“Please call me back on your real phone.”
I sighed, disconnected and called her back from my landline.
“I’m so glad you called, sweetheart. I just heard the news about Julia Akin.”
I searched my brain trying to place the name. Probably one of Mother’s friends that I met once twenty years ago and was expected to remember for the rest of my life. I had no idea if the news was good or bad, whether Mother loved or hated Julia, if I should commiserate or celebrate. “I hadn’t heard about Julia Akin,” I said, trying to be as noncommittal as possible.
“Oh, Lindsay! I didn’t realize you didn’t know! I’ll be right over. You don’t need to be alone when you hear this.”
I was supposed to know who Julia Akin was, and my mother was coming over to tell me about her and interrupt my evening with Trent. “No, Mother, don’t do that. I’m not alone.” There were plenty of spiders in the basement and Henry would be back soon.
“Who’s there with you?”
“Trent’s on his way.” He might be, and certainly would be as soon as he got off work.
“Oh. Trent.” My mother’s voice dripped icicles. But she sighed and relented. “Very well. At least you won’t be alone tonight.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll be just fine. Look, I’m really sorry about Julia, but I need to run. That may be Trent’s car coming down the street.” May be. Odds were it wasn’t, but that was a technicality.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you understand about Julia. We need to talk about her.”
I sank down onto the sofa, prepared for a pretentious, verbose recitation of poor Julia’s troubles. “Okay, let’s talk.”
“That’s the woman who died in the explosion with Rick.” Give my mother credit, she can be succinct and to the point when the occasion demands.
Though I had nothing against the late Julia Akin, I was delighted to get that news. It would give me something to throw up to Fred, that my mother had this information before he did. “I appreciate your concern, but it really doesn’t bother me that Rick had another girlfriend.”
A long moment of silence ensued.
“Do you know who Julia Akin was?”
“Rick’s fifty-seventh girlfriend since we got married? That’s just a wild guess. I didn’t really keep track of the number.”
My mother heaved a long-suffering sigh. It wasn’t easy having me for a daughter. I could appreciate that. I wouldn’t want to have me for a daughter. “She’s Thomas Akin’s wife.”
“Married? Bummer. I hope they didn’t have kids.”
“They didn’t. Lindsay, Thomas Akin is a very prominent man in the area. He’s on the board of several organizations as well as chairman of the Missouri Roads and Highways Commission.”
This was all starting to make sense. “Mother, where did you hear about this? It’s not on the news yet, is it?”
“No, but it will be soon. Brent Hathaway told your father. He heard it from Sam Carruthers.”
The news was making the rounds of the elite of Kansas City. My mother was suffering from shame by association. It was one thing when her daughter’s estranged husband dated strippers and store clerks, but now he’d branched out into my mother’s world.
Everyone would know.
“I’m sorry, Mother. Marrying Rick was a huge mistake, but I can’t take it back, and I can’t undo his misdeeds. He’s dead. She’s dead. It’s a done deal.”
“When the television reporters come to interview you, please be circumspect in what you say.”
I thought Mother was probably being a little paranoid about the TV reporters, but I wasn’t going to argue with her. “I can be circumspect. How about, No comment?”
“Yes, that would be best. Have you decided yet when the funeral will be? We need to get that over with as quickly and discreetly as possible.”
“Oh, well, about that…” Maybe I should have let my mother come over or gone to her place. I could handle the news about Julia, but I wasn’t sure my mother could handle everything I had to tell her. “The funeral’s been sort of taken out of my hands. Rick’s family has arrived.”
She gasped. If she had not had impeccable manners, she would have interrupted me with an expression of her astonishment.
“I know, I told you I didn’t think Rick had a family, that he was hatched from an egg in an experimental laboratory and the scientist who did it committed suicide from remorse. But it turns out he has a mother, two brothers, a former girlfriend and maybe a son.”
A long moment of dead silence.
“Mom? Are you okay? Is Dad there? Do I need to come over? Do I need to call 911?”
“What sort of people are they?”
“Loud, pushy, demanding. You’re not going to want to invite them to Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Where are they right now?”
“In Rick’s house, probably destroying everything.” I smiled at that image.
My cell phone broke into Wild Bull Rider. Fred.
“I gotta go, Mom. I’ll let you know when the funeral is.”
I hung up and answered Fred’s call.
“I found out the name of Rick’s girlfriend,” he said.
“Me too. Julia Akin.” Bazinga! I said it first!
“I suppose it’s common knowledge already. That was bound to happen.”
“If it’s not, it will be soon. My mom’s bridge club will be spreading the news to the far corners of the earth.”
“I didn’t realize your mother played bridge.”
Poor Fred. I’d just scooped him and now he thought there was something he didn’t know about my mother.
“She doesn’t play bridge. I was just making a point. The news is going the rounds in her circle of acquaintances.”
“I see.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to steal your thunder. Well, actually, I did mean to.” I couldn’t repress a short giggle. It’s so seldom I’m able to beat Fred at his own game.
“Does your mother’s fictitious bridge club know about the new highway extension planned for the area out by Kollar’s Flour Mill?”
