I slipped a shaky hand in my pocket and rewarded them each with a treat. They deserved it.
My eyes recovered a little as the car crept along the alley. Its lights swept along the fence and I was grateful for the solid boards that protected me from exposure. A tire splashed through a pothole, and the lights wavered for a second before resuming their slow progression.
As the car passed my hiding place I watched it through the sliver of space between the boards.
I held my breath and watched the logo of the Pine Ridge Sheriff Department move slowly past.
I swallowed a scream, and forced myself to remain motionless in the dark shadow of the fence.
Had someone seen me despite my precautions? Had they called the sheriff? Was there another car moving into position in front of the house?
And what would happen if they found me here?
chapter 12
I didn’t wait around to find out.
As soon as the car reached the end of the alley and turned the corner I wiggled through a hole in the fence, dragging Daisy and Buddha after me.
A dog barked a couple houses over, and another answered. Maybe the deputy was used to the barking; it seemed common in this neighborhood.
I hustled the dogs forward. If the patrol car came back down the alley there was nowhere to hide.
I stumbled in the dark and went down on one knee.
Fear drove me back to my feet in record time. I reached out my right hand and found a chain-link fence lining the alley. Using the fence as a guide I trotted a few yards.
From somewhere behind me I heard a door open. My heart leaped and I nearly stumbled again, but I caught myself with a hand in the mesh of the chain link.
The soft thump of a heavy load echoed down the alley, followed by the clatter of plastic on plastic.
Somebody closing a trash can.
Just some random neighbor dumping their garbage.
I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried on. The patrol car could return at any second; I wasn’t safe yet.
The two blocks back to my car were two of the longest blocks I had ever walked. I had to balance the risk of being seen on the road with the risk of walking too near houses where I might be spotted.
When we finally were in sight of the Beetle my heartbeat began to slow.
I loaded the dogs in the car and slid behind the wheel. My hands were shaking with the adrenaline letdown, and I had to brace my arm against the steering wheel to get the key in the ignition.
Mom was waiting up when I got home.
It didn’t matter that it was my house. It didn’t matter that I was thirty-something, or that I had lived alone in San Francisco and Portland. It didn’t matter that I had owned my own company and held my own in the shark tank that was high tech.
In that moment I was fifteen again, trying to sneak in after curfew. And getting caught.
She sat in the overstuffed chair, carefully avoiding my “bed.” Dressed in an elegant pair of silk pajamas and a matching robe, she had her legs tucked under her and a book in her hand. A pair of red-framed reading glasses perched on the end of her nose, and she looked up at me over their rims, one eyebrow arched in disapproval.
“I thought you went to walk the dogs,” she said accusingly.
“I did.”
I unclipped the leashes and hung them by the door. The dogs followed me into the kitchen, anxious for their green treats. I didn’t disappoint them.
I heard my mother get out of her chair. Her bare feet made almost no sound as she walked to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Walking the dogs should involve walking, Georgiana, not driving.”
“Sometimes we go to different neighborhoods. Just to get a little variety,” I lied.
I put the treats in the cupboard. The dogs tried sad doggy eyes for a minute, then wandered off to their beds, acknowledging defeat on the extra-treats front.
“Variety, Georgiana? They’re dogs! They eat the same food every day for years. Why would they need variety?”
She was right, though I wasn’t about to admit it. My excuse had sounded pretty lame, even to me.
“I need the variety, Mom. I see the same stretch of road every day. Sometimes several times a day, in fact.”
Mom gave a very unladylike snort that clearly expressed her disbelief, but she didn’t speak. Instead she simply stood in the kitchen doorway and waited. Just like she did when I was fifteen.
It was a Mom power I should have been able to resist. But somehow, even in her pajamas and bare feet, she had the ability to intimidate me. In my own house.
Then I remembered the one thing that diminished her power: She had a housekeeper! Super-Mom wasn’t quite so super after all. Maybe I could get away with a more convincing lie.
“Well,” I said, putting on my best you-caught-me face, “I was thinking about going to Tiny’s for a beer after we had our walk. But by the time we finished I was tired and I just wanted to come home.”
She shook her head. “I guess I should be thankful for small favors,” she said. “At least you didn’t go hang out at a tavern alone.”
I clamped my lower lip between my teeth to keep from smiling. Give her something concrete to disapprove of and she immediately forgot about her other questions. I should have been annoyed at the attitude that a grown woman couldn’t go to a local hangout like Tiny’s without an escort, but I was too busy being relieved she’d taken my explanation at face value.
“You said you were going to bed,” I reminded her.
“I was. But I came in for a cup of tea after my shower and I found your note. You know how it is, Georgiana. I can’t sleep when you’re out.” She shrugged. “So I waited up.”
I nodded. She’d always waited up. I didn’t know why I thought this time would be any different. “I understand, Mom. But I’m a grown-up now. You need to relax.” I grinned at her, trying to relieve the somber moment. “I’m not your responsibility anymore.”
“You’ll always be my responsibility, Georgiana,” she said tartly. “You’re my daughter. And you always will be.”
