Killer Transaction (Cindy York Mysteries Book 1)

by Catherine Bruns

I stared at him, confused. "What makes sense?"

  Jacques hesitated. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you."

  I grabbed his arm. "Oh, for crying out loud. Now you have to tell me."

  His face was pained. "A police officer came to the agency this morning. He questioned everybody there, but Donna spent the most time with him. Alone in her office."

  I sucked in a breath. "Oh no. She told him I killed Tiffany, didn't she?"

  "Cin, it really doesn't matter what Donna says. She didn't see you pull the actual trigger. She made a very good point though."

  "What'd she say? And how do you know all of this?"

  Jacques laughed. "You forget, darling, that I am the world's greatest eavesdropper. What the eyes miss, the ears make up for. I could hear a pin drop a mile away."

  I forced myself to relax and sit back. "Okay, go on."

  "Well, you told the cop that the front door was open when you got there. Donna said Tiffany would never have left the door unlocked if she was there alone."

  "She knew I was coming. Or maybe she had a client stop by. They might have left the door unlocked when they left."

  "Well, where's the client then? There was nothing on the sign-in sheet to indicate anyone came by. Plus, you have a key. So why leave the door open for you?"

  I rubbed my forehead wearily. "My brain's starting to hurt. What's the point here?"

  Jacques crossed one leg over the other. "Donna seems to believe—and now the police as well—that whoever shot Tiffany had a key to the office."

  My blood ran cold. This was not good news for me to hear. "There's another reason for them to suspect me." My voice shook slightly. "I left a threatening message on her phone, plus I was the one to find her. Donna already hates my guts and basically accused me of the murder in front of the cops last night. Of course—"

  "No way! She did what?" Jacques breathed.

  My shoulders sagged. "Last night she told me I'd pay for this. I said I was sorry Tiffany was dead, and she said why, since I was the one who killed her."

  "Dang, this is so not looking good for you." Jacques stared at me, his face full of sympathy.

  "Great. Exactly what I needed to hear."

  "Hey, don't worry. Since they're questioning everyone in the office, it'll be days before they even try to arrest you."

  I punched my pillow in frustration while he waved his hands in front of him. "Perhaps that came out wrong," he said.

  "Did you talk to the police as well?"

  "They asked me a few questions about Tiffany. I told them what I knew."

  I leaned forward in anticipation. "Which was?"

  "She was selfish and dishonest. I told them I didn't believe she had any living relatives except for a half-sister somewhere but no idea how they'd go about finding her."

  "Interesting. Why is it you always know everything about everyone?" I asked.

  "People enjoy talking to me. I have a very honest-looking face."

  I tried to hold back a laugh. "Oh, please."

  "Well, the police must have thought so." Jacques stared down at the floor. "I didn't want to, but I had to tell them about Pete." There was a note of regret in his voice.

  "Pete Saxon, the newbie? What's he got to do with it?"

  Jacques nodded and hesitated before answering. "I overheard him threaten Tiffany yesterday."

  My jaw dropped. "Get out. What happened?"

  He sighed. "Well, the poor guy's a little green. Don't forget, he's only been with the agency a couple of months. Since he's totally new to the business, Tiffany offered to help him out. They were working as co-brokers on a house he'd found and agreed to a sixty-forty split."

  "With Tiffany getting the sixty, I'm sure."

  "Of course. But since she would show him the ropes, it didn't sound like such a bad deal for him. Well, the house pended sale quickly, inspections passed, and everything rolled along as smooth as can be. In fact, Tiffany went to the closing yesterday. She told Pete one agent was required to be on hand, so he shouldn't bother. He was grateful since his kids had fevers, and his wife didn't have any more sick time left."

  My stomach filled with dread. "Tiffany offered to help another agent? Sounds fishy to me. Wait a second. That's the closing she must have been at while I was busy entertaining weirdos at her open house."

  Jacques laughed. "You get all the good ones. Anyhow, when he asked Donna for his check yesterday, she didn't know anything about it. She said the house was Tiffany's listing. Pete hadn't bothered to look online since the listing pended. Originally, both their names were on the listing, but Tiffany removed his name weeks ago."

