“You heard she stabbed her mom’s old man?” Ricky finished the sentence for me. “Patricia told you that, didn’t she?”
“It might have been her,” I said.
Ricky banged his fist on the counter. “She loves to spread that story around. Thinks she’s making Erin look bad. Never mind that it wasn’t Erin’s fault. But Patricia lives in her big, fancy house with her white picket fence. She has no idea what the real world is like.”
In all his defense of Erin, he had yet to deny the accusation. “So is it true? Did Erin stab her mom’s boyfriend?”
He leaned toward me. “Only after he made a move on her. She told him no. When he wouldn’t lay off, she stabbed him to protect herself.”
I felt like cheering for Erin. “I had no idea that’s what happened.”
“Her mom didn’t want to look like a bad mother, so she convinced the boyfriend not to press charges.”
“Is that when Erin moved in with Carla?”
“Yeah. Her drunk of a mom wouldn’t kick the bum out, so Erin left.”
How sad that her mom had picked a boyfriend over her own daughter. “I’d move out, too.”
Ricky’s eyes focused behind me, and I knew another customer had arrived. I put my two bucks on the counter and moved out of the way. I didn’t have any other questions for Ricky at this point. He’d told me everything I wanted to know.
Now I had to decide if he was telling the truth.
Chapter 30
I returned to our bowling lane. Ashlee was waiting near the ball return, slouched in a plastic chair. She must have ditched Zach, because he was nowhere in sight.
“What happened to your friend?” I asked, setting my soda in a cup holder.
Ashlee shot a glare toward the arcade. “Still playing some stupid video game. I bet he’s there all night.”
Brittany came up to where we sat, pulling her phone from her pocket and checking her reflection in the mirror app. “You guys up for another game or what?”
I glanced over my shoulder at the guy I’d seen Brittany talking to earlier. He was laughing with his friends, but he let his gaze stray our way every few seconds to see what Brittany was doing. “I thought you found someone new to hang out with.”
Brittany looked toward the group of guys and gave a little wave. “I told him we’d hook up after I was done bowling. He wanted to play another round with his friends, anyway.”
While I’d mentally vowed never to bowl with Ashlee again, my talk with Ricky had given me enough time to recover from our first game. “Sure, one more game is good.”
With Zach no longer giving Ashlee lessons, the second game moved much faster. Before I knew it, the tenth frame was over, and we’d all broken a hundred with our scores. We changed out of our shoes and returned them to the shoe rental area.
On our way out of the building, I spotted Zach still in the arcade. He held a large plastic gun and was shooting at a series of zombies as they popped up on a giant video screen. Two of his buddies stood to one side and cheered every time he shot a zombie in the head.
Ashlee stuck out her chin and tossed her hair over her shoulder on the way past. “He wasn’t that hot, anyway,” she muttered under her breath.
During the entire ride home, she whined about how immature Zach had turned out to be. Her tirade continued as she made her way up the stairs and into the apartment. I left Brittany to console her and escaped to my bedroom.
As I got ready for bed, I took my phone from my pocket and found that I’d missed a couple of calls from Jason. Too late to call now. Whatever he’d wanted, it’d have to wait until morning.
On my way to work the next day, I stopped by the Daily Grind for a large latte with a double shot of espresso. While I sipped my coffee, I sat in my car in the parking lot and called Jason but reached his voice mail. I’d try again later. I set my coffee in the cup holder and my phone on the passenger seat and drove to the farm.
Once in the office, I uploaded the new farm photos to the Web site. Esther came in as I was cropping the photo of the honeybee. Her blue cotton shirt was wrinkled, and her curly gray hair was uncombed.
“Everything all right, Esther?” I asked as I saved my changes to the file.
She sank into the guest chair. “Gordon and I had a long talk last night.”
My fingers froze over the keyboard. “About what?” For a second, I held out hope that Gordon had merely wanted to talk to Esther about something innocuous, like how much food the pigs were eating or how many guests were booked for next week, but that idea died as soon as she spoke.