Mom was back on her high horse as she turned and sailed out of the kitchen. A hint of fragrance stirred in her wake, and I finally recognized the scent that had pervaded my house in the last two days.
Joy.
It was Mom’s favorite perfume, and it left its mark everywhere. Just like my mother.
I stalled another couple minutes in the kitchen. I listened to Mom moving around in the living room. Then I heard footsteps in the hall and the snap of the bedroom door closing. She’d gone to bed.
I let out the breath I’d been holding.
I had to get Sheriff Mitchell to let her back in her own house.
This was never going to work.
chapter 13
On a normal Saturday morning I would have been in class in Portland. With my licensing exam coming up I should have been in class. But there was nothing normal about this Saturday morning.
Mom was up at the crack of dawn and in the bathroom. Again. In spite of her bath the night before she still needed what felt like several hours to get ready to face the day.
I dealt with it by rolling over—as much as I could on the narrow sofa—and pretending I was asleep. It wasn’t a great solution.
When she finally emerged and released the sweet-smelling cloud, I stayed put. I pulled a pillow over my head and managed to ignore Mom, Daisy, and Buddha for another half hour.
I considered it a moral victory.
On a normal Saturday my mother would be meeting clients for breakfast, getting ready to show prospective buyers a string of houses. The office at Whitlock Estates would be buzzing by mid-morning with Mom and Gregory zipping in and out.
Nothing was normal for Mom, either.
When I shambled into the kitchen after my shower, she was sitting at the table. Her Bluetooth headset was looped over one ear, and her smartphone was on the table next to her open laptop. She
flipped between files on the computer as she talked, occasionally reaching for a steaming mug of coffee.
I stared into the refrigerator. There was too much food in there, and I had to shove things aside to find a carton of yogurt for breakfast.
I carried the yogurt and a cup of coffee back into the living room, away from Mom’s rapid-fire instructions to her office staff. All the employees of Whitlock Estates were working from home, and Mom had turned my kitchen table into her command center.
With Gregory gone, I heard her say, it was vital the company appear to be going forward. It was only a matter of time before the metropolitan papers picked up on his death. The remaining agents had to look active and confident if they wanted to keep Whitlock Estates running.
What she didn’t say was that they had to keep the company running to preserve her investment. I had seen the prenuptial agreement, and I knew how much of her net worth was tied up in Whitlock Estates.
The thought left me with a knot in my stomach. We’d been through this before. When Dad died, she’d shouldered his debts and somehow managed to hang on to the house. I had been pouring everything I had into Samurai Security and hadn’t been able to help.
If Whitlock Estates went down because of Gregory’s death it would be the same thing all over again.
For one insane moment I had a vision of the two of us trying to live together to save money. I quickly decided the cost of therapy to recover from the trauma would outweigh any savings.
Whitlock Estates had to survive. The alternative was unthinkable.
The stream of instructions from the kitchen stopped. A few minutes later Mom marched through the living room and into the bedroom. When she emerged she was dressed in an impeccable trouser suit and a pair of stilettos.
I wondered just how many pairs of shoes the woman owned.
She slung her purse over her shoulder and dug out her car keys. “Houses to show,” she said. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
I heard the deep rumble of the Escalade’s engine as she started the car and drove away. I had the house to myself. At least for a little while.
I wandered back into the kitchen. Her laptop was closed, but it still rested on the kitchen table where she had been working.
I can resist anything but temptation, and this was a huge temptation.
Mom’s passwords weren’t very sophisticated. I was logged on with her user name within three minutes and cruising her files. I don’t know what I was looking for exactly. Just something to explain how Gregory and several cases of wine ended up under Mom’s house.
But an hour of exploring Mom’s files didn’t reveal anything more interesting than an unfortunate addiction to bad YouTube videos of too-cute animals and—not surprising—a lot of bookmarked online shoe stores.
My mother’s shoe addiction was worse than I thought.
My conscience nagged at me as I poured another cup of coffee and sat back down at the computer. I had no right to paw through Mom’s files. They were none of my business and I was invading her privacy and violating her trust.
So, of course I dug deeper. Since the initial barrier was so flimsy, maybe she had a hidden directory with files she wanted secure. None of my usual tricks turned up anything, and I was beginning to believe there wasn’t anything to find.
Mom needed a serious security checkup.
I wasn’t ready to give up yet. I searched the system files, logged off and back on, and ran several diagnostics.
All the while I listened for the sound of a car in the driveway.
There was something out of balance in the hard drive usage statistics. The capacity of the drive didn’t mesh with the space used and available. There were files taking up space somewhere, but I couldn’t find them.
I went back to the log-in. I was determined to solve the puzzle of Mom’s phantom files. It wasn’t about Gregory or his wine any longer. It was all about the challenge.
I was focused so completely on the computer I missed the sound of the car pulling into the driveway.
The knock on the front door startled me. I jumped, jostled the table, and knocked over my coffee cup. A dribble of cold coffee splashed across the keyboard.
