Something Old, Something Dead

by Misty Simon

  “Oh, so he’s your man, now?”

  “Oh, yeah, he is totally my man. But don’t you dare say anything to him. As far as he’s concerned, we’re merely having some fun.”

  From the looks I’d witnessed him giving her, I highly doubted he thought she was just a quick way to get off, but I let her have her delusions. It would be fun to watch her finally realize she meant something to someone else. And it would serve her right after the way she’d mercilessly teased me about Ben all the time.

  “Sure, whatever you say. Now, I have a question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Please, don’t say that. We’ve already had one shooting. We don’t need another.”

  “Hey, I meant to tell you about that.” She paused, and I waited impatiently.

  “Yes?”

  “Oh, sorry. Jared was text messaging me. I hope no one has access to read these things. He would have burned up the wires.”

  “Saints preserve me.” Yes, I actually said that out loud, and got an earful.

  “You know, I listened for a long time about everything from the cute way Ben’s hair stood straight up from his head to the way his butt curves perfectly into your hands. I listened to you rhapsodize about his eyes, his hands, and other things more south.”

  “Oh, good word.” I said it before I could stop myself and then belatedly acted offended. “I have never said anything about his south of the border.”

  “I didn’t say that.” She chuckled her evil chuckle. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I meant his legs, you hussy.”

  Which reminded me. “Hey, before we get farther and farther down this road better not traveled, have you heard anything about why all the women in the town seem to be after Ben right now?”

  “Of course.”

  I waited for her to expand. “Yes?” I drew the word out.

  “Of course, I’ve heard about it. You told me, didn’t you?”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I meant have you heard anything about why it’s happening?”

  “Actually, I heard some of the women talking yesterday when I was dying some blue hair and left the room to mix the chemicals. They must have thought I couldn’t hear them, but I stood hidden behind the door and listened to the whole conversation.”

  “And this conversation went a little like how?” She was dragging this out and killing me at the same time. If she’d found out what had happened, then there was no reason for me to help with Horace anymore, because I wouldn’t need Martha’s information. I saw the light at the end of my tunnel.

  And then my train crashed.

  “I heard them, but I couldn’t figure out what they were talking about. They kept muttering Ben’s name and saying he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but he could do a better job. And then one of them hollered for me because her scalp was itching, so I had to pretend as if I’d just come out of the mixing room.”

  “Do a better job? I don’t get that. Were they talking about me or his real job?”

  “I don’t know. They didn’t talk about anything else significant when I was in there. Other than cooing over the newest grandbaby pictures and asking me why I wasn’t having any children yet, of course.”

  “Huh. Martha’s supposed to be working on finding out info, but she’s got nada so far. I’m so torn about the whole thing, I don’t know what to do. But I hate to push her, because she has a lot going on right now too.” Why was life always so complicated? I used to go to work and come home, when I lived with my dad. That was all there was to my day. A part of me loved how much more had been added to my life lately, namely good friends and a great man. But the other part of me sometimes yearned for those easy, carefree days, where all I had to worry about was whether to make beef stroganoff or chicken parmesan for my dad’s dinner.

  “Yeah, I can’t believe Horace was yelling at her in her own home earlier today. I heard you stood up tough, though.”

  I don’t know why I was surprised Bella already knew about the whole thing. This was a small town and I’ve mentioned more than once how fast that damn grapevine moved.

  “Yeah, I did all right. But it didn’t solve anything. All I found out was that Horace had some business cards done and they cost a small fortune, but he was happy to spend the money.”

  “How much money are we talking?”

  “Maybe thousands of dollars. I caught him whistling his way out of the bank with a wad of cash, and that was his explanation.”

  “Well, that’s bullshit if I’ve ever heard it. Did you see one of these business cards? They better do tricks and having fluorescent lights to cost that much.”

  I’d never thought of getting business cards since everyone already knew where I was, so I had no idea what they cost. But I needed to find out. “I need to get my hands on one of those cards, don’t I?”

  “I’d say yes. And there are only about three people within a ten-mile radius who do that kind of stuff, so I’d also find out who made them and try to see the invoice.”

  Looked like I was about to do a little something called stealthy stealing. Not my favorite pastime, but I’d have to get over it if I wanted to know where that money had gone, and why Horace was ordering business cards when he said he was out of commission for a little while.

  I got off the phone after a little more chitchat, then figured I had about two hours to get some work done on this before I needed to go into the shop. Business was still hopping, but since it was early in the new year, I figured not too many people would have a conniption fit if I opened late.

  I hopped into my car and was waiting for the heater to warm up when I got a call on my cell phone. I could hear the darn thing screaming away, but I couldn’t find it.

  I dumped my purse on the front seat, then rummaged through all the TicTacs, tissues, gloves, receipts, and party napkins until I finally found it in a side pocket. Breathless by the time I opened it, I listened as Bella snickered after I answered.

  “Ben there?”

  “Ha-ha-ha. What’s up? How have you been since I talked to you five minutes ago?”

  “Don’t get smart with me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. What do you want?”

  “I forgot to tell you about the trumpet guy’s murder. You distracted me with talk of Jared.”

