When The Rooster Kills (A Rainy Day Mystery Book 2)

by Jeff Shelby

  I pointed at Tori. “She locked him in there!”

  Tori glared at me but it was Leslie who spoke up.

  “We found out he’s been two-timing us,” she announced.

  The sheriff dropped the lock. “Is that true, son?”

  Shawn’s cheeks flushed red. “I can explain. I can explain everything!”

  Sheriff Lewis made a disgusted noise, something between a grunt and a growl. He dropped the lock and turned away.

  “Well, looks like we’re done here,” he announced, wiping his hands on his pants.

  I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

  He nodded. “Leslie’s been found, this guy is behind bars—or a fence, I guess—for deceiving these young women, and you, Ms. Day”—he fished out his pad of paper again—“are about to receive a formal written warning regarding your driving skills.”

  “That’s it?” I asked in disbelief.

  His brown wrinkled. “Well, I could write you a ticket if you really want one, I guess.”

  “No,” I practically shouted. “I mean, that’s it? Everything is said and done with? You’re not pressing charges for the kidnapping or locking him up or trespassing or anything?”

  The sheriff reassessed the scene, taking in the girls, locked-up Shawn, and me. “I don’t see any reason to,” he said. “No harm done. Leslie’s fine and that scoundrel is right where he belongs.”

  I cradled my head in my hands and said nothing.

  “I suppose I should get you home to Miss Vivian,” the sheriff said to Leslie. “She’s been awfully worried about you.”

  “I’ll bet,” Leslie muttered.

  “Come on,” the sheriff said, a little more urgency in his voice. He glanced at his watch. “If we leave now, I’ll make it home in time for the housewives.”

  I looked up. Housewives? He had more than one?

  He sensed my confusion.

  “The Real Housewives of New Jersey,” he clarified. “Mighty fine show, that is.”

  I nodded wearily. Sure it was.

  “What about him?” I asked, pointing to Shawn.

  All three of them looked at him disdainfully. Tori was still clutching the bag of almost empty Oreos and I had a sneaking suspicion she wanted to launch the rest of them at his head.

  “What about him?” the sheriff asked.

  “Are you going to let him out?”

  The sheriff scratched his head. “Oh. Sure.” He addressed Leslie and Tori. “Which one of you has the key?”

  Tori reluctantly produced it and the sheriff took it from her. He handed it to me.

  “Why are you giving this to me?”

  He shrugged. “You seem to be the only one concerned about him. And I have a show to catch.”

  THIRTY EIGHT

  “Thanks for rescuing me.”

  I gave Shawn a withering look. “Don’t thank me. I don’t want your thanks.”

  I’d unlocked the coop as soon as Sheriff Lewis and the girls left. Leslie and Tori had exchanged tearful hugs before going their separate ways. Maybe they were going to form a support group to get over Shawn’s infidelity. Nothing was outside the realm of possibility after what I’d just experienced.

  “I’m sorry about all of this,” Shawn was saying. I’d gotten the lock undone but the minute he stepped out of the coop, the rooster had decided to attack. Maybe he was angered by Shawn’s transgressions, too.

  We’d both made a run for it, racing past the willow tree and the ramshackle house, finding our way back to the driveway and then the road where I’d left my car. The rooster gave up its chase about halfway, crowing and strutting a little before turning back toward the coop.

  “Me, too,” I said.

  I was.

  I was sorry I’d ever gotten involved. An entire town had been waylaid by a girl who’d gone missing, a friend of mine had been wrongfully targeted as the suspect, the sheriff had bumbled the entire investigation, and the person responsible was walking scot-free. And had even somehow magically become friends with the person she’d abducted.

  The only thing I wasn’t sorry for was suspecting Shawn. Sure, he hadn’t been responsible for Leslie’s disappearance, but he was a no-good sleaze for other reasons. I was glad my suspicions about him had at least been correct.

  I dug my keys out of my pocket and unlocked my car.

  “So, I guess this is it,” Shawn said.

  I opened the driver’s side door.

  “I don’t supposed I could hitch a ride into town with you?” he asked hopefully. “Seeing as how I’m stranded out here.”

  I smiled. “Not a chance.”

  His face fell and I turned the key in the ignition and sped off, picking up speed, making sure I was going ten miles over the speed limit so I couldn’t be reported as a reckless driver.

  I just wanted to go home, to put the day—no, the entire week—behind me. But I knew there was one place I needed to stop.

  The street was deserted when I pulled my car to the curb. I walked up the sidewalk and rapped the door. After a minute, it opened.

  Mikey stood at the threshold. He was still wearing his work clothes and he smelled like French fries.

  “Sorry to bug you,” I told him. “I just wanted to let you know that Leslie is safe.”

  His entire face lit up. “She is? How do you know?”

  Quickly, I told him what had happened. At one point he asked me if I wanted to come inside but I said no. I just wanted to let him know that she’d been found and, just as importantly, that he was not a suspect.

  “I’m glad she’s okay,” he said softly.

  I nodded. “Me, too. I’m not okay with how she chose to handle things, but ultimately, that wasn’t my call.”

  “It’s typical Leslie,” he said, a small smile on his face.

