“That’s right. Enjoy,” the waitress said cheerfully before moving off.
“I only wanted a salad, not the whole garden.” Bree stared at the small scarecrow set in the middle of the bowl. “If a crow shows up, I’m out of here.”
“Not a chance. I’m not letting you go anywhere until you tell me about your date with Cole.”
Bree sighed. “I told you, it wasn’t a date. All we did was go out to dinner Friday night. Two friends sharing a meal. That was all.”
“Did he pay or did you?”
“He paid.”
“Then it was a date,” Greta said triumphantly. “So tell me everything that happened.”
“Let’s see.” Bree looked lost in thought as she tapped her forefinger against her chin. “I had scallops. He had steak. We also had a very nice wine. During dinner, we discussed our mutual work. After dinner, he took me home.” Not for anything was she going to disclose that they’d gone for a drive, or what had happened. Or that she’d learned the man’s kisses were not only highly illegal, but left her wanting a great deal more.
She felt there were some things that didn’t need to be shared. Especially Cole kissing her and her kissing him back. She willed herself not to blush as the memories danced through her head.
Greta lowered her voice. “You discussed work? My God, you have been out of the dating arena too long. You can discuss his work by asking him about it and then listening as if it’s the most fascinating subject in the world, of course. Cole did write some incredible stories from all over the world. And your work is fascinating. Speaking of which—” she arched an eyebrow “—what’s the reason for your looking like a playground accident?” She picked up the shaker and sprinkled pepper over her salad.
“It wasn’t anything unusual. In fact, it happens more than you think. A driver takes a corner too sharp and fast. Or he weaves across lanes. The runner is either hit, or if he’s lucky, just run off the road. I was running against traffic, but this truck seemed to sneak up on me. Luckily, Jinx’s reflexes are faster than mine and he realized what was going on. He caught my attention in time.” She stabbed a romaine leaf. “It’s just one of the hazards of running out in the open like that.”
“You were running against traffic, so the driver would have seen you. There’s no excuse for what he did,” Greta guessed correctly. “It can’t be deliberate because you haven’t been in town long enough to make any enemies. Even though I understand David is now at the top of Tim Holloway’s list. And not a list of his best friends, either.”
“All because David wanted to explain proper manners to the school bully. I can give you a logical reason for my accident. Someone I once arrested in L.A. was out this way for a drive. He happened to see me and saw his chance to get even,” Bree said, tongue in cheek.
Greta’s opinion of Bree’s deduction was less than complimentary.
“Stranger things have happened,” Bree countered. “I heard of a burglary detective who was down in Texas on a fishing trip. One night in a bar, he gets friendly with this other guy who’s also down there fishing. The other guy keeps insisting he knows him, just can’t figure out from where. Turns out the detective had arrested him five years before for a rash of burglaries.”
“Sounds like some of my dates. And I don’t think you’re writing this off as an accident. I saw you when you came in Saturday and you seemed pretty angry at this guy.”
“Of course I was mad. I ended up eating dirt,” Bree grumbled. “Let me tell you, if I hear of it happening to anyone else, I’ll track him down. Until then, it’s just one of those things that can happen on country roads.” Bree used her fork for emphasis.
Greta glanced to her left. “Well, well, well,” she murmured. “Look who we have here. Think we should invite him in?”
Bree followed her glance, to find Cole standing at the window looking in at them. He stood in his usual semislouch with his hands jammed in his pants pockets. His head was cocked to one side, while his crooked smile was guaranteed to fan flames in more than one woman.
Right now that lethal smile was directed right at Bree.
Her stomach felt as if she’d suddenly fallen off the roof of a tall building.
“Just dinner, huh? Nothing special?” Greta smiled and waved at him. She gestured for him to come in and join them.
“Don’t do that!” Bree muttered.
“Too late.” She smirked.
“Ladies.” Cole looked at Greta, then swung his gaze to Bree. “Hey there, Slugger.”