  I left the car idling in park. I wasn’t sure what kind of information she was going to impart, but I didn’t think I wanted to be driving when I heard it. “What?”

  “Well, this doesn’t go any further, because the police are going to try to keep it under wraps.”

  “Yeah, right, like that’s going to happen in this town.”

  “I’m serious, Ivy. Jared told me I was only allowed to tell you since that woman detective asked him to get the information to you. You have to promise not to breathe a word.”

  Now I felt like I was in some spy movie. Did we have a code word I needed to memorize and a cyanide pill I should keep tucked in my cheek?

  “I promise,” I said, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

  “Okay, but you absolutely cannot tell anyone. I don’t even know if you’re allowed to tell Ben.”

  “If I want Ben to help me, I might have to tell Ben, but I promise it won’t go any further.”

  “Nathaniel didn’t die of the gunshot wound. After the bullet hit him, he had a heart attack that sent him to his grave. But they still want whoever shot him, so that’s why you have to keep this completely under your hat.”

  Oh, boy.

  Chapter Eighteen

  So I had a secret and very few, if any, facts. I was pretty good at keeping secrets, so I wasn’t worried about that. I was, however, worried about the very few facts.

  On my next stop before going to the shoppe, I pushed through the front door of the renovated old house on Main Street and was hit in the face with the smell of paper. I love the smell normally found in libraries and had expected the same thing here, but this was overpowering. Pulp was not a scent I wanted stic
king in my hair. Pulp wasn’t a smell I wanted sticking anywhere, for that matter, but here I was. At least it was open this time.

  I’d get in to the Martha’s Herald upstairs offices, get my ad placed, and get out. I hadn’t come up with anything yet to make a sleazoid killer come to me, but I was hoping the clerk could help with the actual wording.

  The receptionist desk was not occupied. It being noon on a Friday, I figured maybe she was at lunch. Then again, since I had never been here before, I had no idea how these things normally worked.

  I rang the little brass bell on the desk, then turned to study the walls. Framed newspapers hung at all levels. Some were only the headlines by themselves, like “Giant Potato Rolls Down Main Street.” Um, okay. But interspersed were a few color photos of people who I assumed were either famous, infamous, or just worked here.

  Ben figured prominently in the pictures and over three fourths of those had him standing with women. I tried hard to remember most of the photos were taken before he even knew me. He’d worked there for five years. I was sure he had been photographed with many people.

  But several of the pictures showed him with women his age or younger, and in one memorable one, a woman who could have been twice his age. All of them were kissing Ben on the cheek. I couldn’t see where their hands were, although obviously they were behind him, and he had a surprised expression on his face.

  A horrid thought intruded on my mind. Were they all goosing him? Pinching his butt? Why on earth would a newspaper, even if it was the Martha’s Herald, put pictures like this on its walls?

  I’d have to ask Ben, once I found him.

  I rang the bell again, hoping someone might actually hear me and save me from seeing what other pictures were on the walls. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I thought I had waited long enough (two minutes was more than patient, I tell you), I went searching.

  A long narrow hall led back from behind the reception desk. Several doorways opened off the hallway, but no one was in the first three rooms. I heard a door farther down the hall close as I peeked in the fourth, which held a man on the phone who waved me away without even looking up.

  Two more doors stood before the end of the hall. I tried the first one and found a woman talking on the phone about some car for sale. I’d come back here once I found Ben. I still needed to come up with something to lure a killer. Although he or she, in my experience, wasn’t necessarily a killer at this point, since I now knew it was natural causes that killed the guy, precipitated (good word!) by the gunshot.

  And speaking of the gunshot, I still needed to find Ben. So I tried the last door and found it closed but unlocked.

  I’m sad to say I almost wish I hadn’t opened the door at all, since it felt suspiciously like Pandora’s Box.

  ****

  “I don’t want to hear your lame excuses!” I yelled at Ben as he came running out of his office. Stomping out the front door, I left the smell of pulp and the taste of betrayal behind me. I was done. There was nothing on this earth that would convince me that what I had seen was anything but what I thought was going on. Nothing!

  “Ivy, please,” Ben pleaded with my back. He grabbed my arm, and I let loose.

  “Get your filthy hands off of me.” I moderated my voice. “I will not do this out in the middle of the whole town. I have enough strikes against me without having to fend off questions about whether or not you’re single now and how can someone go about snatching you up.”

  “I don’t want to be snatched up, and that wasn’t what you thought you saw in there. Please, give me a chance to explain.” He ran his fingers through his short spiky hair. It was one of the first gestures that had gotten to me a few months ago. I loved the feel of his hair, and the way it always smelled like Head and Shoulders.

  I snapped myself out of that real quick. I didn’t want to think about anything pleasant regarding the philandering man in front of me. Not what I thought was going on? Puh-lease, as Bella always said.

  “You can go on back into your office and finish whatever it was you were doing. I can’t believe you would even follow me out here. You’re slime.” Yes, I actually said that, and felt like slime myself. This was the man I loved. But the image of him covered by a half-dressed blonde woman wouldn’t get out of my head. Add that on top of everything else that seemed to be going on with him, and I couldn’t handle it anymore.

