by Wendy Byrne
Decisions, Decisions.
I huffed, still trying to decide how forthcoming I should be. "I went up to the tower to see if I could spot the Qs, and I leaned a little too far out and tumbled out the window."
His gaze went wide. "Those window ledges are wide for exactly that reason, unless you were sitting on it." He shook his head. "Did somebody push you?" He did that intense scrutiny thing again, like I was under hot lights being interrogated. "Before you answer, I talked to Sheriff Crowder, and he shared with me that you have a proclivity for getting involved in investigations, especially if you think the prime suspect is innocent."
Between his stare and my discombobulated status, I figured I wasn't going to weasel out of this. Right now, I didn't have enough brain cells firing to come up with some kind of plausible explanation, so I did what I had to do and fessed up.
* * *
"Are you sure you're alright?" Viola patted my hand and forced me to look at her as I got into the car to drive home. I'd already chugged down a couple of painkillers, but every inch of my body still felt battered and broken. That didn't mean I didn't want to get out of this town as quickly as possible, especially after the stern warning from Chaz.
"Who do you think pushed you?" Dolly asked. "It had to be one of our suspects, don't you think?" There was a murmur of agreement, which didn't last long—it never did.
"We're just scratching the surface of our suspect list. It could be someone we don't know about yet," Ramona said. "We haven't explored her Inez connection. Do you think it was a man or woman who pushed you?"
I thought through the question with a hint of skepticism. It all happened so fast. It was difficult to say one way or another. "To be honest, I don't know for sure someone pushed me. I could have lost my balance as I overextended out the window. If it was a push, it was lighter rather than an I'm-going-to-make-sure-I-hurt-you-bad kind of shove, which makes me think it might be a woman. Except if it was a woman, that eliminates Cindy from the list because I saw her right before I fell, and she was on the other side of the park talking to some man."
"Did you see any other suspects before it happened?"
"Cindy was in a group of people. She was arguing with some other women who might have been the twins, and then a guy joined them along with Trixie, and she took off. She disappeared in the maze, and I went to Clark Tower to see if I could get a better look. I wasn't paying enough attention, or I would have been prepared."
"You're so lucky it wasn't more serious."
"It wasn't that far of a drop to the ground. I landed at an awkward angle." And in the rock-solid dirt. I needed to stop thinking about it, so I diverted their attention to their favorite subject—their own snooping. "You ladies still haven't told me what you learned."
"I found out that Delbert Cummings might have been out of town when Lori was killed. Until we can verify, he's still on the list," Viola said.
"And Peter Daniels had back-to-back appointments. Considering it's the middle of tax season, I believe that alibi," Dolly said.
"That doesn't mean he wasn't responsible. Accountants are slippery types, so who knows what or where he was. He could have shot her in between appointments without too much trouble or worry about getting caught." Leave it to Alice to put her own negative spin on things. "But he'd still have to figure out how to dispose of the body."
I hated to think anyone would be that coldhearted, especially somebody we were going to have to investigate further, but I had to admit it was a possibility.
"How did he get her into that truck? We need to know the time of death to figure that out," Viola said.
"Did the detective give you any idea as to TOD?" Alice asked, using her newly acquired cop-speak language for time of death.
"I didn't ask, and he didn't volunteer." Besides, I was too busy trying not to lose my lunch as visions of the bullet hole and shocked expression on her face were the stuff of nightmares at the time. "He did mention that rigor hadn't set in, so that usually means less than twelve hours." Sometimes Murder, She Wrote came in handy. "If we knew what time the truck arrived and where it had been prior to coming to the museum, it would be really helpful."
"We're back to square one in terms of possible suspects, unless somebody got anything on Greta and Rhonda Wells or we can somehow sneak a peek at the truck manifest." Ramona poked at my shoulder while I drove. "You sure those other two women you saw were the twins?"
