“Nice, huh?” Christy was working on a client, a charming grin flitting across her face. “I bet you wish you had central air now, don’t you? Did Nick manage to get any of those air conditioning units put up after the hoopla yesterday?”
Maddie shrugged as she planted herself in the extra chair next to her friend. The woman she was working on, Debbie Hall, didn’t seem bothered by the possibility of Christy’s attention being split so Maddie carried on the conversation as if they didn’t have an audience. Blackstone Bay was small. The information was likely out there anyway.
“He put one in our bedroom window, but the rest of the house is like a furnace.”
“Maybe he likes it that way,” Debbie said sagely. “Men like sweaty women.”
Maddie forced a tight-lipped smile as Christy snickered. “I will certainly ask him. If he’s falling down on the job simply because he likes sweat, I can guarantee a big fight is in our future.”
“Oh, isn’t that cute?” A familiar voice drawled from one of the chairs down the way, causing Maddie to lean to her side so she could get a better view. “Maddie and Nick are finally fighting. It’s about time. I knew they couldn’t stay that sickly-sweet forever.”
Maddie’s lips tipped down as she met the steady gaze of Marla Proctor. Unlike her grandmother, Maddie didn’t relish the idea of having an arch nemesis. She had one all the same. Marla had been her biggest adversary since they were in grade school. For some reason Maddie could never understand, Marla insisted on singling her out to pick on. Maddie still carried the psychological scars, although she refused to play downtrodden victim to Marla’s gleeful bully any longer.
“Are you here to get your upper lip bleached?” Maddie asked in a loud and clear tone. “I’m so relieved. I didn’t want to say anything, but even Tom Selleck was starting to get uncomfortable.”
Christy barked out a laugh, clearly amused. Marla, on the other hand, merely glared.
“I don’t have to take this.” Her eyes were dark. “I’m a paying customer. I shouldn’t have to be verbally abused in a public place.”
“Then you can leave,” Christy said, her scissors busy as she worked over Debbie’s hair. “We’ve been over this a thousand times, Marla. I don’t need your business. Heck, I don’t want your business. You’re the one who keeps begging for me to allow you return visits.”
Marla’s mouth dropped open as fury practically dripped from her tongue. “You take that back! I don’t beg.”
“That’s not what the garbage man says,” Debbie drawled, clearly enjoying the game. “He says you’re all about begging when it comes time to ride his trash compactor.”
Maddie was dumbfounded. “Debbie. I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I know.” Debbie appeared proud of herself. “I’m really coming into my own now that I’m finally getting divorced. My therapist says it’s good for me to get my aggression out ... and Marla is an easy target.”
“Oh, whatever.” The face Marla made was humorous enough that Maddie had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “I really don’t understand why I take this abuse.”
“You take it because you don’t want to have to drive one town over to get your hair cut and dyed,” another voice interjected, causing Maddie to flick her eyes to the last chair in the room. There, her face unreadable, Cassidy Dunham watched the potential fight unfold. “If you wanted to avoid a fight, you would go elsewhere. You don’t, which makes me believe you like the fights.”
Marla turned her outrage to Cassidy. “Did I ask you?”
“It’s nice to see you guys getting along so well,” Christy deadpanned, her scissors busy as she snipped away at Debbie’s hair. “I love it when friends turn on each other. It’s like one of those nature shows. You know ... they were part of the same pack until one of them got scurvy and turned into a cannibal. Just in case you’re wondering, Marla, you’re the cannibal.”
Marla rolled her eyes. “Seriously. You can’t treat me like his. I’ll file a complaint with ... um ... the people you file complaints with.”
Maddie’s amusement ratcheted up a notch. “Yeah, Christy. She’s going to file a complaint with the people you file complaints with.”
“Frankly, I’m terrified. I don’t know what will happen when I lose my business because the people you file complaints with take it for no good reason. How will I feed my baby?”
Maddie took a moment to survey the room, unsure if Christy had just outed her pregnancy, but no one reacted. That meant Christy had made the announcement herself at a previous time, something that relieved Maddie immensely.
“I’m just going to sit here and be quiet,” Marla snapped. “Once I’m done here, I’m done. You won’t ever see my business again.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Christy waved off the comment and focused on her best friend. “Do you know anything else about the body that was found yesterday?”
Several sets of keen eyes shifted in Maddie’s direction. No one asked the obvious question, but it was clear everyone was interested in hearing the gossip.
“I know her name was Shelby Capshaw. She was living with her parents — although I’m not sure I know who they are — and working out at the Blackstone Greenhouse.”
Christy’s eyes widened. “The greenhouse? But ... .” She trailed off.
“I heard she died like Sarah Alden,” Marla supplied, clearly forgetting her vow to keep quiet. “If she worked at the greenhouse — just like Dustin and Todd — it seems to me that perhaps there were more than two people in that initial killing crew. Maybe there were three ... and someone is trying to finish the job.”
Maddie didn’t want to consider the possibility — mostly because Marla was the one who suggested it — but she couldn’t push the notion entirely out of her head. “I don’t know what to make of it. Nick and Dale are out at the greenhouse questioning workers. It’s a weird situation.”
