Broom and Gloom: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 9

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Broom and Gloom: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 9 Page 14

by Christy Barritt


  I sighed and leaned back. “This is what I get for being out of the loop, I suppose.”

  “No woman deserves to be treated like this, in or out of the loop, no matter what she’s done or what’s happened to her to lead her to this point. Men like Dr. Stone disgust me.”

  I decided to nibble on the roll some more, even though my appetite was leaving me. “Thank you.”

  I could read between the lines, though. Most likely, I’d be wearing my scarlet letter for the rest of the week.

  Silence fell for a moment, but I could tell that Evie was still thinking.

  Evie slathered some butter on another roll. “So, where did you go after the good doctor made a pass at you?”

  “I had to call my future stepbrother. I spent the rest of the day investigating a new case.”

  “A new case? While you’re here, off work, in Oklahoma? Tell me more.”

  Since she offered, I did. I told her everything about Georgia and Skye and Dud. I even added my new doubts that maybe Lenny had something to do with this or even Jono.

  “Sounds intriguing.”

  I nodded. “The problem is that I don’t have much time. My plane leaves on Saturday, and I’m not planning on coming back out here again after that.”

  “That makes things more complicated.”

  “This case seems bigger than what can be done in the interim.“

  “Do you think the cases are connected?” She took a bite of her roll.

  “I can’t see how.”

  Evie stared at me. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Two crimes surrounding the same group of people within a one-month time period? It would be worth investigating to see if there are any other links.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. I should see if there are any connections.”

  “You really should look into getting your doctorate, Gabby. I think you could go really far.”

  “You really think so?”

  She nodded. “I do. It’s a competitive job market out there. Anything you can do to give yourself an edge.”

  “You’re the second person who’s told me that.”

  “Then it’s a sign.”

  As our food came, I nodded. “You know, I will think about it.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Evie and I walked back to the hotel. I had to admit that it had been surprisingly fun talking with her. I didn’t know if we could ever be best buddies or anything, but being with someone who was like-minded was refreshing—even if her IQ was chutes and ladders above mine.

  We said goodbye in the lobby, and she headed up to the sixth floor while I headed to my first-floor room. Just as I pulled out my key card, I heard a footfall behind me. Before I could turn and see who was coming, someone grabbed my arm and pressed into me.

  I twirled around, ready to fight, when Dr. Stone came into view.

  “Get your hands off me,” I growled. I jerked away from him.

  “Where have you been?” he growled.

  “Don’t you remember? You left me on my own and made me fend for myself when it came to getting a ride back from your place. I’m sorry I was such an inconvenience.” I lowered my voice when I saw some conferees go past. They sent glances our way. Great. Evie was right. Dr. Stone and I were going to be fuel in the gossip lovers’ wildfire.

  “Keep your voice down,” Dr. Stone warned.

  “I’ll speak as loud as I want to speak. And what kind of foolishness are you engaging in? Did you cut the electricity at your place when you went to bed or something? Do you get a kick out of shaking women up?”

  “What are you talking about?” His eyebrows scrunched together, and he looked truly confused.

  “I tried to turn the lights on in the hallway. There was no power, which only added to the little creep show going on in your place.”

  “In the hallway? The bulb burned out, Sherlock, and I haven’t had the chance to change it.”

  His breath was hot on my face, which reminded me that he was still standing close. His spearmint scent turned my stomach.

  I crossed my arms, speechless. Finally, I blurted, “You would say that.” I couldn’t own up to the fact that I’d had an airhead moment, thinking in terms of paranoid malice instead of logic. “You’re still a jerk.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about ‘sorry’? And how about loosening your grip on me before I report you to security?”

  He glanced at his hand and finally let go of me. “I don’t have time for this. You had your chance to make something of yourself.”

  Fury flared in me. “Why, you little—”

  Before I could finish, he slapped something in my hands. “Glad you’re okay. The last thing I need is someone disappearing with their last known location being at my house.”

  He turned and walked away.

  I was fuming mad. Like, madder-than-I’d-been-in-a-long-time mad.

  The nerve of some people.

  As soon as Dr. Stone was out of sight, I glanced down at my hands. He’d given me pictures of shoe prints in the dirt. What in the world?

  I shook my head and let myself into my room. I checked the locks several times before sinking into my bed. As soon as my back hit the pillows I’d arranged behind me, my muscles thanked me.

  I rubbed my eyes a moment and then tried to focus on the photographs Dr. Stone had handed me. Was this a classroom assignment I’d missed? What did he want me to do with them?

  I glanced down at the bottom of one of the photos and saw a label with an address on it.

  That’s when it hit me.

  These were the crime scene photos from Skye Flores’s house.

  ***

  I had no idea why someone as heartless as Levi Stone would find it in himself to help me after everything that had happened between us, but I didn’t argue. I’d asked him if his friend might let me see the evidence, and he’d obviously checked for me.

  I put the pictures down beside me for a moment, my mind racing.

  What had Levi said before he stormed away? Something about how he didn’t want his house to be the last known location for a missing girl. The statement sparked something in me. I wondered exactly where Georgia’s last known location was.