I mulled the idea over in my head. "They could be since they were about the same size and around the right age. They looked similar, not identical. I might be grasping at straws only because they were hanging with Cindy Begay."
"That theater picture wasn't the best. It's always better if there's some kind of mugshot, but they're not the most flattering," Alice commented.
"If they had mug shots, they'd probably be considered suspects by the detective, too," Dolly added.
"Except for his sister. I'm sure that wouldn't happen," Ramona said. "She could very well have a record, and he still wouldn't consider her a suspect, I bet."
"Are we including Gus in that suspect mix?" Viola asked, her voice tentative.
I chewed my lip. "I didn't get that killer vibe from him. He seemed really sweet, upset, and worried." I blew out a breath. "I guess it's plausible, but he's not my first choice. He might be the obvious one, but there are other suspects that are higher on my list."
"I imagine Chaz will get in touch with you if he brings Gus in."
That's exactly what I was afraid of. I'd learned from my experience with Nate that law enforcement types can be very intimidating. Chaz seemed to up that notch about a thousand percent.
"I wonder if he'll ever mention anything about his sister having an argument with the victim or that she got the lead in the play because of Lori's death." I didn't intend to verbalize the thoughts that were inside my head, but they came out anyway. "Then again, I don't think he'll divulge anything about the investigation, let alone something about his sister."
"Maybe she's the crazy sister that everyone rolls their eyes about. I have a sister Bertha who's like that. When she comes to visit, I'm ready to strangle her about halfway through—which is about an hour and a half into the visit," Alice said. "She talks incessantly about her pet raccoons and how she's potty training them. I don't think they really exist, which is even scarier than actually having pet raccoons."
"Remember when Bertha went streaking during the high school football game and got arrested?" Ramona asked.
"Were you all in high school together?" I asked.
"Yeah, but that wasn't in high school. This happened about a year ago. She'd just come back from some kind of nudist vacation getaway and lost her darn mind."
"Bertha wearing nothing but a pair of Nikes and running the track around the football field is not a picture I want to remember," Dolly said. "I get nauseous every time I pass by the high school now."
I choked on the thought. "Glad I missed that."
"You have no idea," Viola whispered. "Nate had a hard time keeping from laughing when he arrested her."
My cell phone rang, and I pressed the button as Gabe's name showed up. Suddenly I missed Inez. I missed normalcy. And, above all, I kind of missed Gabe. Maybe that was a breakthrough of sorts. This time I had the sense to not use speakerphone.
"Hey there."
"Are you ladies on your way back?"
"Yep, we're close to home. What are you up to?"
"Thinking about how I want to show you the place. I'm dying to know what you think."
"Believe me, no one is more anxious to get home than me. You wouldn't believe what happened in Winterset," I said as the ladies murmured in the background.
"Gram filled me in for the most part, but I'm anxious to hear the whole story from your perspective."
"You still have the key to my place? Or did you hide it under the flowerpot or something equally Inez-ian?"
"I've still got it. Drop off the Qs, and I'll meet you there."
"Sou
nds like a plan. Bring some pizza and call me done." My pulse jumped, and only some of it had to do with seeing my apartment as I swiped off the phone. I liked Gabe. And I was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. I wished he'd tell me a little bit more about what drove him. A simple request on my part, but one that was like pulling teeth with Gabe.
"Sounds like you have a hot date tonight," Alice said. "We were hoping to see your place, but we might interrupt something interesting."
"I'm tired. I'll probably fall asleep early." I might as well nip their curiosity in the proverbial bud. That usually didn't work, but there's always a first time.
The foursome started laughing hysterically. "Do you think we were born yesterday, girl?" Dolly asked.
"You're planning on getting frisky with Gabe," Alice said and continued without waiting for me to answer. "Hey we were young once too. One time Artie and I…"
I stuck my finger in my ear and hummed. "I do not want to hear this. I might have to pull over and throw up. Some things do not need to be said, ladies." As much as I said it, they didn't seem to get the hint. But I'd keep trying for as long as I could.
