful. She’s definitely no Allie Treadwell.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry I made it awkward.”
“No, no, it’s really not you. You did the best thing for you. And this thing with Javi, it could turn to something more. You do want it to turn to something more, don’t you?”
Kate knew me well. I nodded. “I do.”
“Speaking of guys, are you bringing one to Melanie’s wedding?”
I grimaced. It was something I’d been mulling over for weeks. Going to movies and dinner together were one thing—going to cooking class was one thing—but a date to a wedding was a whole other ballgame. It was the big leagues even in a serious relationship. Especially in a serious relationship.
“I don’t know. I’m going to be busy the whole day. A date will just—”
“Make things better,” Kate offered.
“So says you. How are things going in the investigation? Anything else come up on Calista Martin? Javi said she was in an accident. But he didn’t give me any details.”
There was a twinkle in Kate’s eye. “Oh, I’ve learned a few things. Not about any accident though.”
“And?”
“I learned that Calista Martin was used to her husband being gone mornings. And nights. And the whole weekend.”
“You think he’s—”
“No. He might be married to Calista, but he’s in a second marriage. This one, with his job. He runs every morning. Then he goes to the high school to lift weights. Then he gets caught up in tapes and his playbook and all that other stuff.”
“But it isn't even football season,” I retorted.
“It’s Georgia. The off season just means it’s not on TV.”
“I guess that’s true. What's really sticking out to me right now is those bruises. She was careful to keep them covered around Javi. I can’t shake the feeling she took the law into her own hands. Maybe he hit her one time too many.”
“I’m sure Javi’s looking into that. This accident she was in,” Kate air quoted, “did he say anything about it? Anything at all?”
“Just that he believes her story.”
“And it didn’t have anything to do with running over her husband?”
“I don’t think it did.”
Kate tightened her lips in a ball, thinking. She gazed up, her eyes darting to something happening outside. Then Kate’s jaw went slack. “It, uh, it looks like we might be able to ask Calista Martin about that accident ourselves.”
The bell on the door rang ever so softly as Calista Martin strolled inside The Java Hutt. Calista was blonde, thin, and she looked like my kind of person. She wasn’t dressed up like Kate was. Instead, she wore exercise capris, a loose-fitting T-shirt that exposed some shoulder, and a nice pair of runners.
She smiled and nodded at me as she made her way to the counter. Though I doubted her smile and nod were meant as an invitation for me to get up and talk to her, I took it as so. After all, I was the person who’d found her husband. Shouldn’t that entitle me to some answers?
“Allie!” Kate hissed. “I was just joking. You shouldn’t—” But Kate was up and behind me, always my go to girl. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not here.”
I took a quick look outside, searching for Mrs. Martin’s minivan—the one that had been in an accident. But no such luck. What I spotted was a snazzy black truck, the one Uncle Billy had mentioned on Sunday.
But while my eyes were busy snooping, my body was doing its own thing—its own Allie Treadwell thing. My leg bumped into a pulled out chair, and Kate had to rescue me from falling ungracefully to the floor.
Nice one, Allie.
“Are you all right?” Calista was the first one to say anything.
I steadied myself, then tucked my hair behind my ear.
“She’s fine,” Kate said. “That chair came out of nowhere.”
“They do that.” Calista laughed. She absentmindedly tugged at the shoulder of her shirt. The bruises were barely visible anymore. If I hadn’t seen them the other day, I wouldn’t have spotted their remnants now. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I am,” I said. “Just clumsy.”
Calista looked as if she wanted to say something but b
it her tongue.
“I should be the one asking if you’re okay,” I said.
“I’m holding it together the best I can,” she said. “For the kids, ya know. If it were just me, I’d be a crumpled heap, I swear it.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Kate said.
“Oh, sorry, this is my friend, Kate McCallister,” I said. “And I’m Allie, if you don’t remember.”
“We’ve met.” Calista gave Kate a slight smile. “And yours is a name I don’t think my family is going to forget, not after what you did for Seth.”
“Really, it was nothing. I was just the first one there.”
“No,” Calista argued, “you weren’t. You were the first one there with decency. The first one there—the one who hit Seth—is a piece of trash and deserves whatever the police give them. I mean, when they’re found.”
“Do you know if the police have any leads?” Kate asked, doing the dirty work for me.
“Wouldn’t you two know more than me?” Calista asked. “Your boyfriend has some weird interest in me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think his visit yesterday was an effort to try to pin this thing on me. On me! If you can believe it.”
“Javi was just doing his due diligence,” I contested. “You have to admit, it’s a little fishy—you’re driving your husband’s truck when your car was in an accident.” Now, I was the one who’d gotten bold.
She looked at me like a deer caught in headlights.
“That detective does tell you everything, doesn’t he? Are you here on some false pretense, wearing a wire or something?”
“No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Calista yanked her coffee cup from the counter before Gertie was able to utter her name. “It’s the same thing in every town we move to,” Calista remarked offhandly, “townies greet us with open arms. But at the first sign of trouble, they’re snooping around, looking for any reason to send us packing. This time, Seth didn’t even have to lose a game.”
The Bitter Bite of Betrayal Page 4