Pushed to the Limit (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 2)

by Karen Chester

  “So poor Faye’s had a run of bad luck,” Becky said as they perused their menus. “The fall, then the graffiti and the break-in.”

  “And you don’t think it could be the same person behind both crimes?” Emma asked.

  Becky lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. Usually it’s bored teenagers who do graffiti. I suppose they might have tried to break in, but if they were caught, that would be a felony. And besides, why draw attention to the crime?”

  “So the person who tried to break into Faye’s house could be someone other than just a bored teenager.” Emma tried to catch Stacey’s eyes. She didn’t want to discuss Stacey’s break-in in front of Becky, but she did want to warn her about the possible dangers.

  Stacey nodded solemnly. “We should all make sure our doors are locked until the police catch the criminal. I’m sure it won’t take long. Greenville is a safe place, and this attempted break-in seems like an isolated case.” She set down her menu. “I think I’m going to order the pulled pork. What are you guys having?”

  As the others talked about food, Emma couldn’t help wondering if Stacey had brushed over the incident to reassure Jackie. Emma decided to wait until she and Stacey were alone before she brought up the subject of going to the police again.

  The evening flew by. Emma forgot about the troubling events and relaxed with her friends. Becky and Stacey were very different personalities, but they got on well together. Becky, always a soothing presence, drew Stacey out of her shell, so much so that she shared a few memories of her childhood growing up in rural Pennsylvania.

  “We were very poor. I never owned more than two pairs of shoes at a time until I got my first job at fourteen,” Stacey said with a faint smile.

  Remembering the lack of family photos in Stacey’s house, Emma couldn’t help asking, “Do you ever go back to visit your family?”

  Stacey bit her lip and pleated her napkin. “Uh, not really. My mom died when I was young, and my dad remarried soon after. My stepmom and half-brothers are fine, but we’re not that close, and my dad’s always working.” She hesitated, looking a little sad, before adding, “I know it sounds awful, but, well, it is what it is.”

  A brief silence ensued after her pensive words.

  “Family can be complicated,” Becky said, as tactful as ever.

  “I do think about them.” Stacey stared off into the distance. “Maybe one day I might get the chance to see them again.”

  Emma frowned at the odd choice of words. It almost sounded like something prevented Stacey from seeing her family, but what could that be? A sudden bout of coughing from Jackie broke the silence. With a hand clenched to her lips, she rose and gestured toward the restrooms.

  Emma and Becky started to discuss the country music festival. Five minutes later, Jackie returned to the table, her face screwed up, her shoulders tense.

  “Uh, I’m sorry, but something’s turned up and I gotta go.” She turned to Stacey. “Could I possibly borrow your car? I, uh, need to see someone urgently.”

  “Is everything okay?” Stacey clutched Jackie’s arm, concern etched in her face.

  “Yeah, sure. It’s, um, I can’t talk about it now.” Jackie dipped her head so that her hair obscured her face once again. “It’s okay if you don’t want to lend me your car—”

  “No, no, take it,” Stacey insisted, digging her car keys out of her purse. “It’s no problem, really.”

  “Thanks. I’ll just leave some money for my meal…”

  Jackie fumbled in her purse for her wallet, but Stacey pressed her hand, stilling the motion. “Don’t worry about the bill. I’ll cover your share.”

  The other woman blinked at her, then nodded. “I’ll pay you back later.” She murmured goodbyes to Emma and Becky, and slipped out of the restaurant.

  Stacey gazed after her. “I sure hope she’s okay. It’s so difficult for women coming out of an abusive relationship to change their mindset.” She glanced at the others. “Some of them end up returning to the very men who abused them.”

  “Yeah, it’s sad,” Becky said. “But I guess after years of having your self-respect eroded away, it’s hard being on your own and believing in yourself.”

  “Exactly.” Stacey nodded vigorously. “That’s why I’m determined to provide Jackie with a safe environment so she doesn’t feel the need to return to that brute of her husband. Not that she talks about him much, but I can read between the lines.”