“It’s weird that the body was found so close to your house,” Cassidy noted. “I remember when that was all going down the first time. Nick was worried about you from the start. If it’s happening again, I’m surprised he let you out of the house.”
She didn’t sound especially bitter so Maddie forced herself to remain calm and engaging. “There are a lot of possibilities. We don’t know the two cases are tied together.”
“How could they not be?”
“It could be a copycat,” Christy suggested. “It’s been a year. Todd’s about to go on trial. Maybe someone is trying to replicate his work as a way to get him off or something.”
“That’s a worrisome thought.” Cassidy gnawed on her bottom lip. “What does Nick think? Should we be worried?”
“I don’t know that there’s a pattern,” Maddie replied. “The cases might not be tied together at all. It could be a coincidence.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Maddie felt obliged to tell the truth. “No. I don’t believe that. I think there are too many similarities for it to be a coincidence.”
“So, do we have a third killer or a copycat?” Christy mused. “I’m not sure which outcome is better.”
Maddie couldn’t help but agree. “Either way, everybody should be careful until this one is solved. Don’t walk anywhere alone after dark ... and be careful when you’re around new people or someone you don’t entirely trust. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“On that we can agree,” Marla said, bobbing her head sagely. “I’m going to start carrying pepper spray. No one is going to kidnap me. I can guarantee that.”
Maddie arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry, Marla. If they took you, they’d cut you loose within five minutes. Even serial killers don’t want to hang with you.”
“Thank you.”
Christy snickered. “I don’t think she meant that as a compliment.”
“Of course she did. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Six
Henry wasn’t exactly a fountain of information, but one tidbit he
had to offer piqued Nick’s interest.
“This is the spot I was telling you about.” Henry’s attitude hadn’t improved, but he wisely decided to help rather than hinder, going so far as to take Nick and Kreskin on a little tour of his property.
“And you said the seasonal workers have been coming out here to party a few nights a week?” Kreskin furrowed his brow as he looked around the small area. It reminded him of a garbage dump rather than a forest party utopia.
“Yeah. I warned them about coming out here, but none of them cared to listen.” Henry kicked an empty beer can and shook his head. “I’m going to make them come out here and clean this place up.”
“Not until we’ve given it a good search,” Nick cautioned, moving toward the edge of the field so he could kneel next to a pile of cans. “It looks as if they’ve been drinking quite a bit. Are all of your workers legal?”
The look Henry shot Nick was speculative. “Are you really going to arrest some kids for underage drinking in the middle of a murder investigation?”
“No.” Nick shook his head. “I have no intention of arresting anyone for drinking unless they take to driving after. I’m just trying to get a feel for the group that comes out here.”
“I have thirty seasonal workers. They range in age from sixteen to thirty. The older ones are looking to make extra money, usually for a vacation or to put away for the lean winter months. The younger ones are looking for spending money so they can buy beer.”
“And what about the ones in between?” Kreskin asked as he used a pen to move a few beer cans. “What are they looking for when they come to work for you?”
“It’s a mixture.”
Kreskin waited for Henry to expand on the issue.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Henry said finally. “A lot of the kids I got this year — and I call anyone under the age of twenty-five a kid, for reference — but a lot of them were coming out of college and couldn’t find jobs.”
“Like Shelby,” Nick mused.
“She was a smart girl, pleasant. This wasn’t what she saw herself doing for a living, though. Her parents made her get a job. Even though she didn’t come right out and say it, I got the feeling that she was a little bitter about the situation.”
“It’s a different world than twenty years ago,” Kreskin noted. “Before, you could be reasonably assured of finding a job no matter what if you went to college. Now things are different.”
“Personally, I think we need more skilled laborers.” Henry turned philosophical. “We need educated growers ... and electricians ... and plumbers. These kids today all fancy themselves as businessmen and sportscasters, though. There are not enough positions for everyone to have a job.”
“Did you spend a lot of time with Shelby?” Nick asked, moving closer to the trees so he could study the underbrush. “Did you get a sense for what she had planned?”
“I don’t know if she had anything planned. Like I said, she was bitter about her parents making her work. She didn’t really have a choice if she expected to live with them, though. My understanding is that they were fairly stern.”
“We saw them this morning,” Kreskin volunteered. “They were broken up. They didn’t even know she was missing. They have a walkout basement, and Shelby comes and goes as she pleases. They said she had early shifts for you so they didn’t think much of it.”
“That’s something I don’t get,” Nick noted, slowly moving along the clearing edge. “If they were stern enough to insist she get a job, why weren’t they paying closer attention to her movements?”
“She wasn’t a child,” Kreskin pointed out. “She was an adult ... and not even an eighteen-year-old adult. She was twenty-three. A kid that age needs freedom or things will come to a head.”
Nick pursed his lips. “I guess.”
“Did you live with your parents when you were twenty-three?” Kreskin challenged.
