The Devil Wore Sneakers

by Nora LeDuc

  The Devil Wore Sneakers

  By Nora DeDuc

  Copyright © 2015 by Nora LeDuc

  Published 2015 by Nora LeDuc

  Cover art by Patti Roberts

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Contact Information: NoraLeDuc@ yahoo.com

  Cover by: http://paradoxbooktrailerproductions.blogspot.com

  THE DEVIL WORE SNEAKERS

  Love and Mystery in the 6-oh-3 – Book 2

  Who shot Lucy Watson’s estranged brother, the popular high school teacher who brought snacks for the staff and volunteered to help troubled students?

  When Lucy Watson returns to her hometown in New Hampshire to bury her brother, she learns law enforcement is looking into several suspects. But soon the search for the killer grows intensely personal for Lucy. The police discover a fierce argument occurred the day of the murder between Lucy’s brother and his best friend Liam McAllister, Lucy’s first love. The cops shift their focus to Liam.

  Determined to get justice, Lucy becomes involved in the mystery and must choose to put her faith in Liam one last time, or face the truth; she is in love with her brother’s murderer.

  When former bad boy Liam McAllister runs into Lucy Watson, he feels the familiar hunger and tug of attraction that they once shared. Since their breakup five years ago, he’s regretted ending their relationship and dreams of winning her back. Now is his chance. He invites her to his bar and grill to show he’s a reformed, self-made businessman. But his plan comes apart. The bank threatens foreclosure on his establishment, and he falls under suspicion for the death of his pal and Lucy’s brother. Liam struggles to overcome his personal challenges while proving he’s changed. Can he convince Lucy to trust him, or is it too late for a second shot at love?

  Praise for Nora LeDuc

  GONE BEFORE GOODBYE: Sweet N Sassy Sweet N Sassy Book A Holics rated it 5 of 5 stars. Doris’s Review: “You have to read this book! Entertaining . . . keeps you guessing all the way to the very end! I give this book 5 stars!”

  TRUST ME: “The suspense built steadily and unpredictably. Trust Me is a must read.”

  – Long and Short Reviews

  DEAD WOMEN TELL NO LIES: “This author writes an outstanding romantic suspense. One of the best I have read in a long time. I would absolutely recommend highly— 5 Flowers— I loved this book! It’s on my keeper shelf!”

  – It’s Raining Books

  “STAGING MURDER absolutely kept me glued to my eReader. I was caught up in the suspense, quite curious about the murder, the threats and what they all meant for Ava.”

  – Jennifer Porter, Romance Novel News

  “Impressively crafted, PICK UP LINES FOR MURDER is an enjoyable suspense thriller.”

  – Josee Morgan, Apex Reviews

  MURDER CAME CALLING: “A Night Owl Romance Book Review TOP PICK!”

  MURDER BY HEART: “Tension begins on the first page and doesn’t end until an unexpected culprit is revealed in the last few pages. This cleverly crafted story is filled with sexual tension that neither the hero nor the heroine wants to recognize and an abundance of action as they try to outwit a vicious killer.”

  – Donna M. Brown, Romantic Times Book Reviews

  LOVE’S WICKED JEWEL: “Several of the scenes contain wry humor that binds all into a tidy bundle of compelling and suspenseful romance.”

  – Faith V. Smith, Romantic Times Book Reviews

  Dedication

  To all my fans, thanks for reading

  my books and keeping the faith.

  Chapter 1

  March 11

  After thirty years, bad boy Ryan Watson was a winner. He’d show them all.

  Tomorrow, the principal would announce the quarter’s high honor roll. His students would own it. Yup, he’d be the shining star of Barley, New Hampshire and the most requested teacher in this smallopolis of five thousand residents.

  He wished his sister Lucy were here for his big moment. His gaze fell on his laptop sitting on the desk, and his musings turned to the emails about his overdue payments. Guess it was good Lucy had moved. She always dug the truth out of him. If she were here, she’d find out about his bills and lecture him on his finances.