  “I wasn’t doing anything.”

  “And I told you I’m not listening to this.” Woo-hoo to me for standing up for myself without a single moment’s hesitation. But my heart was breaking on the inside, and bile rose in my throat, threatening to spill out all over his shoes.

  He held onto my arm and dragged me around the corner of the building into an alleyway. I tugged against him. This was one of the few times where my size had no discernable (not even going to celebrate that word) effect on the person messing with me.

  I shook him off as soon as he backed me into the brick wall. “Okay, so you’ve proved you can manhandle me and at least have the sensitivity to not do this out in the open, but what on earth do you hope to accomplish?” I crossed my arms over my chest to ward off grabbing him by the ears and head-butting him. “I saw her, whoever she is, all over you. And I didn’t see you doing anything to stop it. Trust, my ass! Deny it, Ben. I dare you.”

  He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Your bullshit time is running out,” I said, pointedly looking at my wrist, where normally I would have worn a watch. I hadn’t put it on this morning in my rush to get out of the house after spending all morning with Ben making love. The bastard!

  “It’s not bullshit. And why are you so quick to believe I would cheat on you? And with Susie, for that matter?”

  “Susie? Oh, well, that’s just too cute, now, isn’t it? And I have not been quick to believe anything I haven’t seen with my own eyes.” I thought about bringing up all the other little things that were happening lately. All the things I’d tried to dismiss, like the waitress and the way he looked at her, or the fact that he had been in deep conversation with a woman who had thought at one time to be his wife eventually.

  “Yes, Susie, and she’s worked here for three years without ever trying to even talk to me other than giving me my messages. Then, today, she came in half dressed and bent on taking me in my chair.”

  “Riiiiight. That’s exactly what I saw. Her trying to take you, and you not doing a damned thing to get her off. Or, oh, excuse me, were you trying to get her off and I just couldn’t see your hand down her pants?” Now, I admit that was low, even for me, and I had no internal cheer at all for standing up for myself. I was playing dirty—no reason to cheer there. And now that we were out of the office, and the initial shock was wearing off, I wondered if I’d really seen what I thought I saw.

  My head hurt.

  Ben reached out a hand to me but then seemed to think better of it. He probably made the right decision if he wanted to keep that hand. “I don’t know what’s going on or why she decided to come in today and attack me, but I swear it was an attack. I wasn’t trying to get her off at all.”

  “Ah-ha!” I knew I was right, though it made me sick to my stomach.

  “Not ah-ha. I wasn’t trying to remove her from me because she had just come in and thrown herself on me when you opened the door. I was so shocked I sat there wide-eyed with my mouth open for a half second. I’m sorry I took that half a second and didn’t knock her to the ground immediately.” He shook his head, and his hand did land on my arm this time.

  I let him keep it. “Who is she? Why would she have come on so strong to you if she knew you had a girlfriend and weren’t available?”

  “She’s been the receptionist at the Martha’s Herald for years, and I have no idea what she thought she was going to accomplish. I even have a picture of you on my desk, and I talk about you all the time. It’s not like she isn’t aware I’m in love with you.” Apparently there were a couple of somethings he could sa
y that would make me forgive him.

  “You have a picture of me on your desk?”

  His ears turned a becoming shade of pink, and he leaned into me. He left his eyes open the entire time his lips were pressed to mine. My legs went a little weak before I went completely cross-eyed and leaned back.

  “Of course I have a picture of you on my desk. I want to be able to look at you all the time, even when I’m not with you.” He ran a finger over the outside of my ear and tucked my hair back. “I miss you when I’m not with you.”

  This attitude was a sharp departure from the way he was usually pretty egotistical, but I liked it.

  “Don’t get used to me being all mushy like this outside the bedroom.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and then had the audacity (great, I could enjoy it this time) to wink.

  I smacked him in the arm. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You have a reputation to uphold.”

  “Actually, it seems I have one to live down.” He hugged me to him, and I breathed in his scent. “I really am sorry, babe. I was so shocked when she threw herself at me I had no idea what to do. But I promise if anything ever happens like that again, I will absolutely boot the woman’s ass to the curb.”

  “You’d better. In fact, an even more likeable idea would be for it to never happen again. Maybe I should nail a picture of me to your head and your crotch.”

  He laughed, even though I wasn’t entirely sure I was kidding. “How about if I get you a—” but he stopped talking before he finished the sentence. A man stood at the end of the alley with a big frown marring the nice lines of his face. His hands were anchored to his hips and he harrumphed before turning away and stalking off back around the building.

  “Who was that?” I asked, holding onto Ben’s arm and fighting the tingle wanting to work its way down my spine.

  “My boss.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I couldn’t decide whether to run and hide, or to run and hide, when Ben told me his boss had just caught us necking in the alley. Ben was supposed to be working! This day was getting worse and worse, and now I didn’t know if Ben would get in trouble. I still hadn’t told him about the trumpeter, or found out what he was going to do about the bordello receptionist. Maybe it was something in the drinking water.