  “You’re so good to her.” Emma touched her arm. “And don’t worry about getting home; I’ll give you a lift.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for inviting me and Jackie tonight. I’ve enjoyed it.”

  A short time later, they paid the bill, splitting it three ways, and left the restaurant. On the drive to Stacey’s house, Emma took the opportunity to bring up the break-in again.

  “I know you don’t want Jackie spooked, but I really think you should tell the police.” She hesitated, wondering how to bring up the subject of Stacey’s past. “I know they didn’t help you when you needed to escape your husband, but this is Greenville. I’m sure the police here would take you seriously.”

  Stacey didn’t answer, and for a moment Emma thought she’d offended her. But then Stacey spoke in a subdued voice. “I suppose I should tell you what happened to me in the past.”

  Emma shifted uneasily. “You don’t have to.”

  “Actually, I think I do.” Stacey gazed out the windshield at the road ahead. “I was married to a brute. He used to hit me when he thought I was looking at another man. When I finally plucked up enough courage to go to the police, it turned out my husband had some good friends working at our local PD. My complaint was never recorded, and when he heard about it, he beat me so badly I couldn’t get out of bed for three days. I learned my lesson. After that, I never went near another cop again.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Emma murmured, feeling hopelessly inadequate.

  Stacey was such a gentle, soft-natured woman, small in stature and completely non-threatening. How could anyone, let alone someone who had promised to love and protect her, raise a hand to her? Anger rose in Emma at the same time as her heart filled with sympathy. She couldn’t begin to understand what someone like Stacey had gone through. Was still going through.

  “It’s not your fault.” Stacey glanced at her. “So, I can sense you want to ask me some questions.”

  “Well…” She did have questions, though she hated prying into Stacey’s personal pain.

  “Go on.” Stacey nodded encouragingly. “It’s good for me to talk about it.”

  “Okay. Well, how long ago did you divorce him?”

  “Years ago. A lifetime ago,” Stacey said firmly.

  “Were you young when you married him?”

  “Yes. Too young.” She shook her head. “I was desperate to leave home. My dad was always busy, and my stepmom had young boys to take care of. At eighteen I quit the farm and moved to the city, against my father’s wishes. I was lonely and a bit lost when I met…him. At first I thought he was wonderful, the way he cared of me and wanted to know everything I was doing every minute of the day. It took me a while to see the dark side of him.” Stacey pushed a hand through her hair. “But it’s all in the past. I’ve moved on now. I’ve made a new life for myself here in Greenville, and I like it.”

  “And what about Greg Foster?” The question came out of Emma before she could stop herself.

  “Greg Foster? What about him?”

  “He likes you. Why won’t you go out with him?”

  Stacey flapped a hand and made a ‘tch’ sound of exasperation. “I like Greg, but that doesn’t mean I have to date him.”

  True, but when Emma had overheard her and Greg at the retirement party, she’d got the distinct impression that Stacey nurtured a soft spot for Greg. The mild-mannered engineer would be a good match for Stacey. But given the terrible tragedy in Stacey’s past, Greg would have to move very slowly and gently with her.

  “My car’s not here.”
Stacey sat up as they pulled up outside her house, its driveway empty. “I hope Jackie’s all right.”

  Emma got out and walked Stacey to her door. With all this talk of break-ins, she wanted to make sure her friend was safely inside.

  The porch light was on, illuminating a bunch of flowers lying on the doormat.

  “Hey, those are pretty,” Emma said. She glanced at Stacey, who was hanging back, her mouth slightly agape. “Aren’t you going to pick them up?”

  Stacey shook her head, so Emma scooped up the bunch of red and yellow zinnias. She held them out to Stacey, but her friend backed away, fumbling her key into the door.

  “It must be a mistake. Those aren’t for me.”

  Emma transferred her puzzled glance from Stacey to the flowers. “Maybe they’re for Jackie. You can ask her when she gets home.”

  But still Stacey refused to touch the flowers. She edged into her house and turned back, holding the door. “Please, can you take them with you?”

  “Well, sure, but—”

  “Thanks for the lift home. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

  The door shut in Emma’s face before she could utter another word. She stared at the door in surprise for a few moments, then turned and walked back to her car, where she plopped the zinnias on the passenger seat. Well, that was a very odd ending to the evening.

