Deena reached in her purse. She had a ten and a five. She grabbed them both. “Here,” she said, hoping it was enough.
By the look on his face, it was. “Thank you, Miss Deena. If I come across anything else, I’ll get in touch with you.”
“Do you need my card?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Nah, I can figure it out.”
That sent a chill down Deena’s spine.
He looked at Darlene. “Bye, sweetie. See ya around.”
“Not if I see you first,” she said and giggled.
He got out and Deena drove back toward downtown.
“He sure is sweet,” Darlene said, clutching her handbag in her lap.
“Yeah, for a conman.” Oops. Deena realized she was attacking Darlene’s friend. “I mean, he was awfully helpful. And tall. He was certainly tall.”
The smile returned to Darlene’s face. “You may not have realized this, but that’s how he got the nickname Tiny. Because he’s so tall. Isn’t that just hilarious?”
“Absolutely,” Deena said, nodding her head vigorously.
After a few minutes of silence, Darlene seemed to straighten her back. Her bright fingernails dug into the sides of her purse. “Boles. Now he’s another story. He can be dangerous.”
“Dangerous? Like how?”
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t put it past him to kill somebody if he got mad enough.”
Kill somebody? Oh dear.
Chapter 7
Gary was already home by the time Deena got back to the house. Instead of running up to greet her, Hurley sat curled up on his favorite rug in front of the patio door. Despite the mild weather outside, the room had a chill. Gary did not look up from the sports news show he was watching from his recliner.
“Hey, I’m home.” She used her most chipper tone.
“Hey,” Gary grumbled back.
“What’s eating you? Did you and Scott get in a quarrel already?” She tossed her purse on the coffee table and plopped down onto the sofa.
“Nope.”
Something was obviously wrong with her husband. Maybe one of his teams had lost whatever game was in season, or maybe his favorite team had traded away their best player. Those were the usual reasons for Gary to be grouchy.
Then she remembered what had happened earlier. “By the way, I have a bone to pick with you.”
He turned his head slowly toward her. “You have a bone to pick with me?”
“Yeah. When you left for the office this afternoon, you didn’t even say goodbye, much less give me a kiss.”
Crossing his arms, he let out a grunt. “I didn’t think you’d notice. You were so wrapped up in your story.”
“Well, I did,” she said. “And speaking of my story, I found out the possible name of the John Doe. I can’t print it yet without getting another source. I’m going to search online, but if I can’t find anything, I may have to tell Guttman.”
Gary sat silently and nodded.
“The man—Rocky B.— was picked up by an unidentified couple on the morning before he was found dead and hasn’t been seen by his friends since.”
“Huh.”
“You don’t seem very interested. Aren’t you excited about my progress?” Before he could answer, she remembered something else. “By the way, I had to give a guy named Tiny at the Pine Tree Motel fifteen bucks for some information. Do you want me to claim that as a business expense?”
Gary perked up. “Definitely. Let me get my yellow pad and I’ll write it out.” He hopped up from the chair and grabbed his briefcase from the kitchen table. “You are keeping up with your mileage too, right?”
She smiled. Whatever had sent him into a funk seemed to be gone. “Yes,” she called back as she pulled out her cell phone. “I’m using that mileage tracker you installed on my phone.” She tapped on the setting to mark that her previous drives were for business, not personal.
Gary wrote down all the particulars of her meeting with Tiny and even asked her a few questions.
Hurley came over and jumped in her lap, ready for his dinner as Gary fired up the grill.
After they ate and cleaned up, Deena headed for her office and began searching the internet for a Rocky B. in Texas. Without a full last name, her search was fruitless. She made a list of questions she wanted answers to. There were also a few people she needed to interview. She felt herself getting sleepy and decided it was time for bed.
She looked at the clock and realized it was too late to check on Edwin. She’d go see him first thing in the morning. Maybe by then he’d have noticed if anything was missing from his house. Turning off the computer and lights, she walked to the bedroom where Gary was lying in bed reading through a stack of documents.
“Did you get much done today?” she asked as she changed into pajamas.
“Actually, we did. We . . .”
Deena tuned Gary out as thoughts of Darlene’s warning about Boles filled her head. Should she say something to Detective Guttman? At this point, she wanted to play her cards close to the vest in order to make her story as fresh as possible. News traveled fast in the small town of Maycroft.
“Deena? Deena.” Gary’s voice broke back into her brain.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Were you even listening?”
She squirted a few drops of lotion on her hands and rubbed them together as she got into the bed. “Of course.”
Gary put the stack of papers on the nightstand. “Then yes or no?”
“Yes or no what?”
His jaw clenched and a vein popped out of his neck. “Are you still coming to the office tomorrow to help us assemble the new furniture?”
Deena could feel her husband’s piercing stare. She’d forgotten all about the promise she had made last week. She’d let him down today. She didn’t suppose she could get away with it again. “Of course,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.
“Thanks.” He leaned over and gave her a goodnight kiss.
As she turned off the lamp on her bedside table, she thought about all the things she would need to get done before her three o’clock story deadline. If she didn’t file a good follow-up story tomorrow, Dan would kill her. If she didn’t help Gary at his new office, he would kill her.