“I did not hit that referee,” she said between clenched teeth.
Greta’s head swiveled from one to the other. Her eyes were alight with interest as she rested her chin on her laced fingers.
“He thought you were going to hit him, along with arresting him for giving bad calls.”
“I have never used my position to intimidate someone,” she insisted. “Especially an idiot like Norman, our so-called umpire, who wouldn’t have appreciated the irony.”
“I’ve got to tell you this woman has an incredible vocabulary,” Cole told Greta. “And in deference to all the kids, she didn’t use one profane word. I was impressed.” Without waiting for further invitation, he sat down in the chair next to Bree.
“Hey, Cole, your cheeseburger will be ready in no time.” One of the waitresses breezed by.
“Thanks, Diane.” Still smiling, he turned to Bree. “How are your legs?”
“The usual. Healing and itching. How about you?”
“No one tried to run me off the road.” He shot a quick glance at Greta, who unabashedly eavesdropped. “Any suspects in sight?”
“Not a one. Why, did you come up with any ideas?” Bree picked up her glass of iced tea.
“Nope.” He sat back as a plate of food was deposited in front of him.
“Look at the time.” Greta made a show of studying her watch. “I’ve got to get back to the shop.” She pulled out her wallet.
Cole shook his head. “My treat.”
“Thank you, darling,” she drawled. She turned to Bree. “Keep me informed.” With a wave of her hand she was gone.
“You going to have some free time anytime soon?” Cole asked, keeping his voice low.
“I just had some.” Bree nibbled on her salad. “Why?”
“There’s someone I’d like to talk to and I was hoping you could go with me. Do you mind?” He accepted the ketchup bottle she passed to him. “Thanks.”
“Any reason why you feel you need someone with you, or are you hoping I can do something in an official sense?” she asked, stealthily filching a French fry from his plate.
“I thought you might think of something I don’t. Interested?”
She paused. “I don’t go on duty tomorrow until early afternoon, so my morning is free.”
“I’ll even buy breakfast,” he offered.
“How early are we talking about?” she asked suspiciously.
“Eight.”
“Then I’ll take the offer of breakfast.” Bree stole another fry and dipped it in the pool of ketchup decorating a corner of Cole’s plate. “And brief me on who we’re going to see.”
“Tomorrow,” he promised. “I’ll pick you up about quarter to eight for breakfast and mission preparation.”
She smiled sardonically. “Be still my heart.”
“I guess I should have specified I didn’t want my breakfast served in a cardboard container.” Bree glared at Cole.
“Are you kidding? It’s the best place in town for that first meal of the day. I really like how they serve the hash browns as little cubes,” he said, popping one into his mouth. “And French toast sticks.” He picked one up and dipped it in syrup.
She sipped her coffee. “When I get up early when I don’t have to, I expect more. But since you’re paying I’ll make sure to order seconds. So wipe the syrup off your face and tell me about where we’re going.”
“We’re going to visit Estelle Timmerman,” he replied.
Bree
recognized the name. “I met her the day I gave a talk at the senior center.”
“Her husband died about ten months ago,” he continued. “Choked on a piece of liver.”
“I hate to tell you this, Becker, but it happens,” she said. “If no one in the vicinity knows the Heimlich maneuver, the poor person doesn’t have a chance.”
“I agree with you but for some reason Estelle doesn’t think so,” he replied. “She’s positive something went wrong. She called me and asked me to check into it. She said if anyone would know what to do, I would. That’s why we’re going to talk to her.”
Bree shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense Cole. Unless,” she paused, “she’s using it as an excuse to talk to us.”
He nodded. “I thought that, too. That’s why I told her we’d come by. If nothing else, maybe we can find a way to assure her her husband’s death wasn’t intentional.”
When Bree met Estelle Timmerman again she was once more struck by how sad she was.
