“No, not that I know of. But Sadie was always possessive when it came to me. If you want to know the truth, she was a mixed up mess. There were problems in our marriage long before the divorce. She was always looking for something more. You know what I mean? I wasn’t romantic enough. I didn’t woo her every minute of the day. I was too reliable. Too down-to-earth. Too married. She wanted someone exciting. Unpredictable. Maybe even dangerous. Her idea of love was very different from mine. We probably should have just stayed friends and never got married, but we were young and I could never say no to Sadie.”
“So you think Sadie was jealous even though she was dating someone too?” Shelby asked, trying to understand this double-minded woman. She was a conundrum. She chose to marry Pete and then spent every day trying to find someone to replace him. When she finally did, she still expected Pete to grovel at her feet in abject adoration. In this imaginary world she lived in he wasn’t allowed to love someone new.
Pete glanced at his watch and back at them. “I don’t know. Maybe. I really have to go. I already lost one woman. I can’t afford to lose another one by missing this business dinner she set up for me.”
“Thanks, Pete. We’ll talk soon.” Blake followed him to the door and watched him start up the hill before closing it. He turned toward Shelby, shaking his head. “Wow. That is one insecure man. He’s so confident when it comes to building things with his hands and so…”
“…lost when it comes to pleasing a woman,” Shelby finished.
He raised his brows. “Some women are hard to please.”
“Some men stink at reading women.”
“But not me, right?” He tugged her hands out of her pockets and pulled her in close, his breath caressing her cheek. “I can read you like a murder mystery.”
“Oh really?”
“Yep. Like the back of my hand. Like a magazine. Like…”
“…the back of a cereal box? The fruity kind?”
He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. “Do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?”
“Ooo, quoting from Hamlet now. Very sexy. You are definitely no fool.” She cupped his face and smiled into the eyes of the man she loved with every ounce of her being. “You don’t have to read me, babe. I’ll speak the words out loud and clear. You are the only man I’ve ever loved, the only man I ever want to love. You are…”
“…the love of my life.”
“Ditto.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sunday morning Shelby shut off the alarm and sat up. Blake was already in the shower. She could hear him singing some old rock song at the top of his lungs. Lucky for Alice, her room was at the far end of the hallway and out of earshot.
She moved to the window and pulled the curtains aside in hope of gauging the weather for the day. Bright sunshine greeted her and brought an instant smile to her lips. She would certainly need to dress warmly, as every tree and bush was gilded in a layer of sparkling snow. Branches hung heavy and low with the weight of beauty, glittering in the early morning sun.
Blake threw open the bathroom door releasing a cloud thick as London fog. He rubbed at his hair with a towel, still singing, “Oh, no, you can’t do that, once you started wearing those shoes,” then he dropped the towel and started playing an air guitar, making all the appropriate sounds for his imaginary part in the Eagle’s band.
She passed him on her way to the bathroom, picked up the towel and snapped his bare legs to get his attention.
“Ouch!”
“Save the rock music for weekdays, babe. It’s Sunday. Let’s get some church up in here!”
He reached out and snagged the end of the towel, tugging her slowly toward him. “You are going to pay dearly for that,” he said, his words husky with promise.
She grinned and let go of the towel causing him to stumble back a step. “Put it on my account. We’ve only got an hour to get ready. Consider this my I.O.U.,” she said, and blew him a kiss before closing the bathroom door.
By the time they went downstairs, Tucker had already come by to pick up Alice. The two of them planned to drive to Ashland after church and spend the day together. Alice had arranged a sitter for her dad, against his wishes. Gwen, the man-sitter, had graduated high school with Alice. The poor woman now taught second graders during the week and thought watching one old man for a day would be a breeze, but she obviously didn’t know Oliver Booth. He was more like a Lake Superior squall.
Shelby wished Gwen good luck as she and Blake hurried out the front door. They were running late as usual. She barely had time to admire the exquisite beauty of the frosty countryside before they were parked outside Superior Christian Church on Copper Lane.