  When she reached home, she examined the bunch of flowers more closely. They were enclosed in cellophane wrap, but there was no card. If it had been Greg, surely he would’ve left a note tucked into the flowers? Maybe the note had fallen out during transport, or been blown away by the wind. Or maybe the person responsible had deliberately not included a card. Now that was a little unsettling.

  It occurred to her that maybe the flowers were for Jackie. Delivered by her ex partner. Her abusive ex. Perhaps zinnias held a special meaning, which explained why Stacey had been so anxious for Emma to take the flowers away before Jackie got home. She didn’t want her nervous friend to get spooked.

  Emma climbed out of her car, marched to the garbage bin, and flung the flowers inside. Dusting her hands, she went inside.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hi, Emma!”

  “Hey, Gabby.” Emma smiled at the energetic young woman who was limbering up beside her. Emma had just managed to drag herself out of bed for the fitness class, but Gabby looked like she was ready to run a marathon.

  “Hope you didn’t take what I said about Kenneth Bischoff the wrong way,” Gabby said with a quick glance over her shoulder. People were still filing into the class, and Wesley hadn’t appeared yet.

  “Oh, I’m very grateful for your advice.”

  “Good.” Gabby nodded. “Mr. Bischoff’s been acting real strange these past few days. He’s barely been in the office at all, and when he is, he locks himself in the office and won’t tell me what’s going on. If you ask me, it looks like he won’t be in business for much longer. I’ll have to find another job, but I won’t be sorry to leave, that’s for sure.”

  Wesley entered the room, and the conversation ended. As Emma lunged and punched and perspired, she thought about what Gabby had said. She was willing to bet Kenneth Bischoff’s business problems were all tied up with his personal ones. Without his wife, his façade of business success would crumble, and with that his political connections. Bischoff could not afford for his wife to find out about his mistress. Had he tried to break into Faye’s house in an attempt to get rid of the photo evidence? It was a strong possibility.

  At the end of the class, once more Wesley hung back to chat to Emma. She wasn’t imagining things; he did seem attracted to her, and she found his attention flattering, especially as they didn’t bump into Owen and Sherilee this morning.

  “Want to grab something at the juice bar?” Wesley asked with a friendly glint in his eye. “I always get a protein smoothie around about this time. It’s great for building up muscle tissue.”

  Emma hesitated. “I’d love to, but I have to run an errand before work. Some other time maybe?” She gave him a smile to show that she wasn’t making excuses. She really did have to go over to Faye’s to feed Pepper.

  “Sure.” His confident answer indicated he assumed she was telling the truth. “I’ll see you around.”

  She sauntered out, thinking that joining the gym had been one of her better decisions.

  ***

  “I want candy!’ Pepper squawked, bobbing up and down in anticipation as he caught sight of the chopped up melon Emma had prepared for him.

  Had Faye been singing the sixties hit to him? Maybe the bird brought out the softer side in the old woman. Emma slipped the tin cup filled with melon into the cage and secured it to the bars. Pepper aimed a half-hearted nip at her hand, but he was more interested in the fruit. He grabbed a piece in his beak, then, holding it in one claw, bit into it.

  “You’re beginning to like me, aren’t you, pretty boy?” Emma crooned.

  Pepper merely made a ‘grr’ sound, all his attention focused on his treat.

  She bundled up the soiled newspapers and carried them out to the kitchen. After she’d stuffed them into the waste bin, she glanced about her. Now that she was ninety-nine percent sure that Faye’s fall had been no accident, her main suspect was still Kenneth Bischoff. She hadn’t yet got a firm alibi out of him, but in the meantime she could have a look around Faye’s house for any clue that he had been there.

  She stepped out the house. The rear deck wrapped around the house, meaning whoever had assaulted Faye had most likely hidden around the corner, out of view from the kitchen window. She began a thorough examination of the entire deck. She looked under pot plants, peered through cracks in the decking, and knelt under the crawlspace, risking contact with spiders and creepy crawlies. Nothing. She supposed that Sherilee had already searched the deck anyway.