  The clock chimed midnight, and he refocused his thoughts. He’d love to squeeze in another online game, but not tonight. He snapped off his fifty-inch TV on the pine-paneled wall. As he got up from his leather recliner, his husky rose from his spot on the rug. The dog nudged him with his nose, and Ryan scratched his pet’s ear. “We need our beauty rest, Target.”

  His shoe crunched on the carpet. He bent and found Bella’s earring. Her stuff was scattered through his house since they’d spent the weekend creating the sequel to the Kama Sutra.

  These boring nights tempted him to call her. If he did, she’d complain he’d woken her and go on and on about setting the date for their wedding. Forget that. He missed the days when she had been hot for phone sex.

  His thoughts jumped to the cute cheerleader who wore the tight pants and low-cut blouses in his fourth-period class. She’d mentioned stopping in for his one-on-one tutoring. A big test was coming up next week, but it was way too late—

  The doorbell buzzed. She’d come.

  Target growled.

  Yeah, teenagers operated on different time zones than everyone else. “Quiet, Targ. Don’t scare the guest. I have a few ideas for her.”

  Peering into the mirror over the sofa, he messed his black hair and rolled up the sleeves of his blue shirt. His student loved to give him sympathy when he told her he was up late working on his lesson plans. He grinned.

  The buzz sounded again.

  “One second.” He pivoted to the dog. “Stay.”

  His pet sat. Ryan strode into the tiled hallway. The outside light spilled through the entryway’s frosted-glass window.

  “Let the celebration begin,” he whispered and flung the door open.

  A flashlight’s beam shone in his eyes, blinding him.

  “What—?” He raised his palms and squinted at his guest.

  A blast echoed in his ears. A killing pain slammed into his chest, knocking him off his feet. He landed with a smack.

  “Help,” he gulped. Across the floor, he saw sneakers. His sight blurred and dimmed. The cold from the tiles seeped through him. Hurt. So bad.

  “Can’t breathe.” Please, God. Tomorrow. My chance.

  He looked up into the fading face of his visitor. “Wh-y?”

  Chapter 2

  March 14

  Lucy Watson hesitated on the stair of the Concord Coach Bus. It was noon and she was back in Barley— the last place she wanted to be. Okay, she was twenty-six-years old. She’d handle it. Mentally, she recited a line from a prayer. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. Yes, she was here for Ryan. She couldn’t change that.

  She lifted her rollaway bag and stepped onto the pavement. The driver told her to have a good day. A lump forming in her throat prevented her from thanking him.

  The wheels on her suitcase rattled and hit every bump in the lot of Gage’s Garage, slowing her progress. From the pumps came the click of a motorist filling his car’s tank.

  “Lucy Watson. Sorry about your brother.” Lanky, forty-something-year-old Johnny Gage hovered under his sign “Gas-Bus Tickets & Collectibles” nailed above his office door. The man worked and lived at the station, which he owned. He removed a ra
g from the rear pocket of his standard tan overalls and wiped his hands. “Whole town is shook up over Ryan’s death.”

  Lucy bet Ryan’s murder had shocked everyone in Barley. With a nod, she plowed forward into the cool March breeze. The wind blew through her blue fleece jacket and wrapped her dark skirt around her legs. Two senior citizens dressed in camouflage passed by without a glance. Snatches of their discussion about the spring turkey hunt floated to her.

  On the corner sat Flo’s Salon and Haircuts. The shop displayed the same male mannequin with the mullet haircut as the last day she’d walked past.

  If only her next few hours involved a beauty treatment and not a meeting about the stomach-churning facts of Ryan’s last night. I can get through a meeting.

  When she reached the sidewalk, she scanned the next block of Main Street. Except for two empty storefronts, nothing had changed since she’d fled five years ago.