“Isn’t that Pete’s truck?” Blake asked, shutting off the ignition.
Shelby lifted her sunglasses and turned where he pointed. “Sure looks like it.”
“I don’t recall him attending church here before.”
“I don’t think he did,” she said, remembering Pete had told her he was supposed to meet his girlfriend at church today. She assumed the woman in question lived elsewhere since he’d met her online. Things were about to get very interesting.
Blake took her hand as they went inside. The congregation was already in the middle of the first hymn when they slipped into a pew beside the town’s librarian. Jerri gave them a nod and held out her hymnal so they could see the page number.
Blake opened their hymnal and joined the singing. Shelby looked around for Pete and his mystery lady, scanning the backs of heads to no avail. She spotted Alice and Tucker three rows ahead sitting between Mrs. Davies and Dr. Morgan. Alice would probably rather have her wisdom teeth removed without painkiller than engage either of them in conversation, but God worked in mysterious ways.
The pastor stepped behind the podium and read from the familiar thirteenth chapter of the book of I Corinthians. “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I…”
Shelby was always quite engaged and alert during Pastor Donaldson’s sermons. He had a rich, baritone voice and a way with words that kept her attention. She was sure he would be amazing on a theatre stage as well.
As he read from the love chapter, she was reminded of her wedding day. The description of what love was: patient, kind, protective; and what love wasn’t: boastful, envious, self-seeking; always managed to prick her heart. Today was no exception. She squeezed Blake’s hand and slanted him a smile as the pastor continued.
“Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where…”
Her attention suddenly fluttered left when she caught sight of a shaved head half a dozen rows ahead. The man sat closest to the outside wall and a pattern of stained glass reflected across his pale scalp. An inch of faded tattoo peeked out the neck of his white dress shirt. He had one arm draped protectively around the bare shoulders of a thin woman with platinum blonde hair. The woman turned her head slightly towards him. Long dangling earrings caught the light and sent sparkles along the pew in front of her.
Shelby’s gasp echoed in the high-ceilinged sanctuary and heads turned toward her. She felt her cheeks flush with heat at the uncomfortable attention, but her gaze remained riveted to Pete and his not so mysterious girlfriend.
Blake leaned close and whispered softly so the sound wouldn’t carry. “What is going on? This is your favorite chapter of the Bible.”
She opened her purse and pulled out a pen and notepad. Scratching the words out as quickly as possible, she turned it toward him. Pete is here with his girlfriend. She surreptitiously motioned toward the couple in question.
Her husband glanced in the general direction and then shrugged, a frown between his eyes. “Okay,” he mouthed but she could tell he was not getting it.
She scribbled more words and turned it toward him. He looked down. Read it. Looked up again. His gaze nar
rowed. Shelby saw his jaw clench tight. He was definitely getting it now.
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” Pastor Donaldson paused for a thoughtful moment after coming to the end of the chapter. He had everyone’s complete attention.
Except for Blake and Shelby. They slipped out the doors into the crisp frosty morning, unable to sit still for the rest of the sermon. Shelby barely had time to grab her coat from the back of the pew when Blake tugged her hand and they made their escape. She buttoned up the red wool now and shoved her hands in the pockets.
“Holy Scuttlebutt!” Blake said, pacing down the sidewalk and back. “I didn’t see this coming.”
“Now I understand why Sadie took off like that when she stopped by to talk to Pete. The woman is half his age!”
“That’s the least of it. She’s…”
“The devil incarnate?” Shelby offered with the lift of one brow.
“…completely out of his league. There’s definitely something off here. Why would she date an old retired guy when she could have anyone she wants?”
“True love? After all, she is the epitome of kindness, trust, hope, and faith.”
Blake stopped and ran a hand over his chin, choosing to ignore her sarcasm. “Maybe he has more money than we realize. He could be one of those quirky rich people who lives like a pauper and hordes thousand dollar bills in his mattress or something.”