“He told me how the whole town is talking about Gretchen killing that lady and how our reservations are disappearing because of it. I was up half the night fretting.”
“You know how Gordon worries about the reputation of this place. I’m sure we have more reservations than he realizes.”
She bit her lip. “I think Gordon might have a point. One of my own friends told me she almost canceled her appointment with Gretchen. If people are too scared to come here, we might need to make some changes.”
My stomach sank. While I’d been hoping she’d tell Gordon he was overreacting, this farm and spa was Esther’s livelihood. I couldn’t expect her to ignore the rumors altogether. At the same time, though, Gretchen didn’t deserve to be fired over gossip. “Esther, a man was murdered at this very farm when we first opened, and we didn’t go out of business. If guests are willing to stay here after all that, they won’t let a bunch of rumors stop them from visiting.”
Esther dropped her gaze to the floor. “I have to think about the farm.”
I didn’t have the heart to make her feel any guiltier than she already did. “I’m sure you’ll decide whatever’s fair for both Gretchen and this place.”
“Thanks, Dana.” She slowly stood and shuffled out of the room. I knew she liked Gretchen a lot, and I didn’t envy her decision.
I finished working on the Web site and took a minute to call Jason again. I got his voice mail and hung up without leaving a message. Then I went out the back door of the kitchen to tidy up the patio area. I cleaned up a few pieces of trash the guests had left under the table, then got the pool net out of the shed and skimmed the surface of the water, removing a handful of leaves and dead bugs.
On my way back to the shed, I passed the pigpen and noticed the water trough was muddy. I pointed a finger at Wilbur. “Didn’t I just clean that yesterday?”
He sniffed at me and turned away. With a sigh, I leaned the net against the fence, pulled on the boots, and grabbed the hose before letting myself into the pen. I stepped over to the water trough, and my boot slid in the mud. I struggled to keep my balance while Wilbur snorted at me.
“You know, you could always help,” I said crossly. “You and your buddies should be a little neater around the trough.” Wilbur hung his head, and I felt a pang of remorse. “Never mind. I know you try your best.”
I sprayed out the trough and filled it with fresh water. As I dragged the hose back through the pen, one of the pigs bumped me. I felt my feet slip out from under me again, and I flung my arms out to the sides in a desperate attempt not to hit the mud. I felt my weight shift and pull me backward. I jerked forward, overcorrected, and fell to my knees, caking my pants with muck.
“Oh, yuck,” I muttered to myself as I pulled myself to my feet. I tried to wipe the big gobs off with my hands but mostly spread the mess around even more. My knees were now coated.
I tromped over to the outside faucet and wiped off my pants as best I could with the nearby towel before washing my hands. I removed the boots and put my own shoes back on, then marched straight to the laundry room and opened the cabinet where I kept a change of clothes.
The shelf was bare. I thought back to how I’d put on those clothes after I’d fallen in the duck pond last month. Maybe I needed to work more on my balance, given the way I was always falling down.
I retrieved my purse from the office and headed to the lobby. Gordon stood at
the front counter. He took a step back when he saw me, as if the mud might jump off my clothes and dirty his clean white dress shirt.
“What happened to you?”
“Had a little accident in the pigsty. I need to run home and change.”
He waved his hand in front of his face, though I knew he couldn’t smell anything. “Don’t let the guests see you on your way out.”
I looked out the window. A few cars were in the parking lot, but I couldn’t see any people. The sidewalk was empty, as well. I glanced around the vacant lobby. I almost asked what guests he was referring to, but didn’t. It might remind him of how much our appointments were down. “I’ll be careful,” I said.
I went to my car, got an old towel out of the trunk, and laid it across the seat. Then I gingerly sat down and brought my legs in after me, careful not to brush my muddy knees against the steering wheel. As I placed my wallet and phone on the car seat, I accidentally brushed the ON button to the phone and saw I had two missed calls—one from Ashlee and one from Jason—and a single voice mail. I accessed the voice mail and hit the speakerphone button.