Either way, tomorrow she would be dead.
Chapter 8
The alarm clock buzzed and Deena slapped the snooze button for the second time. She could hear Gary turn off the shower, which meant she’d definitely have to get up soon. She pulled the comforter up over her head.
It wasn’t long before the aroma of coffee drifted under the covers and into her nose, delighting her olfactory senses. She squinched her eyes tighter, trying to will herself back to sleep. After all, it wasn’t like she was dying to jump out of bed and head out to assemble bookcases and credenzas. Maybe Gary would feel sorry for her and just let her sleep.
“Deeeena,” Gary said softly. “Time to get up.”
She lay under the covers wondering how the coffee smell could be so strong. He knew coffee was her weakness. Maybe if she sat really still, he would go away. But then she felt the pitter-patter of tiny feet and Hurley’s wet nose digging under the covers for her. That was the final blow. Gary knew she couldn’t resist coffee and the dog at the same time.
Throwing the covers back off her head, she stared at Gary, who stood in the doorway holding a steaming mug of coffee and the newspaper. She should have known he was fanning it at her to wake her up.
“Good morning.” He tossed the newspaper onto the bed. “Front-page story. Don’t you want to read it?”
She reached for the mug with one hand and scratched Hurley’s neck with the other. “I don’t have to read it. I wrote it.”
“But you haven’t seen it with the police sketch.”
He was right. She took a sip of coffee and let the hot liquid run down her insides. She took another and then another. When she felt like her eyes were finally open enough to read, she picked up the newspaper. Even t
hough the print was a little blurry, she resisted the urge to get her reading glasses. She was determined not to use them until it became absolutely necessary. It was vain, of course, but there was nothing pretty about getting older.
She read through the story again, and by the time she’d finished, she was itchier than ever to get back to her investigation. While she dressed and got ready, she hatched a plan to buy herself some time.
Gary came in and pointed to his watch. “It’s that time. Are you ready?”
She grabbed a light jacket and followed him out of the bedroom. Hurley gave her his sad-eyed look when he realized they were leaving, and Deena scratched his head and told him they’d see him later.
Once in the garage, she opened the door to Gary’s car and then stopped. “Oh, wait. I just remembered that I told Ian I would check on Edwin this morning. It will just take me a second.” She closed the car door and walked around to Gary’s side. “Hopefully he’s had breakfast, or I might have to fix him something. I’ll be as quick as I can. Want to come?”
Gary looked at his watch again. “Really? I wish you had told me earlier. You know how I hate to be late.”
Deena took a few steps toward Edwin’s house. “If you want, you can go ahead and I’ll meet you there.”
“Deena Jo . . .”
“Seriously. I’ll be right behind you.”
Gary dropped his shoulders. “Okay, but don’t be too long. Scott’s wife is going to be there too.”
“No problem,” she said and blew him a kiss. Then she headed across the lawn.
It wasn’t a lie. She had told Ian she would check on Edwin. All she really wanted to do was see if he recognized Rocky B. or had figured out what had happened to his driver’s license. As she crossed Edwin’s front yard, she stepped around a few muddy patches, realizing they must have had a light rain the night before.
It wasn’t surprising Edwin was not on his porch after the trying day he’d had before. She saw the newspaper on the porch, picked it up, and then rang the doorbell. She waited.
And waited.
She pressed the button again and could hear it ring inside. She felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as she put her ear near the door to see if she heard any noise on the other side. Surely nothing had happened since yesterday. That would be too coincidental. She slipped her hand into her purse to get her phone when she heard the deadbolt unlatch and the door start to open.
A fully dressed, clean-shaven Edwin Cooper stood in the doorway. “What do you want?”
“Oh,” Deena said, putting her hand to her chest. “You’re okay.”
“Of course I am,” he said and took the newspaper from her. “Come on in.”
She followed him inside as he went straight to the den and sat in his usual spot on the sofa. The TV was on and tuned to Wheel of Fortune. Deena was surprised since she thought the show didn’t come on until later in the afternoon.
Edwin picked up the remote and pressed a button. “I’m going to have to start the whole show over since you interrupted me.”
Now she understood. “I see you have it recorded.”
“Yep.” His worn, wrinkled face broke into a grin. “My granddaughter, Kitty, taught me how to record it. Now I can watch it anytime I want.”
“That’s great,” Deena said, looking around for evidence that Edwin had eaten breakfast.
“She’s a great gal. You should meet her sometime.”
Deena started for the kitchen. “I met her yesterday, remember?”
Edwin shooshed her as the show started up again.
There was an empty plate and cereal bowl in the sink. Obviously, Edwin had eaten dinner last night and breakfast that morning. She stepped back into the den. “Is Lillian coming by today?”
Edwin didn’t respond as he watched the contestants intently.
She repeated the question louder.
“Huh?” He didn’t take his eyes off the screen.
She walked over, picked up the remote, and pressed pause.
“Hey. What are you doing?”