“Oh, so you’re admitting she’s a money-grubbing, tramp with less of a moral compass than a wannabe Hollywood starlet on Oscar night.”
He hid a grin. “I admit she’s got her problems, but this situation also puts Pete’s whole story in question.”
“What? What are you talking about? Pete is a sweet man and seems very honest to me. He told us he was dating. It wasn’t a secret.”
“True, but he didn’t say who he was dating. It’s obvious he was afraid to reveal her name. What does that tell you?”
“That he’s ashamed to be dating such a piece of…” She broke off as the church door opened silently above them.
Jerri Roper made her way down the steps, boot heels clicking lightly against concrete. She was thin and nearly as tall as Blake without boots so she met him eye to eye now. Short, finger-combed silver hair set off bright blue eyes in an almost perfectly unlined face. Middle age gave her features strength rather than softness. She always reminded Shelby of Jaime Lee Curtis in Freaky Friday, tight control with just a touch of rock and roll lurking behind her eyes.
“I take it you two are out here discussing Cynthia’s new sugar daddy,” she said, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves that matched her long coat. Her lips thinned. “Sorry. I’ve acquired a bad habit of reading over people’s shoulders at the library.”
“Did you already know she was seeing Pete Dugan?”
“No. But I do hope you two can pin a murder rap on that woman. You would be doing the whole town a favor.”
“You actually think she’s capable of murder?” Blake asked, skepticism tingeing his words. Shelby didn’t like how he kept defending the woman.
Jerri pulled a keychain from her coat pocket and pushed the start button on the fob. A Chevy across the parking lot revved to life. “We’re all capable of murder given the right circumstances. You should know that, Detective.”
“But everyone doesn’t act on their feelings, regardless of circumstances.”
“True. Those people rely on someone bigger than themselves to right the wrongs and win the battles.” She glanced up at the church bell tower, her eyes mere slits against the sun. “But not everyone finds the strength or patience to wait. Not everyone remains steadfast in faith, hope, and love.”
Shelby wanted to continue the conversation but Blake put a hand on her arm. The organist was already playing. The service was almost over and everyone would be pouring out of the doors momentarily. They watched Jerri walk away and climb into her car.
Soon the double doors opened wide and the pastor stood ready to greet everyone as they slipped past him. He kept glancing their way, evident curiosity in his eyes. His blonde goatee made him look like a teenager growing a beard for the first time, but Shelby knew he had a servant’s heart for his flock and was wise beyond his years. She tugged on Blake’s arm. “We better go. Pastor Donaldson looks ready to corner us and ask if we need counseling.”
Blake shook his head. “Not before we speak with Pete and Cynthia.”
The weather made meeting and greeting shorter than usual, as people moved outside and hurried toward their cars. Shelby shivered despite the fact she’d worn slacks and a sweater rather than a dress. But the chilling morning frost hadn’t squashed Cynthia’s need to flaunt her physical attributes. She came through the doors, her coat unbuttoned, modeling a shimmery red mid-thigh sheath to optimum effect. With matching three-inch heels that made her legs look a mile and a half long and platinum blonde hair styled like Marilyn Monroe, she had every man’s attention.
Including Blake’s.
Shelby tried not to let jealousy take hold, but she felt her spine stiffen and the muscles in her face turn unnaturally brittle so that if she smiled any wider they might snap. She reached for Blake’s hand and squeezed it just to remind him of her presence. He looked down, gave her a quirky half smile, and squeezed back.
After being introduced to the pastor and shaking his hand, Pete took Cynthia’s arm and gallantly assisted her down the steps as though she were a fragile work of art. At the bottom of the steps they stopped again when Mrs. Davies managed to insert herself into their path even though they were quite obviously trying to avoid her.