Viola patted my hand. "You're so easy to rattle, Izzy." She smiled as I pulled in front of her house.
"Can I drop you off, ladies?"
"We're good. You and Gabe have a good time tonight, and we'll get together in the morning to discuss what we're going to do next."
"Sounds good."
"Why don't you come by for some coffee and sweet treats in the morning?" Viola asked.
I nodded my acquiescence. I had no pride. And I was so easy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"What do you think?" Gabe asked as I surveyed my new place. For the first time I could remember, words didn't easily spring from my lips.
The minute I'd seen this loft space, filled with ginormous windows, voluminous ceilings, concrete flooring, and exposed brickwork, I knew it would be the perfect place for me to settle. The abundance of sunlight would bring life to my artistic endeavors, and the separation from Viola and the Qs, as well as my father, would give me time to think. And Gabe had made the whole thing spot-on amazing—from the polished concrete flooring to the industrial vibe of the kitchen with its concrete counters and sink complemented by honey-colored cabinets, a goose-necked faucet, and wooden trusses accented by metal braces.
"It's spectacular." I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.
"I wish all my clients were this appreciative." He kissed me back long and slow. "Except for Lila Grant. She's seventy-something and a little too frisky with her hands for my liking."
I chuckled. Despite all the resistance between the two of us at first, I think we were coming to terms with each other's idiosyncrasies. And although I knew he was a good guy, I couldn't help but wonder if he had any skeletons hanging in that closet that I didn't know about.
"You had my things brought over. That is so sweet." He'd set up the bed I'd ordered and brought in the couch I'd purchased from a secondhand shop and had re-covered. He'd set it by a brick, non-working fireplace where he'd placed an old timber log as a mantle. I spotted my art supplies and canvases huddled into one corner.
"I wasn't sure where you wanted everything, so I can move things around while we unpack the rest of your boxes."
"You're a peach, you know that?"
His expression soured. "Peaches are kind of fuzzy and can get soft and squishy if you leave them out too long."
"I've been hanging out with your grandmother too much and picked up a little of the lingo." I drew in a breath. "How about the straight-up fact that I'm glad you stumbled into my life. And I'm forever grateful for everything you've done for me, even when you accused me of being a murderer."
"I have that endearing quality about me. I bark first and ask questions later." His eyes went half-lidded as he smiled. "You going to tell me how you got that scrape on your face?"
"Being clumsy, as usual. Let's dig into that pizza you brought over and talk about how I might rent out the retail space below." I needed to divert him from probing any further, although I knew my effort was futile. Besides, I was hungry as all get out. I snagged a piece of pizza and grabbed some water for both of us.
"I'll put some feelers out and see if anyone might be interested."
"That would be good but not a hardware store or something equally boring. Maybe a boutique or an eclectic shop of some kind would be good. Or one that sells cupcakes or pastries or, better yet, chocolate. Hmm…my mouth is watering just thinking about it."
He laughed. "I'll see what I can drum up. But for now, why don't you tell me more about your run-in with the dead body?" He slipped his arm over my shoulder. I figured Chaz talking to Nate meant Gabe had the details as well. Such is life in a small town.
"I'm like a corpse magnet. I need to smudge myself."
"Smudge? What's that?"
"It's a Native American thing where you light sage and shoo away the evil spirits."
He laughed, those adorable dimples on full display. "That sounds a little crazy."
When he brought out the dimples, I was a sucker. He could pretty much say or do anything, and I'd be alright with it. "I know it's weird, but I'm for anything that keeps people from dying around me. This whole dead body thing is getting kind of old, don't you think?"
"At least you're not a prime suspect this time," he added as he snagged his own piece of pizza.
"True. And the detective in charge doesn't think that I'm hiding anything." At least, not yet.
"I heard Chaz has the case."