I bit back a curse and grabbed a paper towel. I swiped at the keyboard and slammed it closed.
I was halfway to the door when it struck me that it couldn’t be Mom. She had her own key.
I opened the door and found Wade Montgomery grinning at me over a cardboard box of donuts.
“Your car was in the driveway,” he said as he came in. “So I stopped.”
Wade leaned over and kissed me. He tasted of sugar glaze. “Got coffee?” he called back over his shoulder.
It took a few seconds for his question to register.
“Sure.” I closed the door and followed him to the kitchen, where he was already pouring himself a cup.
“Uh, help yourself,” I said.
“I think I will,” he teased, turning to kiss me again.
I laughed and pulled away. “I meant the coffee.”
We set the box of donuts on the table and I sat back down next to the laptop. Unable to leave it alone, I flipped it open and went back to cleaning the keyboard.
Wade sat across from me and waited while I finished with the computer.
“Spilled some coffee,” I explained. “Just wanted to make sure I got it all cleaned up before it did any damage.”
I finished cleaning and checked the keyboard functions. No permanent damage. Reluctantly I logged out and closed the computer. I would have to finish checking the hard drive later.
We made small talk for a few minutes as we ate donuts and drank coffee.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in class this morning?” Wade asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I should be. It’s a review session before the licensing exam. But with everything that’s going on, I really didn’t want to be gone all morning. No telling what Mom would get up to if I wasn’t here.”
“Speaking of the inimitable Sandra, where is she?” Wade looked around as though he expected her to emerge from the woodwork any minute now. “Her car wasn’t out front.”
“She said she had some houses to show and didn’t know when she’d be back.”
Wade studied me for a minute. “How’s that going for you?”
He should have known better than to ask. “She’s been here two days, Wade, and she’s making me crazy. I let her have the bedroom since there’s only one, but I didn’t count on her taking over the bathroom, too. And she tried to rearrange the living room yesterday! I don’t know how long I can handle this.”
I shook my head. “I have got to get her back in her own house, or into the new one Gregory built, before I lose my mind.”
I glared at Wade, who was struggling to control a grin. “Just what is so funny?”
He tried to look innocent, to hide the smirk on his face, but it didn’t work. “Hey, Georgie, you’re the one who offered to let her stay here.” There was a barely concealed snicker in his voice.
“And what was I supposed to do? Make her move to a hotel in Portland? There isn’t anywhere around Pine Ridge that would be acceptable. And the sheriff made it clear she wasn’t supposed to leave town. So I really didn’t have a choice.” I shook my head again. “And I definitely didn’t have any other options that wouldn’t include the patented Neverall guilt trip.”
This time Wade did laugh in spite of my glare. “Now I wouldn’t know anything about that, would I, Georgie?”
My glare stayed put. “You were wrong. I said it then, and I’ll say it now.”
Wade’s laughter subsided. “I was seventeen! Of course I was wrong. But what was I supposed to do? And really, Georgie, complicity is a pretty big word for a teenaged girl to go slinging around!”
It was a familiar argument. We covered the same ground every few months, to the point it had become a running joke. Yes, he’d covered for his buddy who was cheating on Sue. And no, I still thought he was wrong.
“Well, you’re the one who was best buds with a total horndog.”
“Guilty as charged. Josh was a total horndog. But he was still my best friend.” He held up a hand in mock surrender. “I know. I know. And Sue was your best friend. I am never going to live this down, am I?”
“Never.” I smiled.
He sighed dramatically and closed the donut box. “I don’t know why I try.” He put his coffee cup on the counter. “But how about I give it another go tonight over beer and chicken fingers? About six thirty work for you?”
“Tiny’s?” I asked. It was a rhetorical question. In a town the size of Pine Ridge there wasn’t any place else.
Wade nodded and picked up the donut box. “I do have some work to do this morning,” he said.
I walked him to the door and gave him a quick kiss before promising to meet him at Tiny’s for dinner. He waved as he climbed into his sensible hybrid sedan, and I closed the door with a smile on my face.
I was getting used to Wade making me smile. It felt like he had moved from maybe-boyfriend to someone special. He hadn’t solved the problem of Sandra, or of Gregory’s murder, but he had managed to make me feel better.
I knew it wouldn’t last.
chapter 14
The only way to get Sandra Neverall out of my house was to figure out who murdered Gregory Whitlock.
Aside from the sheriff and my mother, that made me the person with the most at stake in this investigation. I couldn’t sit around waiting for something to happen; I had to go out and make it happen.
The dogs weren’t happy about being left at home, but our adventure the night before had convinced me Daisy and Buddha weren’t good choices for investigative pals. I made extravagant promises before I left and hoped they wouldn’t hold me to them.
There was one place I hadn’t been yet.
Gregory’s new house.
I drove out to the new development where Gregory had recently moved. Privately I thought the houses deserved the description of McMansions. They were too big for the sites, built to the limits of the lot lines and crowding against their neighbors. The backyards were tiny, hedged in by tall fences in an attempt to regain a few shreds of privacy from the too-close neighbors.
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