“Why, it’s Pete Dugan,” she said, her loud nasal voice reaching far and wide. “You aren’t still in jail so I assume the police haven’t been able to prove you murdered your wife.” She leaned closer as though telling a secret, but her whisper carried nearly as far. “I doubt you have anything to worry about though. I’m sure a lot of people had reason to kill her.”
“What a lovely thought, Jan,” Cynthia quipped, her tone as hard and dry as uncooked rice. “Why don’t you make a list of suspects for the police? I’m sure they’d love to hear from an expert like you. After all, you raised a murderer.”
“Why I…” Mrs. Davies faltered, angry color rising up her neck and into her cheeks. She abruptly turned on her heel, pushing her way through people until she was on the sidewalk. She glanced back once – her face puckered and angry – and then marched off as though she were late for the rapture.
“Good to see you here, Pete,” Blake said before the couple had time to move past them. His smile was warm and contagious and Shelby was almost sucked in, but she knew he was a consummate professional when he was working and right now he was working the case. She sent up a silent prayer that God would forgive him for hijacking his day.
Pete shook Blake’s hand before slipping his arm back around Cynthia. “It was a beautiful service. That young preacher fella has a way with words. Almost poetic.”
“He certainly does, but I think the poetic part was actually God’s words.” His smile belied any hint of sarcasm. When he glanced toward Cynthia, his brows knit with interest. “I was unaware that you two knew each other.”
“Blake,” she chided. “You and I have been special friends for... like forever. Don’t beat around the bush. You know you can ask me anything.”
Shelby cringed at the woman’s intimate portrayal of their relationship even though it was a fabrication and used specifically to annoy her. She wished now that they hadn’t stepped out of the service early. Sometimes she needed a refresher course on what was truly important. According to Blake, she needed to choose her battles wisely and she’d already won his love hands down. She drew in a calming breath and relaxed, feeling the warmth and pressure of his hand in hers.
Pete intervened. “Cynthia and I met online. I didn’t even know she went to this church until the other day.” He pulled her closer, and leaned his head against hers. He spoke dire
ctly to Shelby as though needing to justify his choices. “This is the woman I told you about. The one who’s turned me into a new man.”
“We were wondering what persuasive powers Pete’s new girlfriend possessed to get him to sell his Harley, cut off his ponytail, and shave his beard. Now I guess we know,” she said, glancing at Cynthia with wide-eyed innocence.
Pete loosened his tie a notch. “She’s definitely persuasive. I signed a deal last night to…”
“Honey, let’s not talk business here in the church parking lot.” Cynthia batted her eyes up at him and tugged on his sleeve, her voice going all breathy. “We really need to get going. We have a dinner date. I’m cooking.”
“Congratulations,” Shelby murmured as they moved past. “You finally learned how to use a stove.”
“Babe,” Blake shook his head, a definite twinkle in his eyes, “you’re so bad.”
<<>>
“What do you think Pete signed that Cynthia didn’t want us to know about?” Shelby leaned against the headrest, her face turned toward Blake as he pulled out of the parking lot. She saw Alice and Tucker climb into his pickup and wave as they drove past.
Blake stopped at the corner and waited for an old man to cross in front of him. A giant white husky pulled the gentlemen to the curb and then sat down to be petted before moving on. “I have no idea, but it would probably be prudent to find out. I still don’t believe Pete killed his wife, but Cynthia’s involvement in his life could certainly lend reasonable doubt and put the police back on his tail.”
“Shouldn’t it put the police on her tail? After all, she’s the one manipulating an innocent member of AARP.” She hated the fact he wouldn’t even consider the idea that Cynthia had something to do with Sadie’s death. Jerri Roper, on the other hand, seemed quite open to the possibility that Cynthia made a plausible suspect. Were men really so easily distracted by blatant in-your-face sex appeal that they would turn a blind eye and deaf ear to the many faults of a woman like Cynthia?
Much Ado About Murder (Double Barrel Mysteries) Page 10