If the Shoe Kills

by Lynn Cahoon

  Emma whined and then I heard her lie down on the bathroom tile. Scooting up, I opened the book and got lost in the story.

  When the water cooled, I climbed out, wrapped up in a terry-cloth robe, and took my reading party to the bed. Covering myself with my quilt, I refilled my wineglass and tapped the empty side of the bed for Emma to come and cuddle.

  After a few more chapters, my stomach growled, and I realized the light in the room had dimmed. The bedside clock read ten after seven. I tended to eat early most nights, wanting to get the chore of cooking and cleaning over quickly to give me more time to indulge in my guilty pleasure, reading. Emma watched me for signs of movement. “Ready to go outside?”

  Emma barked and jumped off the bed, waiting for me at the door. I slipped on a pair of jeans and a tank. By the time I arrived in the kitchen, Emma sat at the back door waiting. I let her outside and went to stand in front of the fridge, waiting for inspiration to hit me.

  Finally, I grabbed the makings for a salad, took a piece of cod from the freezer, and went outside to start up the grill. Back in the kitchen, I wrapped a couple of frozen rolls in foil, greased a second piece of the foil, and seasoned the frozen fish. Then I chopped lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers, filling a large serving bowl. I set the filled bowl aside and took the fish and rolls outside to the grill, grabbing a bottle of water.

  Emma chased a squirrel out of the yard as I opened the door. Once she’d made the back yard safe for her human, she trotted back to the porch and lay by my feet. I felt a little tipsy from the wine, but my mind kept spinning back to Marie and her apology. I wanted to believe her, but something about what she’d said just sounded off. I couldn’t put my finger on the problem though, so the nagging feeling that I’d missed something continued to plague me.

  I finished grilling my dinner, and ate my salad in front of the television, where I found a rerun of an old romantic comedy about a man who could read women’s minds. Of course, just like in real life, he used his superpower for evil, not good, at least not until he found himself in love with the heroine. I curled up on the couch, wishing I could read minds. Then I’d know who killed Ted and who wanted me to keep my nose out of things that didn’t concern me. I fell into a dreamless sleep.

  The next morning, I woke to Emma’s nose in my hair, pushing my head to try to wake me. “Stop that,” I said, but without much determination, causing Emma to change her tactic from nudging me to licking my ear.

  I sat up, my head only pounding a little from the one too many glasses of wine last night. I clicked the remote to the guide to check the time and leaned back on my couch. Five thirty. Too late to get a run in, but I had plenty of time for a shower and some coffee before I walked into town to open the shop promptly at six. Or I would if I got a move on.

  Walking to the kitchen, I let Emma out and started my day. Thursdays were pretty busy at the shop, so I needed to wake up, sooner than later. I put a dark roast into the pot to brew and headed upstairs for a quick, hot shower. By the time I got back downstairs, the coffee was ready. I fed Emma and locked up the house, pouring coffee into a to-go cup. I could walk and drink.

  The morning flew by, customers already waiting outside the door when I arrived. Between coffee and adrenaline, I worked as quickly as possible, handing out flyers for Jackie’s book drive and even taking several cash donations for the project. I grabbed an old biscotti glass jar, taped a flyer to the front, and slipped the money into it. After that, most of my customers dropped their change into the jar. I should have done this days ago. Marketing maven Jackie move over, Jill Gardner had her own moves.

  By the time Toby had come in for his shift, the effect of the caffeine was wearing off. I took a piece of chocolate cheesecake out of the display case and slipped onto one of the bar stools, watching Toby prepare for his shift. We all had our odd habits. I liked my supplies to the left of the espresso machine, Toby liked the cups there. So they moved. Jackie must agree with me, because by the time I came in the next day, they were back in their correct places. I took a bite of the chocolate heaven and sighed.

  “Long night?” Toby leaned over the counter, grinning.

  I nodded, finishing the bite before I responded. “Do I look that bad?”

  Toby shrugged. “I’m too smart to fall for a loaded question like that. I have dated a few women in my time.”