And how tiny. The woman couldn’t have hit the five-foot mark if she stood on her toes. She wore a flowered housedress and pink fluffy slippers, and had her gray hair pinned up in a bun. She said a few chirpy words to a parakeet housed in a cage, then led them into the living room.
“Are you certain you wouldn’t like some tea?” she asked them as they sat on a turquoise couch that Bree thought could have come straight off a 1960s movie set.
“No, thank you, Mrs. Timmerman.” Bree smiled. “We just finished our breakfast.”
The elderly lady’s head bobbed up and down in understanding. “I always enjoy a few cups in the morning,” she confided, holding a paper-thin china cup.
“Mrs. Timmerman, you said you wanted to talk about your husband,” Cole prodded.
“Yes, my Bernie.” She turned misty-eyed. “We were married for fifty-six years. I still miss him.” She pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed her eyes.
“I understand.” Bree reached across and covered her hand. “I lost my husband a year ago.”
“Ah, then you do know what I feel.” She smiled sadly. “And you’re so young.” After a moment she continued. “Bernie didn’t want me to worry, you see.”
“Worry about what, Mrs. Timmerman?” Cole asked gently.
“Please call me Estelle. He didn’t want me to worry about a thing,” she replied. “Bernie always took care of everything. He said that was his job, while mine was to take care of the house and our children. We have three. Two daughters and a son. But Bernie started to worry about things.”
“What type of things, Estelle?” Bree pressed. “Did he ever tell you exactly what worried him?”
Estelle lowered her head and stared into her teacup for a long time. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” she whispered. “It was a secret.”
Bree and Cole exchanged glances.
“I understand you feel uncomfortable revealing a confidence,” Bree said slowly. “But sometimes it’s good to talk about things that might bother you. And this secret bothers you, doesn’t it?”
Estelle looked off to the side, as if she was listening to someone else.
“It does bother me,” she whispered finally. “I had to promise not to tell anyone. But now, I feel I did wrong in making that promise. That’s why I called Mr. Becker. He writes lovely editorials, you know. I particularly enjoyed the one he wrote saying that just because people were over the age of sixty didn’t mean they couldn’t be active. That’s when I decided to go on a cruise. I’d never been on one before, but my neighbor, Katherine Carter, had and said they’re lovely. I took one to Alaska and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”
“I’m glad to know my editorial helped,” Cole said sincerely. If he was impatient for the elderly woman to impart her information, he didn’t show it.
Bree silently congratulated him on his forbearance. She decided he must have come up against subjects who weren’t easy to interview, ones who needed to be coaxed a word at a time. A bare nod of his head told her to continue.
“Have you done anything else other than the cruise?” she asked.
“Oh yes. I take classes at the senior center,” the elderly woman replied. “And I’ve gone on a few day trips to Laughlin. Renee is always after me to go with one of the groups.”
“I’m sure Bernie would be glad to know you keep busy,” Bree told her. “I can’t imagine he would want you unhappy.”
“It was just that Bernie worried what would happen to me when he was gone,” Estelle explained. “That’s why it happened.”
Cole leaned forward. “Why what happened, Estelle?”
Her head snapped up as she heard the phone ring. “Would you excuse me? That could be my doctor’s office about a prescription I need.” She got up and walked into the kitchen.
Bree and Cole exchanged glances as they heard Estelle’s chirpy greeting, then silence. When she returned, her expression was stiff.
“Was it your doctor?” Bree asked.
“No, it was a wrong number,” she mumbled, sitting down.
Bree leaned forward and picked up the elderly woman’s hand. She worried when she found it ice-cold to the touch.
“Estelle?” she gently prompted, rubbing her hand between her own. “Are you all right? Is there something we can do to help?”
“No, I’m fine.” Estelle licked her lips. “I’m sorry, I forgot what we were talking about.” She touched her forehead with her fingertips. “I forget so many things nowadays,” she tittered nervously. “Old age, I guess.”
Cole started to say something, but Bree shook her head.
“Estelle, are you sure you’re feeling all right?” she asked softly. “Do you need me to call anyone?”
