by Lynn Cahoon
“Just grab yourself something and come sit down. I want to relax for a minute.” He reached down and petted Emma. “How was your shopping trip?”
“Interesting.” I sat down across from him. “Did you know Pampered Pet Palace sells poison tree frogs?”
Greg didn’t look up from petting Emma; she was loving the attention. “Really?”
“I ran into Anne from the bank. She owns snakes and frogs.” He couldn’t yell at me later for not telling him everything.
“Interesting. She seemed more like a cat person.” Greg sipped his iced tea, now watching me.
My head bobbled like one of those ball player statues you get for attending games. “Exactly, that’s what I told her.”
“What else happened on your trip?” Greg was trying to make conversation and stay away from the facts of the murder. I could tell he was trying to lead me into a different conversation.
“Fine, I peeked at Doc’s report and looked up the toxin. So sue me.” I leaned forward. “But don’t you find it interesting that Anne might own the same type of frog?”
“Might or does? Did you ask her?”
I shook my head. “I was checking out and she was going into the store. The conversation was kind of short.”
“Do I have to say it?” Greg looked beaten down, and I felt guilty for even bringing up the subject.
“Stay out of the investigation. But you can’t come back and say I didn’t tell you what I knew. Like the girl sucking face with Kent the day he died.” I tapped my finger on the table for emphasis. Not hard, but enough that Greg grinned. “I’m serious. You tell me to stay out of the investigation, then you complain that I’m not telling you what I know. You can’t have it both ways.”
“Well, I could, if you would just stay out of the investigation. But you’re right about the beach meeting being important. It actually gave us a clue to follow. We got a plate off the beach security tape, but the car she drove was a rental. I’m talking to the rental agent tomorrow; they’re back on shift then. So, point taken.” He rubbed his temple. “This case is filled with angry, betrayed women; interviewing them all is giving me the hives. I just want to have a nice dinner with my girlfriend and not talk about finding a murderer. Who would have thought that South Cove was such a den for killers?”
I laughed at that and put on a fake accent. “But he was always so nice and quiet, you would have never known he was killing people right next door to our retirement home.”
That made Greg smile. “Exactly. So can we change the subject?”
“Aunt Jackie came by.”
He groaned. “Not exactly the change I wanted.”
“Okay, but FYI, I’m taking her into the city to talk to an attorney tomorrow afternoon. Just in case you’re looking for me.” I stood and walked over to the fridge. “I’ve got to make a salad to go with the kabobs. Caesar or garden?”
“Garden. I’ll help.” He came up behind me and pulled me back into a hug. “I adore you, you know that.”
“Back atcha.” I leaned back into his arms and for a minute, the two of us were all that mattered in the universe. Emma barked, her ball in her mouth.
“Hold on, girl. I’ve got some cooking to do.” Greg nodded to the door. “You want to go out to play while we get this done?”
Another bark and Emma went flying to the screen. After letting her out, Greg paused for a moment, staring out at the backyard.
“Hey, I thought you were helping?” I dug out the lettuce and other salad fixings, including the six bottles of different dressings I had in the fridge door. He walked back over, picked out home-style ranch, and pushed the rest toward me.
“What do you want?”
I smiled. “World peace, a chicken in every pot, and a good book to take me away.”
“Nice, but I meant for salad dressing. No use leaving all these out.” He glanced out the window again. “When did Gleason say they’d make a decision on the wall? I’d like to do some landscaping out back this summer if it’s not the birthplace of South Cove.”
Shrugging, I began to stick meat and veggies onto the metal skewers. “This summer, I hope. At least that’s what the last letter from the commission said. One way or the other, I’ll be glad when it’s over. Do you know how many townies ask me about it each week? I can’t tell if they’re rooting for me or seeing if I’m as crazy as they think.”
While dinner was grilling, Greg’s phone rang. He groaned and pulled it close to read the display. Answering, he shook his head at me. “Hey, Jim, what’s up?”