  “I’ve had a bad week.” I polished off the cheesecake. “Is Greg any closer to figuring out who killed Ted? Or is it all confidential now? He didn’t even call last night.”

  Toby straightened and threw a clean towel over his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know. Greg’s looking into something, but he’s being pretty tight-lipped about the whole case. Maybe he’s worried we talk too much.”

  “Everyone’s worried about my close relationships with South Cove’s finest. Between dating Greg and hiring you, I’m supposed to be connected.” I laughed. “Unfortunately both of you hold your cards close to your chest. Especially when the stakes are high.”

  The door to the shop opened, and Greg in his tan police dress shirt and slim Wrangler jeans walked into the shop.

  Toby grinned. “I swear, the guy has superhuman hearing. He’s always showing up when his name’s mentioned.” He waved to Greg. “Hey, boss, want coffee?”

  Greg nodded. “Please. That crap Esmeralda is brewing lately is making me think about giving up coffee.”

  “That’s because she’s been doing green tea in the office pot instead of coffee.” Toby shook his head. “Why do you think I’ve been bringing my own carafe when I show up for my shift? She’s great at dispatch, but she’s sure into that woo-woo stuff.”

  “Green tea isn’t that unusual,” I muttered, pouring Greg’s coffee and getting him a brownie out of the case, as well. “Maybe she thinks you need to cut your caffeine?”

  “Not her decision.” Greg bit into the brownie and groaned. “One of Sadie’s?”

  I nodded and grinned. If Sadie Michaels had been in the market for a husband before Greg and I had started dating, her mad baking skills would have won the battle for the man’s heart. “What brings you out of the station? I haven’t seen you in days.”

  Greg pulled me close. “That’s what brings me out. We need some time together. How about I take you to dinner, then over to the winery for a couple of drinks and some live music? Darla’s got an eighties cover band playing starting tonight.”

  Toby stepped away from the counter. “I’m going in the back to grab some more flyers and to-go boxes. Yell if a customer comes in before I get back.”

  “I can watch the front.” I ran my fingers through Greg’s hair, finger-combing it back into place after his walk from City Hall.

  Toby chuckled. “I’m giving you guys some time alone, why would I want you to work the counter?”

  I heard the door to the back open and then Greg pulled me into a kiss. He paused just before leaning in. “I thought he’d never leave,” he whispered and then his lips covered my own. He tasted like a mix of the chocolate and coffee.

  A few minutes later, Toby reappeared and Greg sipped his coffee, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. He finished his brownie and focused on me. “So, we on for tonight?”

  “I guess. I mean, I was going to wash my hair again, but I could be persuaded to spend some time with you.” I thought about Marie’s visit. Dinner would give me some time to get his take on her declaration of innocence.

  “Glad you could move me up on your list of chores.” He stood and held out his cup to Toby. “Top that off for me, would you? I’ve got a stack of reports to get through before I call it a day.”

  Toby took the cup, dumped the coffee out into the sink, then filled up a new cup with fresh coffee. “I saw the stack of files. You’ll need this.”

  I touched Greg’s arm. “Hold on a second, I’ll walk with you.” I hurried to the back and got my purse, checking my hair in the mirror Jackie had hung on the wall next to the door. The curly mess actually leaned toward cute today
, not just messy.

  When I returned to the front, Greg and Toby had been talking in low voices. When they heard the door, both stood straighter, leaning away from each other, and the silence seemed to echo. I glanced back and forth. “Something I should know?”

  “Work stuff.” Greg took my elbow and guided me to the door. “Later, Toby.”

  “Call me if you need help,” I called back. “Or at least before three. After that, I’m getting ready for a hot date.”

  “TMI, boss, TMI.” Toby chuckled as Greg and I left the shop.