  I pulled out my notepad. From what I’d gathered, she disappeared nearly two weeks ago to the day. That was the last time her apartment manager had seen her. My guess would be that rent was due on the fifteenth. I checked online, and an information section of the website confirmed my theory.

  Poppy at Hair Kingdom also said that Georgia had left about two weeks ago.

  Trace had said he hadn’t seen her in a month, which took me to the fifteenth again.

  What had happened leading up to that date to make Georgia lose it?

  Skye, on the other hand, had disappeared a month ago. Had Georgia taken her, tried to resume her life while taking care of Skye, only to finally give up and run? Poppy had said that in the two weeks before Georgia disappeared, she’d been acting strangely. Maybe that was because she was trying to figure out what to do with Skye.

  For all I knew, maybe I’d been the last one to see her. After all, someone had lured me into that bull pasture. My bets, at the moment, were on Georgia.

  I sighed and leaned back into my pillows, not realizing just how tired I was.

  Just as my mind began to replay facts and events, my phone buzzed. I looked down and saw I had a familiar number on my screen. Riley.

  I remembered what Evie had told me, that sometimes moving on didn’t mean leaving everything behind. Sometimes it just meant trusting in the person you’d become and being ready to face the future, whatever it held.

  I smiled as the words replayed in my mind before answering. “Hey, Riley.”

  “Gabby. I wondered if you were going to pick up.”

  Just hearing his voice did something that should be considered illegal to my heart. I forced myself to speak and not just stand there in a stupor. “I just got back to my hotel room a few minutes ago.”
<
br />   “How’s the conference? Sierra told me where you went. It sounds like a great opportunity.”

  “So far, so good.” I leaned back into the bed, realizing just how good it was to hear his voice. His voice felt like home, a realization that was bittersweet.

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been thinking about you,” Riley continued, his voice sobering. “I’m sorry I missed you when I came down.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. There was so much I wanted to say. Yet I kept most of my thoughts to myself, fearing I’d hamper his recovery. I cared about him too much to do that. His health was the most important thing right now.

  I cleared my throat, feeling unusually jittery. “What brought you down to Norfolk?”

  “You, of course.”

  “Me?” I couldn’t contain the surprise in my voice.

  “I just—” He started to talk again, but sighed instead. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. You’ve been on my mind a lot lately.”

  “I’m doing okay.”

  He paused for a moment. “That’s great. You deserve good things in your life, Gabby.”

  He was the one good thing I’d wanted in my life, and that hadn’t worked out very well, now had it? It’s just another setback, Gabby. Setbacks are made for launching forward. Two steps forward, one step back. Like a rock in a slingshot being pulled back before being released and soaring into the air.

  I may or may not have been reading self-help books lately. I was trying to learn the art of positive thinking.

  But moving on doesn’t always mean leaving everything in your past behind.

  I was starting to like Evie’s advice more than those twelve-step plans I’d read.

  “Listen, maybe we can talk sometime when you get back,” Riley said. “There are some things I’d really like to share with you.”

  Talk? He wanted to talk? About what? It didn’t matter. Of course I’d talk to Riley. He was my weakness, my kryptonite. “That sounds great.”

  Relief was evident in the softening of his voice. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll give you a call early next week, then. Sound good? Maybe I can come down and we can have dinner.”

  “It’s a date. I mean, not a date. But a get-together. A hangout. It’s on my calendar.” I scolded myself for sounding like a bumbling fool.

  He paused and mercifully didn’t seem to notice my fumble. “My therapist says I’m progressing quickly, Gabby. I know it seems slow. It seems slow for me. But I feel like I’m finally seeing some light at the end of the tunnel.”

  I felt like there was something he wanted to tell me, a deeper meaning behind his words. But I didn’t ask, nor would I allow myself to speculate or hope. He’d tell me in his own time.

  “I’m glad things are looking up for you,” I told him. “We’ll talk more soon, okay?”

  “Good night, Gabby.”

  “Good night, Riley.”

  As I leaned back in bed, my phone slid out of my hands and onto the floor. I told myself I wouldn’t speculate, but a seed of hope felt like it had been planted in my heart. It was dangerous territory I was toying with entering, and I had to stop myself.

  I sighed, too tired to think. I needed to retrieve my phone and get some sleep.

  When I glanced down at the floor, my phone was nowhere in sight. It must have bounced under the bed, out of sight. With a sigh, I climbed off the comfy mattress and crouched on the carpet. I lifted the covers to retrieve my cell, when I spotted something.

  Daisy petals.

  I remembered what Colorado Caitlyn had said. Crazy Georgia had left flower petals wherever she went. This couldn’t be a coincidence. It just couldn’t be.

  CHAPTER 19

  How had someone gotten into my room? My mind raced with the possibilities. The windows appeared to be the kind that didn’t open. There was an adjoining door.

  Out of curiosity, I jiggled the handle. It was definitely locked.

  Strange.

  I was supposed to meet Trace and Wentworth in a few minutes. But first I went to the front desk. The same young man who’d been working there when I checked in smiled at me. Jeffrey, his name tag told me, was twenty-something with an overeager smile and a certain smarminess about him.