Ashlee’s voice filled the inside of my Honda, her high-pitched tone one note below what only dogs could hear. “Oh, my gosh, Dana, you have to call me! You won’t believe what Brittany told me! You’re gonna flip out!”
What on earth was Ashlee so excited about? Had Brittany run off with the guy she met at the bowling alley? Whatever it was would have to wait until I got home. I needed to change my clothes before I did anything else.
I sped to my apartment and donned a clean pair of pants, tossing the dirty ones in the tub until I could deal with them after work. I grabbed an extra change of clothes to keep at the office and was rooting around in my closet for a sack to carry them in when my cell phone rang. I snatched it up without checking the display. It had to be Ashlee, still dying to fill me in on whatever had her so worked up.
“Dana, I hate to bother you at work.”
It took my brain a second to register that I was talking to Mom, not Ashlee.
“Dana? Is this a bad time?” she asked.
“No. I’m here. Is anything wrong?” Mom rarely called me during work unless there was a problem.
“No, everything’s fine. I’m on my break and wanted to call and see if you and Ashlee can come to dinner tonight. I miss having you girls around.”
I thought about how much I’d enjoyed our dinner earlier in the week. “I’d love to come over. I already need to call Ashlee back, so I’ll ask her if she can make it, too.” I grabbed my shoe off the floor and pulled it on. “Say, Mom, could you make that asparagus thing you used to cook? The one with the Parmesan cheese broiled on top?”
“I’d love to,” Mom gushed. “I didn’t realize you liked vegetables.”
I finished tying my shoe. “Neither did I until I stopped eating them. Now I actually miss the occasional bit of green.”
“I’ll add asparagus to the grocery list. Now I’d better let you go.” I started to say good-bye, but she interrupted me. “Oh, before I forget . . . Tell Jason how much I enjoyed his story in this morning’s paper.”
I had no idea what story she was referring to. “Jason and I have been playing phone tag so far today. Did he have a follow-up article about Patricia’s craft store?” I grabbed my other shoe as I waited for her answer.
“No, not that. The story about Stan, of course.”
I froze with my shoe partway on my foot. “What about Stan?”
“Don’t you know already? I was sure Jason would tell you right away. Stan was arrested for that spa owner’s murder.”
Chapter 31
The shoe slipped from my grasp and thumped to the floor. I ignored it. “What are you talking about? When did the police arrest Stan?” I asked Mom. Was that why Jason had called last night, while I’d been bowling? Was Stan’s arrest what had Ashlee so worked up in the voice mail she’d left me? I pressed the phone closer so I wouldn’t miss Mom’s answer.
“According to the paper, he was taken into custody yesterday evening. Jason did an excellent job recapping the murder. He’s such a good writer.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.” I picked up my shoe off the floor and jammed my foot inside, then pulled the laces and tied them in one swift motion. “Look, Mom, I have to go. I’ll see you for dinner tonight.”
“Don’t forget to ask Ashlee, too.”
“I won’t.” I hung up and immediately dialed Jason’s number.
Voice mail.
Again.
“Call me when you get this. I heard about Stan,” I said after the recording finished. I jumped up and paced the confines of my bedroom.
Stan.
Arrested for Carla’s murder.
But why would he do it? Because she didn’t want to partner with Patricia? That didn’t make sense. No one killed a person for such a petty reason.
Mom hadn’t mentioned any other particulars about Jason’s article, but maybe she’d forgotten something. I needed to read that story myself.
I held up my phone and opened a Web browser. After months of prodding from Jason and everyone else on staff at the Blossom Valley Herald, Jason’s boss had finally agreed to provide a digital copy of the newspaper online. Now I typed in the Web address, chewing on my bottom lip while I waited.
After a few seconds the newspaper site filled the small screen. The headline screamed ARREST MADE IN SPA OWNER’S MURDER in bold black letters. Below that, a photo of Stan, probably a professional shot taken for his own Web site for his accounting business, peered back at me. I scrolled through the article but didn’t find anything I didn’t already know. No mention of a motive, either. Darn, I wished Jason would hurry up and call me back.