  We headed down the street toward the end of town and my house. We walked in silence for a while, the fall air feeling a little chilly but the sunshine warming my back. The streets still hadn’t been decorated. I guess Tina wasn’t ready to commit to a theme yet. Typically by the week before Thanksgiving, we were knee-deep in Christmas cheer. Not this year. Darla must be going crazy. I’d have to talk to her tonight when Greg and I visited the winery.

  “Tina’s in over her head,” Greg said, seeming to read my thoughts.

  “I feel sorry for Darla. She lived for the festivals.”

  Greg leaned closer. “I hear she’s living for someone else nowadays.”

  Laughing, I squeezed his hand. “You’re a gossip, you know that?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t say who told me. Or what they said.”

  “It’s Matt. He’s the one people are talking about, right?” We came up to the front of City Hall and stopped. “Darla deserves some happiness.”

  “Well, I hope he’s not just being nice. Darla could use some good news in her life.” Greg glanced at the building.

  He kissed me on the forehead. “Gotta get back to the investigation. See you at five?”

  I turned and headed home, throwing good thoughts into the air for Darla and the new man in her life. By the time I got home, I’d decided that the run I’d considered for the morning would happen that afternoon. When we got to the beach, Emma chased seagulls out of the waves to her heart’s content, and after we’d made our rounds, I sat on the sand watching her.

  Ted’s unfortunate demise circled around my thoughts. Well, not unfortunate for Marie or anyone else who actually had to work with him. I considered Candy Peterson. Was she upset enough about losing her position to kill? That didn’t make a bit of sense unless she had a really, really long game. Ted had ousted her years ago. But then again, Ted had still been looking for a missing wife after decades. Maybe people held grudges longer than I could imagine.

  I knew one thing, Marie had been scared. I’d seen it in her face the night I’d asked her about Ted at the stained-glass class. And if he scared her that badly after so many years, who else had been afraid of Ted and why?

  CHAPTER 14

  The winery grounds were lit up with tiny white lights. The barn where the stage was set had been decorated in a not quite full-out Christmas theme but more of a holiday party with touches of fall and winter mixed together. Tables were filled with couples and groups both inside the structure and flowing out onto the patio, where a few gas heaters had been set up for the more adventuresome patrons.

  Greg escorted me toward a small table in a corner of the barn, one where he could watch the entire show. Once a cop, always a cop, I guessed. But I didn’t mind. Greg took his job seriously, and I appreciated him for his dedication, even when he was on my time.

  Scanning the room for Darla, I noticed her at the bar with Matt, their heads tipped together as he whispered something in her ear. Even at this distance, I could see the blush on Darla’s cheeks deepen. Yep, the girl had it bad.

  I moved my attention away from the couple. Somehow it felt like I was eavesdropping on a private conversation even without hearing the words. Many of the town regulars were here tonight. Lille, the owner of the diner, sat at a table with a man I didn’t recognize. Her last boyfriend was still in prison on a drug charge. This man appeared a tad more respectable than her usual type, his jeans and T-shirt clean, and he wasn’t sporting biker colors. Maybe she’d changed her ways.

  Greg brought me a glass of white zinfandel along with a bottle of his favorite brew. He slipped into the chair next to me. “Crowd watching?”

  “Do you know who’s with Lille?” I inclined my head toward their table.

  Greg followed my gaze and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t. Want me to find out? You interested?”

  I slapped his arm. “I was just wondering if she was dating again. She’s been kind of grumpy since Ray went up the ocean.”

  He laughed. “I think the term is ‘up the river’. And yes, she has been a bit of a …” He paused, seeking out an appropriate word.

  “Pain. Witch. Nightmare. Take your choice.” I giggled. Lille was one of those women who lived the old motto, if Mama ain’t happy, no one is. I sipped my wine, relaxing into my chair. The band was playing an old ballad, one I’d grown up loving. Couples sprinkled around the dance floor, not worried about who might be watching. A man dipped his partner, sparking a laugh from the woman. The ballroom couple was David and Regina. The two floated around the room like they’d been dancing together for years. No matter what the official story was, the man adored his boss. You could see it in his eyes as he focused only on her.