“No. I finished the academy when I was twenty and worked in Traverse City as a uniformed officer for a few years before heading back to Blackstone Bay. I had an apartment with three other guys while I was over there.”
“So you had your freedom.”
“Yeah.”
“It sounds to me as if Shelby had no choice but to live with her parents because she had no other options,” Kreskin said. “That doesn’t mean the arrangement was comfortable for everybody.”
“Okay. So ... what do we know about her?” Nick dusted his hands on the seat of his pants as he moved to a spot at the far edge of the circle. “She didn’t grow up here. Her parents moved to Blackstone Bay after she went to college, so she’s not friends with any of the locals. How did she get along with her co-workers, Henry?”
Henry shrugged. “She seemed fine. She didn’t get in fights or anything. Some of the girls looked at each other sideways when the mood struck because that’s how girls are.”
Amused despite himself, Nick arched a speculative eyebrow. “And how are girls?”
“You know. They fight because they like to fight. They’re territorial.”
“About boys?” Kreskin queried. “I’m guessing in an environment like what you have at the greenhouse and in the fields that there are a few boys who are considered attractive and the girls flock around those specific boys.”
“That’s pretty close to accurate.”
“So ... which boys?”
“I guess the main one would be Harris Bishop.”
Nick stilled, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. “Bishop? As in Dustin’s brother?”
“His older brother,” Henry clarified. “Dustin is only just turning twenty, I think ... he still might be nineteen for all I know. Harris is pushing twenty-five and he’s a good worker.”
“I didn’t know he was still in town,” Kreskin mused. “Why is he working for you?”
“I just told you he was a good worker.”
“Yes, but his brother is a murderer,” Nick supplied. “Not only was he a murderer, but he hunted for targets in your greenhouse with your nephew. I would think that alone would be enough for you to send Harris packing. Heck, I thought Harris was someplace in the middle of the state.”
“We checked on him as a possible accomplice last year,” Kreskin noted. “We ruled him out because he was working for a domestic oil company as a roughneck at the time. He had early hours and worked seventy-two hours straight for some shifts.”
“Which means he’s not a killer,” Henry persisted. “The boy is ... quiet, a hard worker. He’s respectful to those around him and he doesn’t make waves. He returned to the area because his mother was a mess after Dustin’s arrest. He thought someone should take care of her and he was the only one who could.”
“Fair enough.” Kreskin lifted his hands in capitulation. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate he was a bad kid. I was simply confused. I give you credit for hiring him. Most others wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not most others.” Henry was bordering on belligerent. “I know what it’s like to be accused of something I didn’t do.”
Nick had no idea if Henry was referring to the sexual assault from his misspent youth or the round of questions he underwent following Todd’s arrest. He didn’t get a chance to ask the obvious question because something caught his attention in the heavy foliage to his right.
“I think I might have something.”
Kreskin crossed the clearing, Henry at his side, and watched as Nick darted into the trees. A few moments later, Nick returned with a small purse. It didn’t look to be expensive, but it was well kept and clearly not something that someone discarded on a whim.
“Who does it belong to?” Henry asked, tilting his head to the side as Nick dug inside and came back with a wallet.
Nick was already operating under a sense of dread when he opened the wallet and focused on the license, a familiar face staring back at him. “It’s Shelby Capshaw’s wallet.”
“Oh, geez.” Kreskin rolled his eyes to the sky. �
��Well, at least we know she was out here at some point.”
“Yeah, but how did she leave?” Nick flipped over the purse so he could stare at it more closely under the sun. “There’s no blood or anything.”
“What does that mean?” Henry was honestly curious.
“I don’t know. I think it means we need to start talking to the kids who party out here, though. We’re going to need a list.”
Henry sighed. “This is never going to end, is it?”
“I hope that’s not the case. We want to end this as quickly as possible ... for all our sakes.”
CHRISTY HAD AN OPEN AFTERNOON so she gladly hopped in a car with Maddie and headed to the Blackstone Greenhouse. Once Maddie related everything she knew about the case, Christy was eager to be part of the investigative team. Maddie wasn’t sure it was a good idea because of Christy’s condition, but one dark look from her best friend told her it was probably unwise to dwell on the fact that Christy might be somehow more delicate than she was before John knocked her up.
“I’m pregnant, not an invalid,” Christy grumbled as she climbed out of her car and shoved her keys in her purse. “I wish people would stop treating me as if I’m suddenly breakable.”
Maddie balked. “I don’t think people are trying to treat you as if you’re breakable,” she countered, searching for the right words to soothe her friend. “It’s more that they want to treat you as a queen. You’re a queen who is going to give birth to a little prince or princess in seven months and you deserve to be treated like royalty.”
Instead of arguing with Maddie’s assessment, the redhead sent her friend an appraising look. “That was unbelievably smooth the way you did that. You’re getting so much better at manipulating people.”
Maddie returned the smile. “Thank you. I’m a work in progress.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.” Christy returned to her diatribe without missing a beat. “I’m young and healthy. The baby will be healthy. Other than morning sickness, which has actually helped me lose weight, there’s nothing wrong with me.”
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