I knew he knew but had to play the victim at least a little. I shook my head. "How is it that everyone knows everyone in this state? It doesn't seem possible logistically. Iowa isn't the size of Rhode Island. I don't understand all these relationships tying people together." I didn't want to throw shade at his state, but truth was truth.
"People born here tend to stay in Iowa. A lot of us went to the state colleges and connected up there."
I had my opening, and I was jumping on it. "But not you and Nate. Neither one of you lived here initially after college. While I know Nate went right into the FBI, how about you? Can I assume you practiced law somewhere that wasn't Iowa?" The guy had secrets, and I wanted to know more.
He smirked. "Fishing again?"
"Do you blame a gal? I know zilch about you."
"We've been down this road before." He sighed. "I went to school here and got married after college. We moved to California, divorced, and I moved back here."
Finally, we were getting somewhere. "Why did you divorce?"
"The same reason most people do."
"Actually, there are many reasons people divorce. Joseph was a serial cheater. Is that your story too?"
"Subtle, you're not." He shook his head. "Let's just say she didn't believe in monogamy."
Hmmm…so she cheated on him. That explained his lack of trust. "Why were you in California? Did you go to law school there?" I was bound and determined to take full advantage of this sliver of an opportunity.
"Yep, and then it became convenient to stay after I passed the bar."
"But why did you stop practicing? You couldn't have practiced very long."
"It wasn't for me, and I decided on another track."
"Remodeling?"
"That, among other things."
"Lately I've been thinking, since you were so mum about your past, you must be a secret agent for the CIA or something, especially the way you flit in and out of town." I laughed but couldn't help but notice he didn't. Say what?
"How about we get you unpacked so we can sit down and finish up that pizza."
His remark couldn't make things any clearer—case closed. For now, at least.
I started making the bed while Gabe schlepped the last of my things out of the trunk of my car. "Despite the fact you haven't been here that long, you've accumulated a lot of stuff." He set the last box next to the ones on the floor and gave me a weak smile. "This place is definitely you. How d
oes your dad feel about you moving here instead of in with him?"
"I needed some space. I'm pretty sure we both did. And while I love your grandmother and the Qs, they can be a bit overwhelming at times. Besides, I needed to pull up my big girl panties and see what's next."
He flopped down on the bed and pulled me toward him. Suddenly I wasn't quite so exhausted or inquisitive. "What was that you said about panties?" He brushed his lips with mine and things started to get interesting.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
"Yoo-hoo. It's us." The sound of their feet echoed through the open space. My bedroom didn't have any walls, and yeah, well…this could be bad. "We forgot to give you our housewarming gift."
At the sound of their collective voices, I was pretty sure both Gabe and I trampolined out of the bed. "You didn't lock the door," Gabe grumbled.
"Hey you were the last one in," I whispered back.
"Ah….by the look on your face, my guess is we interrupted something." Alice held out her hand. "Pay up, ladies."
"Seriously?" I muttered and gave Gabe the evil eye that I hoped let him know exactly why I'd moved into my own place. Apparently, that still didn't spare me from humiliation.
I closed my eyes and drew in a breath. I loved these women, but they would be the death of me if they kept this dropping by unannounced and betting on my sex life. Besides, I'd told them we'd meet up in the morning. Unless they uncovered a new clue, which, based on their excited expressions, they might have.
"Did you ladies drive?" I hated to think they had but knew they wouldn't have walked several blocks at night.
"Henry was our Uber driver."
"I didn't know they had Uber in Inez." And I didn't think they had Uber drivers in their nineties. I'd seen Henry drive, and no way would I get into a car with him. Like I'd walk fifty miles in the middle of a tornado before I'd get into a car with Henry.
"He's not technically an Uber driver, but he put one of those rooftop signs on his car. I think he might have spelled it wrong," Ramona offered. "It's a way for him to earn extra cash. Social Security doesn't cut it, especially when he likes to hit the gambling boats."