I sat bolt upright on the sofa. “So that’s why Rick was buying up that property and planning a shopping center! Somehow Julia found out through her husband and told Rick.”
“It would appear. Short of finding a good medium, I don’t suppose we’ll ever know exactly what happened, but apparently something along those lines did.”
“I wonder what this will mean with respect to all those properties he bought? Will Marissa or Rickie or whoever gets them have to give them back since Rick had inside information he didn’t reveal?”
“No, of course not. Julia probably broke a few laws when she shared the information about the highway, but they can’t prosecute her or Rick now.”
“You think Bryan Kollar could have known about the highway even though he didn’t know about Rick’s plans for the shopping center?”
“It’s possible, but I don’t think so. I need to do some more research on him.” He hung up.
I sat there on the sofa mulling over this new information until I heard a knock on the door.
Trent.
I got up to let him in. Henry darted in alongside him. I was glad my cat liked my boyfriend. I’d have hated to have to choose between them.
Trent smiled, the green in his eyes dancing. He held out a bouquet of brightly colored flowers.
“They’re beautiful!” I was impressed. Rick always gave me roses, but I really like lots of different flowers of different colors.
“You’re beautiful.” He pulled me into his arms and gave me a long, slow, delicious kiss.
“Want to go upstairs?” I whispered.
He laughed. “How about we go to dinner first? We’ve waited this long. Let’s do this right.”
I nodded. “I guess I’m just being a little paranoid. It’s like the universe is scheming to keep you out of my bedroom, and we need to take advantage of this opportunity.”
“This opportunity will
last all night. We’re not going to open the door to anybody, not even the fire department.”
“Deal.”
I put the flowers in a vase, gave Henry some catnip, and Trent and I went to a steak place with real napkins and candles on the table. I spilled red wine on my gray silk blouse. Should have worn the red shirt.
When we got home, Trent parked his car in my driveway rather than on the street. We were settling in for the night. I smiled as we walked across the yard to my house, his arm around my waist. I’d been waiting for this night for a long time, waiting for my divorce to be final and, more recently, waiting for Rick’s relatives to go away. I had to work the next day, but it was Saturday and we only served brunch on Saturday so I could sleep—or whatever—until six o’clock, an extra two hours.
We went inside. I locked the door behind us and put on the chain then stepped into Trent’s arms. He has the most luscious lips. I could kiss him for an hour or so, and planned to do just that.
“Upstairs,” I whispered against those wonderful lips.
“Mmm hmm,” he agreed, kissing the side of my neck, working his way down, sending tingles all through my body.
His cell phone rang.
“Don’t answer it.”
He sighed and stopped the wonderful things he’d been doing. “I have to. That’s my work phone.”
I got an eerie feeling that Rick from his vantage point on the other side was somehow still manipulating my life. I was being paranoid again.
I went to the kitchen to get a Coke while Trent took his call.
When I came back he was sitting on the sofa with his hands in his lap holding his phone between them, his head down.
“You have to leave, don’t you?” Please say no!
He nodded and lifted his head to look at me. His eyes were dark. “They got an anonymous call at the station. Somebody says he knows who killed Rick and wants to meet with me tonight to tell me. The caller has some information we didn’t release to the public, so this could be legitimate.”
Chapter Fourteen
I was sleeping soundly on the sofa when Trent returned. He woke me with a kiss on the cheek. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Did you catch the killer?”
Trent sank down beside me, and I could tell by the disgust on his face what the answer was going to be. “The informant never showed up.”
“Damn. That sucks. What time is it?”
“Two a.m.”
“Two a.m.? It was nine thirty when you left here. Did you wait all that time for some creep who wouldn’t even give you his name?”
Trent leaned back and heaved a long sigh. “Sort of. He kept calling and saying he’d been delayed, so Lawson and I kept waiting until it got ridiculous. Obviously he knows something or he wouldn’t have known…” He glanced at me. “He wouldn’t have had that information we withheld. But he was jacking us around tonight.”
I wrapped an arm about him and laid my head on his shoulder. “Want to come up to bed?” I tried to make my words sound suggestive, but my yawn in the middle of the sentence probably blew that attempt.
He laughed softly and kissed the top of my head. “Not when you have to get up in four hours and you’re already asleep.”
“I’m awake.”
“Then why are you snoring?”
I lifted my head and peered at him in the dim light. “I wasn’t snoring. Was I?”
He laughed again. “Tomorrow night. You and I. All night long then sleep all day Sunday. That’ll be better anyway.” He stood, pulling me to my feet. “Lock the door behind me and then go straight upstairs to bed.”
“Okay.” I didn’t protest. To be honest, I wasn’t feeling very sexy at that moment, just sleepy and angry at whoever had led Trent and Lawson on a wild goose chase by claiming to have information about Rick’s murder.
My paranoia was justified. Even dead, Rick was managing to keep Trent and me out of the bedroom.
*~*~*
For once my mother hadn’t overreacted.
I was in the kitchen of Death by Chocolate taking out a fresh pan of brownies when Paula came back to tell me a reporter from one of the local stations wanted to talk to me.