  She walked toward the police station. The wheels of her suitcase hummed while she passed by Smitty’s Funeral Home, Barley Real Estate, and New Again, the thrift store. Crossing the road, she paused at the gray-sided police station. Near the entrance, an arrow directed people to the legal aid office in the rear. She drew a shaking hand through her tangled black hair, smoothed it, and went inside the station. A young man in uniform glanced up as she approached the counter.

  “I’m Lucy Watson. I have an appointment with Chief Sullivan.”

  The officer’s bored expression disappeared from his square face. He leaned over the divider, and his eyes seemed to glow. “I’m Officer Gary. I’ll tell the chief you’re here.”

  He picked up his phone, and she wandered across the floor while he spoke. The glass entry allowed a slice of natural light into the dim lobby. A bench pressed against the wall offered a place to wait.

  “Miss Watson, follow me.” The officer led her through a long room with three officers working at their desks. They stared at her as she passed by, pulling her suitcase. She and Officer Gary walked through a short hall where her escort knocked on the door with the nameplate “Chief Sullivan.”

  “Come in,” said a gruff voice.

  Lucy entered, and the chief rose from his desk. Everything about the middle-aged man was extra large: long face, big hands, and broad chest. At five feet, she had to crank her head back to greet him. He waved her to a chair and settled in his seat.

  “I just came from your brother’s house.” He fixed his gaze on his sandwich sitting near the files on his desktop while he spoke. “I was going over the scene with the forensic techie from the state lab. The blood results should be in soon.”

  She pictured Ryan’s blood spurting from his chest as he lay dying. Nauseous, she tightened her lips and shoved the image out of her thoughts.

  The chief grabbed a soda can on the corner of his desk and gulped a mouthful.

  Maybe she’d be able to leave after the funeral. She clasped her cold hands together on her lap.

  “As I told you on the phone, we found no signs of forced entry at your brother’s house. He died from a single gunshot wound to the chest. He must have opened to whoever shot him. We’re waiting for the lab report on the ammo, too. The medical examiner established time of death as between ten pm and midnight on the eleventh. At that hour, we can rule out a Girl Scout selling cookies.”

  Details. She needed a name, an arrest. “But who killed my brother?”

  Sullivan stuck a toothpick in the side of his mouth. “We cleared your stepmother in Rhode Island and verified your alibi. You seem impatient, Miss Watson.”

  “Sorry, Chief. I’m only in Barley to bury Ryan and make sure his killer is arrested. Then I’m leaving. Who do you suspect of killing him?” Her throat closed on her last words. She longed for a glass of water.

  “Don’t know, yet. We haven’t confirmed the alibi his ex-wife, Clarissa’s gave us. The night of his shooting, she spent the evening alone at her house. No love lost between them, I understand. Clarissa took your brother for everything she could get.”

  Their marriage seven years ago had been a one-year disaster that had left them both bitter. Still, they’d been unable to let go of each other and went through periods of reconciliations that ended in drama. “It’s hard to imagine she’d kill him when she enjoyed tormenting him so much. It was as if they were addicted to each other. They might have changed while I was gone.”

  “Nope, that’s how everyone described them. Your brother belonged to AA?”

  She shrugged. “Ryan and I didn’t talk much. My last communication with him was a Christmas card with R at the bottom.”

  “We’re also investigating Liam McAllister.”

  “Liam?” A knot formed in her stomach.

  The chief eyed her with interest. “Surprised? How many years since you’ve seen him?”

  “Five.” She forced herself to relax her fisted hands. “He wouldn’t shoot Ryan. They were friends. Even if that changed, I know Liam’s not a killer.”

  “A witness who doesn’t want to be named reported them arguing near the Mad Moose bar and believed they would come to blows. Your brother died later that night.”

  Strange. “What did they quarrel about?”

  “We’re looking into the squabble. Any ideas?”