  "No way. What about the contract?"

  Jacques took his glasses off, polished them with a fresh handkerchief he produced from his pants pocket, and put them back on. "She informed Pete only one agent's name needed to be there, so he let Tiffany sign."

  My mouth dropped open. "Didn't he make a copy of the original listing agreement for his records? Who entered the information for the listing online?"

  "He said they both entered the information. That's how he knew his name was originally there, but it doesn't sound like he saved a paper copy."

  "I can't believe he'd be so trusting."

  Jacques shook his head. "Stupid is the word that comes to my mind. And yes, believe it. The guy was new and apparently didn't know about her reputation." Jacques shook his head. "For Tiffany, it was like taking candy from a baby. I should have kept an eye out for him. I knew what she was capable of."

  "It's not your fault. Donna's the one who should've kept an eye on things. She is the manager, for cripes' sake. Wait a second." I clutched Jacques' arm. "Did Donna mention this to the police too?"

  "Not that I'm aware of. I only overheard her talking about you, and when they came out of her office, I went ahead and told the cop about Pete screaming at Tiffany yesterday. He said she was evil, and he was going to get her for crossing him. I couldn't very well lie when Pete made such a threat right in front of me."

  Donna clearly had it in for me, so why would she bother trying to implicate someone else? I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around me. "I bet she didn't tell them about Pete's threat because she wants to see me arrested."

  "She doesn't hate you that much." He patted my hand.

  "Oh yes she does. You should've seen her after I found Tiffany's body. She'd like nothing better than for me to land behind bars."

  "What she'd like isn't important. Take a couple of days off and then come into the office like nothing happened. If you stay away too long, it'll look bad. Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?"

  "I think I'm going to stay in bed for the next month or two. And what's the point of coming into the office? No one will want to sign with me now. Donna's going to fire me."

  "No worries. I've got plans for you."

  "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

  "We'll get into that later. But you'd better make sure you don't miss the weekly office meeting on Friday. If you don't show, it's like an admission of guilt." Jacques glanced at his watch and stood. "I'm late picking up my clients. They're here in town for the day. We've got nine houses to view before our seven o'clock reservation for dinner."

  "I wish I could afford to take my clients out to dinner."

  "It's a tax write off, you know," Jacques said.

  "Yes, but it's nice if you have money up front to actually pay the bill. Clients are always a big help too."

  "You've got a closing coming up soon, don't you? Mr. Redneck, right?"

  I nodded. "The attorney's office called a little while ago. It's on Friday. I didn't expect it so soon. His parents must be loaning him the money. This is a good thing, since I may be unemployed soon."

  Jacques gave me a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. "Get some rest, and call me if you need anything."

  "Thanks. Perhaps a good criminal attorney?"

  "Stop talking like that. I do happen to know the best though. I sold him a house last—"

  A
t that moment, my door flew open. The twins leaped onto my bed, hugged me, and managed to drop cookie crumbs everywhere during the process. They were followed by Rusty, who sat on the edge of the bed, barking incessantly.

  "Are you okay, Mommy?" Stevie asked. "We got scared when Dad left last night. Seth started crying."

  Seth pushed him. "I did not!"

  "Okay, enough." I held each boy at arm's length. "I hit my head, but I'm fine now." I gestured toward Jacques. "Where are your manners?"

  "Hi, Uncle Jacques. Did you bring me anything?" Seth asked as Stevie leaped into Jacques' arms to give him a bear hug.

  "How are my two favorite rug rats?"

  Stevie peeked inside Jacques' shirt pocket, prompting a laugh from him.

  "Hang on, hang on. I was worried about your mom, so I forgot to stop for candy. Here you go." He reached into his wallet and produced a five dollar bill for each boy.

  "Wow, thanks." Stevie hugged him.

  I shook my head. "That's too much. You don't need to give them something every time you come by."

  "Don't listen to her, Uncle Jacques," Stevie said. "She hit her head and doesn't know what she's saying. Grandma said so."

  "Ten would be better," Seth chimed in. "Five won't buy anything good."

  I stared at my mouthy child in shock. "That's a rude thing to say."