Although she and Gary had never had children, she suspected this was what it felt like. “I asked you if your housekeeper was coming over today.”
“What day is it?”
“Tuesday.”
“No,” he croaked. “She only comes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Now give me that remote.”
Deena put it behind her back. “So she was here yesterday?”
“Yesterday was Monday, so yes. She was already gone before I got released from the slammer.” He held out his hand for the remote.
“Not yet,” she said and sat down beside him. “Have you noticed anything missing from the house?”
“You think maybe I was robbed? I got me a Confederate Colt—” He stopped. “Oh yeah. The police have it now.” Scratching his chin, he added, “Nope. Nothing’s missing.”
She picked up the newspaper where he had set it on the coffee table. The manila envelope was still there. Unfolding the newspaper, she pointed out the sketch of John Doe. “Have you ever seen this man?”
Edwin glanced at him. “No.”
“Look carefully. His name is Rocky B. He’s the man in the morgue who had your driver’s license and bank slip on him when he was found dead.”
Now she had the old guy’s attention. He pushed his glasses up further on his nose and squinted at the picture. “He doesn’t look familiar.”
She got her cell phone out and pulled up the photograph from the funeral home. “How about this picture? Are you sure you have never seen him?”
Edwin shook his head. “I don’t think so, but my memory isn’t as good as it used to be. Did they get my stuff from him?”
“I assume that’s what’s in this envelope.” Deena picked it up and handed it to him, anxious to see if it contained any other clues.
He pulled out the contents. The first paper was a receipt from the police department he had signed acknowledging the items were his. Then there was his driver’s license. He turned it around in his hand, studying both sides. “That looks like mine all right.” He looked at the bank receipt and promptly set it back down.
Deena saw that it was from the First Bank of Maycroft, the same bank she and most of the town entrusted with their hard-earned money.
Edwin pushed himself off the sofa. “I’m going to get my wallet. I want to put this back in there.” He waved his ID.
As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Deena grabbed the bank receipt and checked the date. It was the past Thursday, the day before Rocky B. had been found dead at the café. Edwin had withdrawn three hundred dollars. Nothing unusual about that. But there was a handwritten note scribbled at the bottom. She squinted and tried to make it out, cursing herself for not carrying her reading glasses in her purse. Finally, she was able to focus enough to read Box 192 and the initials L. B.
Edwin came back in holding his wallet.
“Anything else missing?” Deena asked.
“Doesn’t appear to be. It has my cash, social security card, credit card, insurance cards. It’s all here.”
He sat back down.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to carry your social security card in your wallet. If someone were to get ahold of it, you could be a victim of identity theft.”
“Ah,” he groused. “I don’t have much to steal. Most of my money is in savings, guaranteed safe by the United States government.”
“Well, you must have some money in checking. This shows you got three hundred dollars out last week.”
“Three hundred? I never get more than seventy-five dollars at a time. That’s exactly what I have in my wallet right now.” He reached for the bank slip and studied it.
By now it was getting late, and Deena knew Gary would be wondering where she was. She noticed a cloud came over Edwin’s face and didn’t want him to worry. “I bet it just slipped your mind. Happens to me all the time.” She handed him the remote and his eyes brightened.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t forget that Kitty and her boyfriend are bringing your car back later, and I’m sure Ian will call.”
He nodded, fully engaged with the new puzzle on the show again.
“I’ll check on you later,” she said as she stood to leave.
To her surprise, Edwin hit the pause button. “Thanks for being a good neighbor, and if you see Christy Ann, tell her thanks for the casserole she left last night on the porch. I put it in the freezer.”
“I will.” As Deena headed for the door, she thought about Christy Ann. She was glad someone else was keeping their eye on the neighborhood.
Chapter 9
As long as she had to be there anyway, Deena figured she’d try to make quick work of it. After all, how long could it take to screw together a few boards for some prefab furniture?
She parked in front of the standalone building located just down from the bank. Inside were a mound of cartons, packing materials, and three of the least mechanical people she’d ever seen. This was going to be a nightmare.
“Where’s Liz?” she asked, thinking Scott’s wife was the reason she had to be there.
“She bugged out on us,” Scott said. “Claimed she had too much to do.”
Deena gave Gary the stink eye, and he shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m sure glad you showed up,” Vera said. “All of these instructions are written in French.”
“What?” She walked over to where Vera sat on the floor wearing Strawberry Shortcake overalls and a hot-pink T-shirt. Who knew you could get those in extra large. Deena took the instruction manual out of Vera’s hand and flipped the pages to the English version. “Here.”
“See, you’re a genius.” She turned to Scott, who was already sweating, and said, “We need parts G and H and the screws marked double P.”
Scott was fifteen years Gary’s junior, but they shared an interest in sports, especially golf. Scott looked even younger than his age, with a slim lanky body like one of those wagging balloon men in front of the car dealership. He had a full head of dark hair and wore hipster glasses, making him look the part of a 1950s accountant. And he was an accountant. Actually, a CPA like Gary. As far as she knew, the two men only ever argued about sports, never business.
Stay Sharpe Box Set Page 35