  Heaving a sigh of disappointment, she returned inside and checked on Pepper. He had gobbled up all the melon already.

  “I want candy,” he yapped at her.

  “Sorry, that’s all for now. You have your yummy pellets still.” Pepper hunched his shoulders and shuffled away. She had thought about letting him out of his cage—he must be going stir crazy by now—but once he was out she knew it would take some effort to coax him back in, and she couldn’t spare the time this morning. She’d let him have some exercise when she returned at the end of the day.

  “Goodbye, Pepper.”

  He ignored her.

  Grabbing her bag, she headed out, making sure to lock the back door behind her. As she walked around the side of the house, a small scrap of paper under a bush caught her attention. Faye wouldn’t like rubbish accumulating in her yard. She bent over and scooped up the litter. It was a business card for Tucker’s Bistro.

  A nasty chill ran over Emma, raising goose bumps on her bare arms. The white card was slightly crumpled at the corners, but it was dry and the print was still bold and unfaded. It hadn’t lain here for months. Last Friday it had poured with rain during the day, so the card must have been dropped after that, like on Saturday. She fingered the sharp edges as unwelcome thoughts chased around inside her head.

  Alvin Tucker must have been here. Alvin, who stood to lose thousands of dollars if Faye chose to sue him as she’d threatened. Alvin, who had a very good motive for wanting Faye out of the way.

  She shook her head. How could it be Alvin? She’d known him all her life; he was a born and bred Greenville man, a pillar of the community. Alvin loved cooking and making people happy. He didn’t creep up behind old women and push them down stairs. But maybe he’d been driven to despair. He hadn’t told his wife about the potential bill they faced. The pressure of keeping such a huge secret from her might have become too much to bear.

  She’s walked over me for the last time. Alvin’s angry outburst about Faye came back to haunt Emma.

  The sick feeling in her stomach persisted as she got into her car. When her phone rang, she welcomed the distraction from her milling thoughts.

&
nbsp; “Emma? It’s me, Stacey.”

  “Oh, hi, Stacey. Is everything okay?” Immediately her thoughts jumped to last night and the mystery bunch of flowers. “You didn’t get more flowers today, did you?”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” Stacey answered hurriedly in a low voice. “I’d appreciate it if we could keep that between the two of us.”

  “Sure, no problem.” The last thing Emma wanted was to upset Jackie. That woman was already too much on edge. “So what are you calling about?”

  “I have Alvin Tucker’s check for the retirement party. You can pick it up any time.”

  The nausea was back. Alvin, again. And the check he was so desperate for. “Thanks, you’re a star. I’ll come by and get it right now, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Of course. See you soon.”

  Emma drove to the municipal offices with a growing lump of dread lodged in the pit of her stomach. She collected the check from Stacey.

  “How are things going with Richard’s replacement?” she asked. She was stalling going to Alvin’s, and she knew it.

  “He’s fine.” Stacey smiled. “Even though he’s no Richard.” Her gaze veered past Emma, and a pink blush colored her cheeks.

  “Hi, Emma.” Greg Foster walked up and leaned an elbow at the counter. “Hey, Stacey.” His friendly smile widened for the assistant. Stacey’s eyes brightened before she made a show of shuffling some papers, but she didn’t fool Emma; Greg was the reason her face had lit up.

  The sooner she recognized her feelings, the better, Emma thought. Stacey had a nice guy just dying to become better acquainted with her. If only she’d let down her guard and give Greg a chance.

  Deciding to give the two some time alone, Emma waved at them and took her leave. She had a task to do, one she wasn’t looking forward to.

  ***

  Even though it wasn’t yet ten and the restaurant was shut, she knew that Alvin would be inside, either doing food prep or working in his office, so she walked around to the rear of the building and rapped on the service door. A minute later, it opened a few inches and Alvin peered out. For a moment she was too shocked to respond. Alvin looked terrible. Huge bags weighed down his bloodshot eyes, his face was pasty white, and his thinning hair seemed to have gone gray overnight.