Jim King, Greg’s brother and the owner of the painting company whose crew painted my house, didn’t care for me one bit. He was hard and fast on Team Sherry, even though Greg tried to tell me I was paranoid. Last Thanksgiving, the guy had come for the meal, but spent most of his time outside on the deck with Greg and the other men. I took Greg’s glass into the kitchen to refill our iced tea and to give him some privacy for his call.
Greg met me at the door, phone call done. “You don’t have to leave when he calls, you know.”
I passed him his glass and sat on the swing. “I just like to give you some privacy.”
He came and sat by me. “I think it’s more than that, but I’ll let you slide. He’s taking us on a fishing trip next Sunday.”
“Fishing? Where?” I wondered how far into the woods we’d have to go to find a lake.
Greg’s face almost exploded, his grin was that wide. “The ocean, silly. We’ll be pulling in the big boys, and we can stock that freezer of yours to the gills.”
“Bad joke.” I thought about our schedule. Sundays were typically our free day. We never planned anything without consulting the other. “I’ll tell Amy we can’t do breakfast. I suspect you’ll want to leave at some ungodly hour.”
“Nah, I told Jim we’d meet him at the dock at five.” He peeked under the grill hood. “Grab a plate, they’re done.”
“Who goes fishing in the evening?” I reached through the open screen and grabbed the platter I’d set out. I stood next to him as he set the grilled kabobs on my plate.
He reached down and turned off the gas, taking the plate from me and holding the kitchen door open. “Five in the morning.”
“On a Sunday? And you said it wasn’t ungodly.” I took out two dinner plates and handed him one. We didn’t talk as we were dishing up the salad to go with the meat. Then we sat at the table in our regular chairs and started eating. Greg knew he could be called back to the station at any time. Which made me wonder why he thought he could get away for a full day of fishing. “Will the case be locked up by then?”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Doesn’t matter. I’m instituting a No Work for Greg on Sunday rule. I’ve missed too many football games this season. Now that we can get outside again, we’re taking a day for ourselves.” He looked at me. “Tell me you’re on board.”
“Actually, I love the idea. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, though. You know how your job can be.” I poured balsamic vinaigrette over my salad and broke off a piece of the French loaf I’d bought in town.
“I know it won’t be possible every Sunday, but a guy’s got to set some limits. Otherwise his woman gets lonely.” He cocked his head at me. “Right?”
“Sometimes, but I get it. Your job is important. It’s not like you work in an office or in construction. Although there’s nothing wrong with those jobs, it’s just not as critical as being a detective.”
“We all have roles to play.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of my job, I’ve got to go. Someone from the DA’s office is coming over tomorrow to look over the case. Hopefully I’ll have a solid lead before he shows up.”
“Like what?” I smoothed some butter on the fresh bread.
He kissed me on the cheek. “Like who owns poison tree frogs in town.”
CHAPTER 15
The next morning, I’d finished the commuter rush and was getting ready to turn the shop over to Toby when Cheryl Paine walked into the stor
e. Her black suit framed her slender frame and her hair was fashioned into a sharp, professional look. A purple silk shirt peeked out from the black jacket, and the gold necklace around her neck was tasteful, yet reeked of expensive. She had a large black leather bag over her shoulder. She saw me watching her entrance and turned on the smile. Then she stopped walking when she recognized me.
“You were at the funeral home. Are you friends with that woman?” Her gaze turned cold on me.
I smiled and walked toward her, hand outstretched. “I’m Jill Gardner, owner of Coffee, Books, and More. And more importantly, I am definitely not friends with Sherry King.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she took my hand. “Sorry, it’s been weird since Kent died. The police are asking all kinds of questions, like they think he was murdered or something.”
“You don’t?” I motioned to a table I’d cleaned earlier. “We can sit here. I’m alone in the shop until noon.”
Cheryl sat in one chair and put her bag in another. “You shouldn’t be alone ever. Not every person who walks in your front door is a customer looking for coffee.”
I let the comment slide. I was more interested in the question she’d dodged. “Did you get all the arrangements made? I haven’t heard about a funeral date or time.”