  "Okay, okay. Thanks, Uncle Jacques." Seth grinned.

  "You're most welcome. Now where's that beautiful sister of yours?"

  Stevie let out a yawn. "Cheerleading practice."

  "Well, you be sure to give her my best. Okay, kiddos, I've got to run. There are some people waiting for me. Take good care of your mom, and try not to drive her crazy."

  Seth held the five-dollar bill above his head, trying to get the puppy to jump for it. "But she likes it when we drive her crazy."

  Jacques was laughing as he closed the door. "I'll call you later, dear. Bye, guys."

  Once he was gone, the boys turned their attention back to me.

  "Are you sure you're okay, Mommy?" Seth drew his eyebrows together and looked so much like his father at that moment.

  "Of course I'm fine, don't worry. The doctor wants me to rest today. That's all." The thought of leaving my precious boys for a life behind bars was too awful to even imagine. I pulled them both into my arms and fought the sudden impulse to weep.

  "Did you have a concussion like Jimmy Parker?" Stevie asked.

  I nodded. "Who's Jimmy Parker?"

  "He was in our class last year, remember?" Seth bounced on my bed. "He's the one who kept getting zeroes on all the math tests. He fell off his bike last week and hit his head. He got to stay out of school for two whole days."

  I laughed. "Wow. Lucky kid."

  "I know, right?" Stevie helped himself to another cookie and gave Rusty one before I could protest. "So when he came back to school, Mrs. Bailey asked what happened, and he told her he hit his head. Then she said to him, 'I hope you didn't knock any more of your brains out.'"

  My jaw dropped. "That's a terrible thing to say."

  Seth nodded, his mouth full. "That's what Jimmy's mom and dad said too. They called the principal and everything."

  "What happened to Mrs. Bailey?"

  "She's still teaching," Seth said. "They moved Jimmy to our class now. I heard Mrs. White tell the lunch lady that if they moved one more kid into our room she might jump off a bridge. Why'd she say that?"

  I thought this was a good time to change the subject. "Did you have fun with Grandma last night?"

  Stevie nodded. "Oh yeah. Grandma's always fun. We had ice cream, and she played Hangman with us."

  "Who won?"

  "Grandma," Seth replied. "She kept calling the hangman Cindy. Why did she call it by your name?"

  Granny strikes again. I smiled at the twins but said nothing.

  Seth stretched out on the pillow next to me. "Grandma said you should give us some kale for breakfast."

  "Yeah, I told her we never had it before, and she looked really scared, like the time she found my pet snake, remember?" Stevie munched on another cookie.

  I glanced up and winked at Greg, who stood in the doorway with a fresh cup of tea for me. "Too bad you still don't have that snake. You could have let it sleep with Grandma."

  Seth agreed. "He was a really nice snake."

  Greg placed my tea on the nightstand and folded his arms across his chest, grinning down at me.

  Seth observed his father. "Uh-oh. When you look at Mom like that, it means you want to kiss her."

  "What a great idea." Greg sat down on the edge of the bed and covered my mouth with his.

  "Ew, gross," Stevie squealed. The twins picked up the cookies and made a beeline for the door. The puppy followed closely at their heels, barking up a storm. Greg and I laughed.

  "You looked like you needed a break."

  I kissed my husband again. "Very perceptive of you, my dear."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Greg fixed dinner with Darcy's reluctant assistance. He came upstairs to get me when everything was ready and insisted I lean on his arm for support while we descended the staircase.

  "Really, I'm fine, honey." It was a surprise when he didn't actually try to carry me the entire way.

  Greg pulled my chair out and kissed the top of my head. "No, you're not. A concussion can be serious business." He glanced over at the twins. "I bet you guys can't guess what we're having for dinner?"

  "Gee, Dad, maybe spaghetti?" Seth asked.

  "How'd you know that?"

  Seth grabbed the Parmesan cheese out of the fridge. "Because it's the only thing you know how to make."

  Greg's smile vanished. "Well, hey, I know it's your favorite."

  Stevie looked up from his Nintendo DS. "Dad can cook. He makes hamburgers on the grill."