  Greg caught my focus on the dancing couple. He nodded toward them. “You want to dance?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m still watching.”

  He scanned the couples again, looking confused. “Who?”

  Leaning closer so that I wouldn’t be overheard, I whispered, “The woman in the fuchsia top and way-too-expensive jeans and the tall man who can’t take his eyes off her.”

  Greg studied them for a while. “Tourists?”

  “Yeah. They’ve been in the shop a lot this week. He’s her driver.” I watched Greg’s face. When he didn’t show any reaction, I added, “He works for her.”

  “And, so?” Greg turned his gaze back to me. “He works for her and they are dancing. In public. No hip grinding in sight. People can do that without being in a relationship.”

  “Sometimes for an investigator, you can be kind of clueless.” I sipped my wine, pleased at the slightly sweet taste. I lowered my voice just a touch more. “You should see the way he looks at her. It’s like she’s a princess or something.”

  “Okay, so maybe he has a thing for his boss. She’s attractive. Why not?” Greg took a pull off his bottle.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s married from the rock on her finger.”

  “Then she’s married and her driver has a crush on her. Even if they are engaging in extracurricular hanky-panky, that’s not our business. I’m sure she’s not the first wife to stray.” Greg started to take a sip out of the bottle, then paused, holding it halfway up to his lips. “No, make that, I’m certain she’s not the first wife to stray.”

  We didn’t talk about Sherry much, but when we did, Greg never had good things to say about his ex-wife. It wasn’t like he was mean about it, though. I got the impression he was more hurt than angry. During the last year, even the hurt had started to ease from his voice. Now, he seemed to find the entire marriage ancient history of the worst kind. I held up a finger, but he shook his head at me.

  “Not our business, sweetheart. Let’s talk about something else. How’s the book drive going? Tina seems to think you’ll fall flat on your pretty little butt on this one.”

  “She does? That woman is a bad seed. She couldn’t pull together a community festival to raise money for baby seals. No one likes her.” I stopped talking when I saw Greg grinning. “You tricked me out of talking about Regina and David, didn’t you?”

  “I know your buttons, darling, what can I say?” He finished off his beer and glanced at my wineglass. “Ready for another? Then we can take a few spins on the floor? I’ll even let you pretend you’re my boss.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “So you’ll call me Mayor Baylor?” I deadpanned.

  Greg stood. “Man, you know exactly what to say to kill a mood, don’t you?�
�

  I watched him make his way through the tables, stopping to talk to one person, then the next. He could be a politician the way he smoothed through people. When I’d asked him about a political office being in his future, he’d shut me down saying he didn’t want the pressure. “Yeah, like being a lead detective on a murder case isn’t pressure,” I whispered to Greg’s retreating form.

  Matt walked across Greg’s path, zigzagging through the tables to avoid meeting up with him. Then someone blocked Matt’s path. It was the girl from the coffee shop. I watched the two of them exchange a few words, then Matt grabbed her elbow and dragged her toward the doorway. He glanced around the room as they walked out, and our gazes met for a brief second. Then he disappeared out of the door.

  “Damn,” I muttered, under my breath. I’d hoped Matt had actually been able to look past the physical and actually like Darla. I guess I’d been too caught up in the romance to actually see the obvious. Matt must be dating the woman who had been hanging out in the coffee shop. Although she seemed way too young for him. And that, of course, led me to my next utterance, “Men are pigs.”

  “Uh-oh. What did Greg do now?” Darla put her hand on my shoulder and scooted up a chair to the table.

  “What—no, Greg didn’t do anything. I was just making a statement about most men.” I glanced around the almost full room and tried to change the subject. “You’ve got almost a full house.”

  Darla followed my gaze. “It’s the holiday coming up. People know they’re going to be stuck in the house with distant relatives in a couple of weeks and they want to have one last hurrah before the madness begins.”

  “The place looks amazing. You’ve got such a flare for design, I’m surprised you opened the winery instead of an interior design shop.”