She pulled out her laptop. “Kent’s wishes were very specific. We’ll have a small family-only ceremony at graveside. Of course, you’re more than welcome to donate in his name to the Cancer Cures for Kids. His mom was a big supporter.”
I wondered if Kent knew a church full of grieving women wouldn’t do anyone any good. Especially if they started comparing notes. I nodded and wrote the name of the charity down in my notebook. “We’ll be sure to donate. Thanks for letting me know.”
She stared at the laptop, like she could will it to boot up. Finally she looked at me. “I hate that we were estranged at the time of his death. I barely talked to him anymore. I think he felt more like my security client than someone I used to share a bed with. And when he started dating that woman, he became even more distant.”
I decided to push my luck. “Did you know he was doing drugs? Maybe that’s why he was distant?”
“That’s a lie. A lie that woman is telling everyone. Kent wouldn’t do drugs; he knew his body was a temple.” Cheryl’s hand began to shake.
“I guess I was misinformed. Let’s get back to why you’re here. Can you tell me what kind of system would work best for this size of building? I’ll need a quote for the apartment upstairs, as well. My aunt lives there.”
Cheryl sat straighter and blinked away the tears. “You’re right. We should deal with today, right?”
“Exactly.”
Cheryl took me through a list of questions, designed to lead me to what I suspected was a top-of-the-line system and much more than I needed. But I let her play her sales game. By the time she’d finished talking about all the advantages of installing one of her company’s systems, I was almost sold, yet something was nagging at me. “What about all those security problems the bank’s been having? I’ve heard it’s the underground power lines or phone lines in the area that’s been setting off the alarm? I don’t want to be chasing after errors in the system.”
“Oh, you’ve heard about those?” Cheryl focused on the computer screen again. I’d been with the girl for twenty minutes and I’d found her tell. She might not have been lying, but I knew when she didn’t want to talk about something. “Every system can have a few glitches at first. I’m sure we’ve taken care of those here in South Cove.”
“Too bad the bank was the test system. Seems like that would be the one place you’d want your system to be perfect.”
Cheryl handed me a pamphlet that went over the cost of installation and the monthly service fees, along with her card. “Unfortunate, yes, but not unusual. I can almost assure you that there will be no further issues with the Stay Safe Security systems in the town of South Cove.”
After Cheryl left, customers kept me busy until Aunt Jackie came in, dressed in a skirted suit that looked even more expensive and polished than Cheryl’s had. She eyed my jeans and Yellowstone T-shirt. “You’re not wearing that.”
“I’m not the one in trouble, so yes, I am wearing this.” I gave my aunt a kiss on the cheek and finished the book order for the week. I’d found a new mystery I’d already tucked into my purse to keep me busy while I waited for my aunt to talk to her lawyer.
Toby arrived and I went over a few pickup orders I had taken for that afternoon. A group of women were having a retreat over at Main Street Books and had ordered a selection of coffees and treats for their afternoon break. Mary had called in the order, apologizing for the lateness. She had told them she would do the additional break, but with the excitement the last few days, she’d forgotten to bake.
“She’ll be here at two to pick up.” I gave the list to Toby, who nodded.
“No problem.” He picked up the flyer Cheryl had left. “You considering this company for the shop?”
“I talked to their salesperson this morning. Have you heard anything about the company?”
“Nothing good. I’ll get you some names of a few guys who are housed out of Bakerstown. Stay Safe Security has a PO Box as a headquarters in Colorado and well, you know about the bank’s issues. The auditors are insisting on the branch cancelling their contract and hiring a new provider.” He lowered his voice. “I’m only telling you this to keep you from getting into the same problem.”
“I won’t tell Greg you said anything,” I assured my barista.
Aunt Jackie came in from the back. “You won’t tell Greg what?”
I hustled my aunt out of the shop. “Call if you need us.” Although we wouldn’t be in a position to help for hours. Maybe I should have called in Sasha for the day. She’d started taking classes at the local university, so she’d cut her hours from the full-time position we’d carved out for her after the end of her internship. I dialed the shop’s number on my cell as we walked to my Jeep.