  "It's not the same, dork," Darcy said. "Anyone can cook on a grill."

  "Don't call your brother a dork," I admonished her.

  "Did you make meatballs?" Stevie asked.

  Greg shook his head. "No, but we've got some delicious meat sauce."

  Stevie threw the game on the table and kicked his chair. "If I can't have meatballs, I don't want any."

  Greg leaned down by Stevie's chair and whispered in his ear. "If you don't eat all of your dinner, that game system is going on eBay tomorrow."

  Stevie raised his arms in the air. "Yay, meat sauce."

  The meal progressed with its usual banter. Greg ate with the evening paper propped up between his plate and a glass of milk. Stevie shoveled his food in without looking at it. Seth would take a bite of garlic bread and then give the dog a piece when he thought I wasn't looking. Darcy pushed the meat sauce around her plate with a fork and concentrated more on the salad.

  I folded my arms on the table as I watched my daughter. "Are you a vegetarian now?"

  Darcy shrugged. "I might be. We eat too much red meat."

  "You seemed to enjoy the steak Daddy grilled for you the other day."

  She tossed her hair back defiantly. "I don't remember that."

  "Hey, Mom," Stevie mumbled with his mouth full of spaghetti. "Don't forget that tomorrow is Career Day at school."

  I exhaled sharply. "Oh, Stevie, this isn't a good time. Can't Daddy go?"

  "Dad went last year," Seth said. "The kids don't want to hear about brake pads again."

  Greg was an auto parts salesman. "Hey, we just got new ones. They have organic material in them now. I could bring some samples with me."

  Stevie ignored him. "Please, Mom? We've never had a real estate agent come in before."

  I sighed. "Well, my morning is free so far."

  Darcy wrinkled her nose. "I'm sure your afternoon will be too."

  I caught the note of sarcasm in her voice. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Darcy avoided my gaze. "Oh, nothing."

  "Maybe you should bring some business cards to the class." Seth reached for his glass of milk and accidentally knocked it on to the floor. Fortunately, it
was almost empty.

  I rose to grab some paper towels and spray. "Oh, right. I'm sure I'd sell a lot of houses that way." Hmm…wait a second. "You know, that's not a bad idea. I could fill little baggies with candy and attach cards to each one. They could take them home and show their parents."

  Greg winked at me. "Go get 'em, tiger."

  Gee, if Tiffany were here, she would have been so proud of my attempt to solicit to eight-year-olds.

  "Wow, that's so lame." Darcy got to her feet. "Can I go over to Heather's house?"

  "Is it to study or talk about boys?" Greg teased.

  Darcy gave him her best saccharin smile. "Oh, Daddy, you're precious. We have to study for a math test tomorrow."

  Greg was putty in her hands most of the time, and they both knew it. She kissed him on the cheek and started for the front door.

  "Be back in an hour to do the dishes," I called out. She tossed a frown over her shoulder in my direction, then quickly exited the room.

  "Mom?" Stevie asked. "When will Darcy stop calling me a dork?"

  Seth kicked him under the table. "Maybe when you stop being one?"

  "Okay, guys, enough. Who wants to shower first?" I asked.

  Stevie put his plate on the counter. "Seth does. He smells bad."

  "You're the one who needs some deodorant." Seth threw a piece of garlic bread at his brother's head.

  Within seconds, they were rolling around on the floor with Rusty barking and bouncing between the two of them.

  "Do not!"

  "You do too!"

  Without a word, Greg calmly put the paper down and lifted each boy off the floor and into his arms. He half dragged, half carried them toward the bathroom. Both kids kicked and shrieked with laughter while Rusty trotted up the stairs behind them all.

  I got up to clear the table, relieved to leave the dishes for Darcy. My head ached again, and I wanted to lie down for a few minutes. As I stacked dishes in the sink, my cell phone buzzed. I studied the screen, but didn't recognize the number. I cringed inwardly. What if it was another reporter? I could always hang up. Then again, it might be a lead. Boy, did I need one of those right now. "Hello?"

  "Good evening, is this Cindy?" a deep male voice asked.

  "Yes, speaking."

  "Hi there. Ken Sorenson here."