I set the brownies on a cooling rack and uttered a few swear words.
“Want me to tell her you’re not here?” Paula asked.
“No, I’ll get rid of her.”
It was just after 11:00. We’d only been open a few minutes, so there weren’t a lot of customers in the room. That was good. Maybe I’d be able to get rid of the reporter quickly and easily without anybody noticing.
I walked over to the blond woman standing at the counter. “I’m Lindsay Powell. Can I help you?”
The man sitting beside her rose and turned on his video camera. No, we weren’t going to be able to do this quickly, easily or discreetly.
The woman smiled. “Lindsay, I’m Wendy Turner with channel 7. Could we chat for a few minutes?”
“I’m pretty busy right now.”
She looked around the near-empty room. “When would be a good time?”
“If this is about my ex-husband, I have no comment.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Ex? You and Richard Kramer were divorced when he was killed?”
“Well, no, but we are now. I mean, he’s dead, so we’re not married anymore. That’s like the ultimate divorce.”
“Were you aware he was dating Julia Akin?”
“Rick and I were separated. I didn’t keep up with his social life.” Damn! I was talking to a reporter! Mother wasn’t going to be happy.
“Do you think Thomas Akin murdered his wife and your husband?”
“What?” I grabbed a glass, poured myself a Coke and drank half in one gulp. Sure, I’d joked about that scenario but it would be ironic if, after all his cheating, Rick really was killed by a jealous husband.
“You haven’t heard that the police took Mr. Akin in for questioning this morning?”
“No. No comment.” It was probably a little late for that. I chugged the rest of the Coke.
“Was Julia Akin the reason you filed for divorce from your husband?”
“This is a place of business. You need to leave.”
The bell above the door jingled as another customer came in. I hurried over to take his order then ran back to the kitchen. When I returned with the man’s food, the reporter and photographer were gone. Whew! Dodged that bullet without spilling too many of my guts.
A couple of hours later the place was packed. Paula and I were both darting around, dispensing sandwiches and chocolate.
I was behind the counter, selecting chocolate chip cookies for the party of four in the corner…one gluten free, one without nuts and two regular…when I heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Detective Lawson standing at the counter, scowling. He always scowled so that didn’t mean anything. I was focused on keeping the cookies separate and just gave him a quick smile and a nod. “Be right with you.”
I gave the right cookies to the right people (later confirmed because nobody went into anaphylactic shock) then came back to the counter.
“Hey, Lawson, good to see you,” I said. “What can I get for you? I recommend the brownies. They’re especially good today. I’ve had four already, just for purposes of quality control, of course.”
“You need to come outside.”
My heart stopped. When you’re involved with a cop and another cop wants to talk privately, that’s scary. “Is it Trent? Is he okay?”
“Trent’s fine. He asked me to do this since you and he…” He shrugged, turned and walked to the door.
I caught Paula’s eye across the room and indicated that I was going outside. She looked around at the crowded room and held her hands out questioningly.
I shrugged and followed Lawson outside. When a cop beckons, one must follow.
A police cruiser was parked in a “No Parking” spot in front of the restaurant. Lawson opened the back door and pulled out a tall man.
Brad.
Clin
t slid out right behind him.
They weren’t smiling.
“What’s going on? What are they doing here? Why were they in the back of a cop car?”
“Detective Morrison arrested them last night for prostitution.”
I had met Alicia Morrison, an attractive lady who often went undercover. “Prostitution?” I looked at the boys in complete disgust. They ducked their heads and looked ashamed. But like Rick, I’m sure they were only ashamed they’d been caught, not that they’d committed the crime.
“When Trent came in this morning and found out what happened, he asked me to get them released into your custody since they’re Rick’s brothers.”
“My custody?” My hand clutched my throat in horror. “Oh, no! Why didn’t he release them to their mother’s custody? I don’t want them!”
“He tried to get them released to Marissa, but she’s got too many arrests on her record.”
Why did that not surprise me? “Then take them back to jail! Prostitution?” I glared at the boys. “You tried to hire prostitutes? Are you nuts?”
“We didn’t try to hire anybody,” Brad protested, lifting his gaze and looking totally unrepentant.
“That woman was just sitting there in the bar looking lonely,” Clint said. “She acted like she liked us. She should have told us she was a cop.” He glowered at Lawson. “That’s entrapment.”
I saw Marissa drive up and get out of her Cadillac at the same time I saw that the gathering crowd included Wendy Turner and her cameraman. In fact, a news van from another station had just pulled up behind Marissa’s car. Oh, goody. We were all going to be famous, and my mother was going to have to get her valium prescription refilled.
Marissa was mad. She stomped up to her sons and backhanded both of them. “What is the matter with you? What were you thinking?”
“Ma’am,” Lawson said, stepping between her and the boys, “you can’t hit them.”
“Oh, yes, I can! I gave birth to these sorry excuses for men, and that gives me the right to discipline them when they do something stupid, and propositioning a cop is one of the stupidest things I can think of!”
“But, Mama,” Clint whined, “we needed some money! She didn’t tell us she was a cop!”
Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 03 - The Great Chocolate Scam Page 9