  “Me? No.” The chief had nothing. Her head hurt, but his last accusation irritated her more than her headache. “One fight doesn’t mean Liam would shoot my brother.”

  “You were engaged to McAllister once, right?”

  She went still at the familiar ache inside her. She couldn’t explain what she felt when her relationship with Liam came up. Was it anger, regret, or pain over the wasted four years of dating? Maybe it was the way he’d broken up with her.

  Liam had ended their relationship on the day she’d expected a proposal. Then he’d gone off to party all night. Yes, that was the problem. No matter how hard she tried to forget, their last evening together was seared into her memory.

  The chief cleared his throat.

  “My relationship with Liam didn’t affect his with Ryan. They hung out long before Liam dated me.”

  “McAllister showed up at your brother’s house when we arrived. Claimed he’d driven out because he was worried he hadn’t heard from Ryan in a while.”

  Was he saying Liam knew her brother was dead and wanted to find out what the police had learned?

  Sullivan sat silent, waiting for her reaction.

  She shrugged. “Liam would be concerned.”

  “We need to—”

  “Investigate him. I understand.” She grabbed the handle of her suitcase, ready to leave and end this painful conversation.

  “A couple more things, Miss Watson.” The chief shuffled through the papers in the folder. “Your ex-sister-in-law, Clarissa, gave us an inventory of your brother’s belongings.”

  Sister? Clarissa was never a sister. In high school, she’d been on the edge of the popular group. Marriage to Ryan had provided her a status with the partiers in town, which Ryan and Liam led.

  “My brother didn’t own much. His furniture consisted of hand-me-downs. He had a used truck that he bought on credit. What little he had, Clarissa’s shark of a lawyer snapped up.” Had his finances changed?

  “Clarissa listed your brother’s hunting rifles he inherited from your grandfather. There’s no record of insurance for them.”

  “Gramps hunted and collected guns. Both he and Ryan thought insurance was a waste of money. I’m sure my brother didn’t value the weapons or else he’d have sold them. Why? Were they worth a lot?”

  “They’re missing. Do you know anything about them?”

  She shrugged. “Gramps and Ryan kept them in a locked gun box, but Ryan’s moved a couple of times since I’ve seen him. Ryan didn’t hunt. He might have gotten rid of them.” Typical Ryan. He would sell Gramps’s things without considering their sentimental value.

  “No gun box turned up on the premises, and the investigators found no weapons in the house.”

  Sullivan
stared at her with such intensity; she doubted she wasn’t a suspect. Then it hit her. “Someone shot him for the firearms?”

  “People will kill for less, Miss Watson.”

  “Are they worth much?”

  “Six rifles and the cabinet? Not cheap, and people who legally can’t get their hands on a weapon are willing to pay a little more. McAllister listed the ones he remembered.” The chief handed her a piece of paper. “Are these familiar?”

  She read the names and manufacturers and passed the inventory to him. “I’m sorry. Yes, I shot at cans in the backyard with my grandfather, but I never was interested in his hunting rifles. The monikers mean nothing to me.”

  “We’re watching online sites in case they turn up for sale.” He folded his hands together on the desk. “Your brother owned a pet, right?”

  “Target.”

  He nodded. “When we arrived, the door was open. The animal must have taken off. We searched the woods, but didn’t find him.”

  “Ryan considered Target his best friend. He raised him from a pup.” Her brother showed a kinder side of himself when he was with his dog. If only he’d shared a slice of his heart with the people close to him.

  “I have the animal’s picture for you.” The chief sifted through the piles of papers.

  She’d go search for Target. He didn’t deserve to be forgotten or lost. Would he remember her and come when she called? Target could be lost forever. She shuddered. Think of something else, a happier time.

  She imagined her brother before a big date in high school. He’d be checking out his hair in the mirror, flashing his dimples. When people remarked that Lucy and Ryan looked like twins, she would elbow him and say thanks, but they weren’t related. Her parents had adopted her brother from a pack of wild wolves.