“No, but I do think I need to lie down.” She refused to look at them. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Bree’s warm smile belied the frustration she felt inside. She’d hoped for something. Even a tiny hint. “You still have the magnet I gave you, right?” She noted the woman’s nod. “Then if you ever feel the need to talk to someone, please don’t hesitate to call me. No matter what time of day or night, no matter what you need to talk about, call me. Will you do that, Estelle?”
The woman’s lips were pursed together as if she was afraid they’d tremble and reveal her agitation. She nodded but said nothing.
Bree touched her shoulder as she and Cole left the house.
“You know what happened in there, don’t you?” he said, as he held the truck door open for Bree. “Estelle lied to us. That wasn’t a wrong number. Someone found out we were here and called her with the intention of scaring the hell out of her.” He looked up and down the street, as if he was hoping to see the culprit. “Dammit!” He pounded the top of the vehicle with his fist. “There’s no denying Bernie’s death was an accident. So why all the secrecy?”
“Because something has made her afraid,” she said. “Talk about lousy timing. For all we know, she could think his death was an accident, but she used it as an excuse to get us to come here. Then she goes into the kitchen to answer the phone. When she comes back, she’s so afraid she tells a blatant lie and asks us to leave. Which means she knows something important. And now we won’t know what that is,” she murmured.
Cole’s expression was somber as he slid behind the wheel. “I don’t like it, Bree. There was no reason to frighten a sweet lady like Estelle.”
“Yes, there was, Cole,” she said quietly, turning to him. “An excellent reason. Why would someone call her and spook her so much that they knew she wouldn’t say anything more to us? They’re afraid we’re getting too close to the truth.”
Chapter 11
“Tell me something, Fitzpatrick. Do we not give you enough work?” Sheriff Holloway stood at her desk. “Now I realize we’re not a super crime capital like L.A. We don’t get all that many big-time felonies like the ones you’ve investigated in the past. But I figured our little misdemeanors would be enough to keep you occupied.”
Bree
experienced a sinking feeling as she looked up into the face of her fierce-eyed superior. He looked as if he was ready to throttle her. She issued a hand command to Jinx, who’d straightened up the moment Roy’s harsh voice washed over them. The dog lay back down, but his gaze never left the man looming over Bree.
She had only to look at her superior’s face to know she was in big trouble.
“Actually, Sheriff, I’m able to keep myself more than occupied,” she said, mentally wondering what sin she was allegedly guilty of.
He leaned over, planting his palms on the top of her desk, not caring that papers shifted every which way. Bree grabbed a few pages before they fell to the floor.
“Then why don’t you tell me something? Why don’t you tell me why you’re wasting your time studying closed cases when you already have more than enough to do?” he demanded, leaning down until they were almost nose to nose. “I don’t know about you, but I call looking through old cases a waste of taxpayers’ money. Don’t you?” His words washed over her like acid.
Several curses flew through Bree’s head. This was the first time she’d seen the sheriff angry. That she was his target wasn’t pleasant.
“I don’t believe I have ever wasted taxpayers’ money, Sheriff,” she said carefully. “I was merely familiarizing myself with past cases to get a feel for what’s gone on in the county. I also did it on my own time. I can’t imagine why this was even brought to your attention.”
Roy straightened up. “Maybe that’s why I check every officer’s computer log. To make sure they’re not getting on the Internet for other purposes or to play games. When yours shows you going through closed cases instead of open ones, I have to wonder why you’re bothering with them. If you need to familiarize yourself with what goes on in the county, look to current cases. Maybe you can see something others haven’t and we can get those cases closed. Wouldn’t you agree that’s a better plan?” he growled in her face. “I gotta tell you, Fitzpatrick, the last I looked, we have plenty of open cases you can deal with. Hell, the next thing we know you’ll be turning molehills into the freakin’ Swiss Alps!”
Small-Town Secrets Page 17