“Coffee, Books, and More, how can I help you?” Toby’s baritone boomed through the speaker.
“I’m impressed. Usually you just say, ‘Talk to me.’” I clicked open the doors with my key fob and climbed inside, waiting for Aunt Jackie to settle in the passenger seat.
“I saw you dial the phone out the front window. So what do you want?” Toby went back to being the smart aleck he typically portrayed.
“If it gets too busy, call Sasha. She doesn’t have classes on Tuesday, so she might come in to help.”
“No way. If she doesn’t have classes, she needs to be studying. I can’t believe the load she’s taking this year. Did you know she wants to go pre-law?” Toby’s voice was tinged with humor.
“I tried to talk her out of it, but she’s stubborn. I just hope she doesn’t become a police officer.” I tapped Aunt Jackie’s unfastened seat belt with my finger. She frowned but clicked the belt on, holding her hands out in a surrender motion.
“Nothing wrong with wanting to serve and protect. There are a lot worse jobs out there. See you tomorrow.” Then my barista hung up on me.
“I guess he was done talking.” I put my phone in one of the cubbies by my seat and started the engine.
“You mother-hen the boy. I swear, he could rob us blind and you’d still be hanging up his coat for him when he walked in the door.” Aunt Jackie sniffed.
“That’s not true.” Well, it was a little true. I did hang the guy’s coat up more times than not because he had a bad habit of throwing it on my desk when he arrived. I went with the safe response. “He’s a police officer. He would never steal from us.”
“Trust the person, not the role,” my aunt muttered. Then she turned toward the window and watched the scenery as we drove into the city. I wondered if she was considering whether her act of kindness for a friend would get her ten to twenty. Part of me wanted to believe everything would be all right. The other side made my guts clench when I thought of the woman spending even a sho
rt time in jail. She wasn’t made for rough living. Aunt Jackie thought camping was driving up to Palo Alto and staying in a bed-and-breakfast.
Finally, I thought of a subject that didn’t lead back to her life of crime. “So, what’s going on with you and Josh? At the Business-to-Business meeting it looked like the two of you were cooling the relationship.” I turned down the stereo that had been blasting my all-Dixie-Chicks, all-the-time mix CD that I’d made last weekend.
“We’re taking things slow. He’s been hinting about making the situation permanent, but I’ve told him I have no interest in getting married again. Once was enough.” Aunt Jackie didn’t turn to look at me when she answered.
Whoa. That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. The thought of calling Josh Thomas, uncle anything, made my skin crawl. Thank goodness my aunt was still sane and not leaning toward making it legal. “I thought it was just fun. You two don’t seem to be compatible.”
Now she did turn toward me, her gaze accusatory. “Now you’re just being rude. Josh and I have many interests in common. Did you know he collects rare coins?”
“I didn’t know you collected rare coins.”
Aunt Jackie’s cheeks bloomed pink. “Well, I always wanted to, and now I do.”
“What else do you have in common?” Since she’d brought up the subject, I wasn’t going to let her off with just a mutual love of sorting through change drawers to find a lost prize.
She waved a slender hand, her nails done in a classic French tip and small age spots dotting the skin weaved with visible veins. “We both enjoy antiquing. I mean, it’s his job, but I’ve been very successful in finding several rare items in the last few trips we’ve taken.”
“That sounds riveting.” I turned the car onto the street where my old firm was located. I hadn’t been back to the office since I’d cleaned out my desk that last day, and for a minute, I regretted not picking a more formal outfit. More upscale to show I had made the right decision to leave. But my clothes didn’t signify my status, not anymore. Back when I was a lawyer, I spent hours getting the right brand of suits, the right shoes, and even the right briefcase. Now those hours were spent reading books, hanging with friends, and enjoying life. Yep, I’d made the right decision, no matter what my former coworkers thought about my worn but clean jeans.