In the meantime, I needed to get back to work. I grabbed my keys and stuck my phone in my pocket. As I stepped into the hall, the front door opened. Ashlee flew in, scanning the room.
When she saw me, she ran over and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Dana!” she yelled, even though we were inches apart. “You’re not going to believe what I found out!”
I removed her hands from my shoulders and clasped them between my own hands, worried she might hyperventilate if she didn’t calm down. “I already talked to Mom. She told me that Stan was arrested for killing Carla.”
She pulled her hands from my grasp. “Everybody knows that. But I bet you don’t know why he did it.”
Now I felt like grabbing her shoulders. “Why? Tell me!”
“Because Stan was sleeping with Carla.”
I was so shocked, I literally had to sit down. I barely made it to the couch before my legs gave out. “Wait a minute. Are we talking about the same Stan here? Patricia’s accountant husband, who does everything she says? That Stan?”
“I know! I didn’t want to believe it, either!” she cried. “But Brittany sent Jessica a link to the story in the Herald. When Jessica saw his picture, she remembered him coming by the spa a couple of times. It was always after hours, like he and Carla were trying to keep it a big secret. She called Brittany, and Brittany was about to call me when I called her, anyway, and that’s when she told me.”
I waited for her to take a breath before I spoke. “Just because Jessica saw Stan at the spa after closing doesn’t mean he and Carla were lovers. He could have been there on an errand for Patricia.”
Even as I said it, I realized that I might have figured Carla all wrong. I’d heard from more than one person that Carla had been dating a married man, while other people said she hadn’t. She could have easily had two boyfriends, and one of them might have been Stan. I’d considered him a likely boyfriend myself when I first met him, then dismissed the idea when I’d seen how good-looking Miguel was. But Stan was fairly handsome, too.
Had Carla threatened to tell Patricia, and had Stan killed her to keep her quiet? Is that who Gretchen had overheard arguing at the spa that night? And what about his alibi?
Ashlee shook her head. “Stan wasn’t there on an errand
for Patricia. He was there for a hookup.”
“You could be right,” I said, “but I never would have guessed that Stan was capable of an affair. He seems so solid.”
“Those are the ones you have to watch out for,” Ashlee said knowingly. She clapped her hands together. “Have you talked to Jason? I bet he’d love to know that Stan and Carla were getting it on.”
I checked my phone, hoping for a text. Did Jason know? If he didn’t, did he know someone who could confirm the affair? “I’ve been trying to reach him, but I keep getting voice mail. He’s probably pestering the cops for more info right now.” I stood up from the couch. “But I can’t sit around and wait. I should be back at work already.” I noted her vet smock. “Speaking of which, why are you home?”
“We’re busy this afternoon, so I took an early lunch.”
“But it’s barely ten o’clock.”
Ashlee gave me a look that said I was an idiot. “Duh. That’s why I said it’s early.”
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll call you later.”
I trotted to my car and roared out of the complex. In minutes I was parking in the lot at the farm. As I barreled through the lobby, Gordon made a show of looking at his watch but didn’t say anything. Not that I gave him the chance.
Once in the office I studied the computer screen and tried to focus, but all I could think about was Stan. Good old dependable Stan. Cheating on Patricia was a much better motive than defending his wife’s honor when her business deal fell through.
And at least Gretchen was off the hook. Now that an arrest had been made, those evil gossipmongers wouldn’t keep whispering about how Gretchen was the killer. Now they’d turn their sharp tongues on Stan. I’d be curious to see how fast the spa’s appointment book filled up. Surely, some of those gossipers would feel guilty about spreading rumors and would book massages and facials with Gretchen as a form of penance.
I shut these thoughts out of my head and started working on a new advertisement for the farm. I’d managed to eke out a single paragraph when my phone rang. I jumped at the sudden noise and fumbled to answer the phone, recognizing Jason’s ringtone.
A Healthy Homicide Page 21