  “How can I help you?”

  “I’m curious . . . is the room next to mine available? I’m in 1026, and I’m interested in the room with the adjoining door.”

  He stared at me a moment.

  I needed something more.

  “I’m a little paranoid sometimes, and I’m interested in the other room just to give myself peace of mind.”

  He shrugged but typed something into the computer anyway. “There’s no one in the room. It’s been empty all week.”

  Before I had to explain any more, Trace and Wentworth walked in. I had the information I needed, but it didn’t make sense. If the room was empty, how had someone gotten in? Had they somehow come in through my door? I had both of my key cards, so I knew no one had swiped one. Strange.

  “Hey, sis.” Trace tugged at my hair. “I like the new look.”

  “Thank you. And thanks for coming. I know my phone call was a little last minute, but there are a couple of things that I wanted to ask you about in person.”

  “No problem. We were just finishing up rehearsal and on our way to relax a little.”

  “How’s the new drummer working out?”

  Trace’s face went from jolly to somber. “He’s okay. I mean, he’s actually really good. But he’s not Dud, you know?”

  I nodded.

  Trace glanced at Wentworth. “We were thinking about trying this place that has some live music. What do you think? I know it’s not the quietest venue, but I’m hoping we can still talk.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  Before we reached the door, two women rushed over from the bar. “Are you Trace Ryan?” one starry-eyed one asked.

  Trace smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he hit an “on” switch and went into performance mode. “I am.”

  “I’m your biggest fan!” the woman squealed.

  He talked to her a minute, and I stepped back to listen. I had to admit—if this was the life of a celebrity, I was quite content to live my own life. Could Trace ever let down his guard? And, if he did, would it be the one minute the media was waiting and could slam him for being “real”?

  After several minutes of schmoozing, I looped my arm through Trace’s. “We really do need to run, Trace.”

  He said goodbye as I pulled him away.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “I was flattered at first. Now I feel exhausted. But if there’s one thing you don’t want to do, it’s tick off your fans. So I just keep smiling.”

  “Oh, come on, Trace. You know you love it,” Wentworth chided with a grin.

  “Now, Wentworth here. He does love it.”

  Did he love it enough to somehow conspire with Georgia? Had Georgia convinced him to help her out in her scheme for some kind of benefit? He wouldn’t be the first man who’d fallen under the spell of a beautiful woman.

  Twenty minutes later we reached the restaurant. The band blared in the background, which would make talking difficult. Trace requested a corner table, and the waitress found one for us. I didn’t know if it had to do with Trace’s reputation and or just plain luck. Either way, I was happy to be away from the loud music for a minute.

  I waited until after Trace and Wentworth had ordered burgers and fries before talking.

  “I found daisy petals under my bed,” I started, getting right to the point.

  “Daisy petals?” Trace asked.

  “Colorado Caitlyn said that Georgia left a flower trail wherever she went.”

  Realization dawned on his face. “I guess that’s true. I mean, she never said she liked them—not to me, at least—but you’re right. Petals did show up in the aftermath of every ‘event.’ But how did they g
et in your hotel room?”

  I shrugged, uneasy at all the conclusions I drew. “That’s what I want to know.”

  He swung his head back and forth. “Man, Gabby. I sure don’t know. But I sure didn’t mean to pull you into any of the craziness.”

  “What if Georgia thinks the two of you are dating?” Wentworth said.

  Trace and I glanced at each other, but said nothing.

  “What?” He raised his hands, palms up, looking almost offended that we didn’t immediately agree. “It makes sense. She probably doesn’t know you’re about to be stepsiblings. You’re both single and attractive. It’s a natural assumption that you could be together.”

  “So you’re thinking I’m her next target?” I mumbled.

  “I think it’s a rather good theory.” Wentworth stood. “And, with that said and everyone feeling totally awkward now, I see an old friend over there. I’m going to say hi.”

  As he sauntered off, I turned to Trace, grateful that I had a moment alone with him. “I have another question. I was talking to Jono tonight, and he seems to think you’re exaggerating about Georgia’s stalker-like tendencies.”

  Trace sighed and readjusted his hat. “Jono has a way of putting a positive spin on anything. Plus, he’s desperate not to do anything that might ruin the launch of this album. He’s a manager but also a PR genius.”

  “He said you thought someone else was stalking you a few months ago.”

  He blinked. “Wow, he was really running his mouth, wasn’t he?” Trace leaned back. “Look, there was another girl who freaked me out for a while. She wasn’t as bad as Georgia, but she did follow me around everywhere. Eventually, she left me alone. She wasn’t scary like Georgia is scary, if you know what I mean.”

  I nodded. “I see. Can I ask another question?”

  “Please do. I want you to get everything out in the open, because I don’t have anything to hide.”

  Despite his willingness, I hesitated a moment before responding. “One person I talked to thought it was strange that you didn’t do more to find Skye when she disappeared. Why didn’t you plead to your fans or go online to inquire about her disappearance?”

 

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