  “How so?”

  “Well, think about it,” he said. “She was ticked at this Tori girl for taking her. But it wasn’t like she hurt her. Sure, it sounds like the living conditions were less than great—”

  “You have no idea,” I interrupted, thinking of the layers of mud and straw inside the derelict coop. Not to mention the murderous rooster that patrolled the place.

  “Okay, but she was fine. She had food to eat and she was never in any danger.” He stopped, thinking. “But what Shawn did? He hurt her. She risked a lot for him, coming back home and asking for money, all because he asked her to. And to find out that he was being unfaithful, that this other girl was sort of waiting in the wings, and that neither of them knew about the other? Now that’s going to ruffle Leslie’s feathers. In a big way.”

  I thought about what he said. It didn’t make sense to me; I’d want them both to suffer. But I could see why Leslie had made the split-second decision to align herself with Tori. They’d both been victims: Shawn’s victims. And, in her own twisted way of thinking, she’d make the generous decision to ensure that Tori wouldn’t suffer anything else at Shawn’s hands, including taking the blame for Leslie’s disappearance.

  Upon reflection, it had been a noble thing to do. Stupid, but noble.

  “Anyway, I just thought you should know,” I said. “I won’t keep you.”

  His smile grew bigger. “Thanks for telling me.”

  I fiddled with my keys, trying to figure out how to ask my next question. It was none of my business, but I was curious. “So, what happens now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I felt the heat creep into my cheeks and I was glad the sky had finally grown dark and that the porch light was not on. “With you and Leslie.”

  “Oh.” He glanced at his feet. “I don’t really know. I guess I just wait and see if she sticks around town or if she leaves.”

  “I don’t think she has anywhere to go,” I told him. “Now that she and Shawn are done, I mean.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, well, I’m sure she’ll need some time to adjust. She’s probably hurting pretty badly right now.”

  My heart swelled a little at his
words. If I’d been twenty years younger—okay, thirty—Mikey would be exactly the kind of guy I would have fallen for. He was sweet and kind and always seemed to have his head and heart in the right place.

  “So I’ll be there for her,” he finished. “As a friend or whatever she needs me to be.”

  I couldn’t help it. I sighed.

  “You’re one of the good ones, Mikey,” I said. “And any girl would be lucky to have you.”

  His smile stretched across his entire face and he winked at me. “Right back at you, Rainy. Any guy would be lucky to have you. And I have it on good authority that there are two guys right now who really want that honor.”

  The heat in my cheeks raged like a wildfire.

  Because I knew he was absolutely right.

  THIRTY NINE

  “Just so I’m clear. You are asking me out, correct?”

  I was standing on Gunnar Forsythe’s porch, the loaf of blueberry bread in my hands. The sky was black, twinkling with a blanket of stars, and cicadas and crickets chorused together, their song rising to a crescendo. My palms were covered in sweat but I couldn’t exactly wipe them anywhere; not while holding a 1-lb hunk of baked dough, anyway.

  It was an hour after I’d talked to Mikey and I’d come directly home and downed two glasses of wine. I might have been a little buzzed, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Mikey’s words.

  Any guy would be lucky to have you.

  I’d gotten involved with looking for Leslie because I’d been lonely. I wanted friends in this new town, and I’d decided that Sophia and Vivian might be a good place to start.

  I was wrong.

  I had friends already.

  I had Mikey, who was one of the sweetest kids I’d ever met, and who was quickly feeling like a substitute for my own grown kids, scattered near and far.

  I had Declan, who was always willing to listen and who always had good, sound advice for me.

  And I had Gunnar who, despite his penchant for arrogance and assumption, was always ready to help. There wasn’t a situation I’d been in when he hadn’t dropped everything to come to my aid.

  The only problem was, my two closest friends—Declan and Gunnar—were also men I was attracted to. I loved Declan’s earnestness and sincerity, his goofiness and his boyish good looks. And I loved Gunnar’s manliness, his take-charge attitude. It didn’t hurt that his rugged handsomeness made me a little weak in the knees.

  But I couldn’t focus on those things right now. There were more important things at stake.

  “Rainy?”

  I snapped back to attention.

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  I chose my words carefully. “I’m inviting you over for dinner next week,” I said. “As a friend.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “A friend?”

  I nodded firmly. “Yes.”

  “Just as a friend?”

  I smiled. “For now. Because friends are what I need right now.”

  Gunnar studied me, a smile playing on his lips. His five o’clock shadow was almost golden in the soft glow of his porch light, and his eyes looked more green than hazel. My heart hiccupped a little as his eyes drifted from my eyes to my lips and then back again.

  “Fair enough,” he finally said.

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Let’s be friends, Rainy Day.”

  He took the bread from my hands and our fingers touched and electricity jolted through me.

  “For now,” he added.

  THE END

  Thanks for reading WHEN THE ROOSTER KILLS!

  If you enjoyed the book, please consider taking a few moments to write a review on Amazon. Reviews are incredibly helpful in spreading the word about any book you've enjoyed!

  If you'd like you to make sure you don't miss out on the next Rainy Day book or any other new releases from Jeff Shelby, you can sign up for his monthly newsletter right here.