by Nancy Basile
“Roy’s back in town? Good Lord, that hooligan disappeared years ago. Where did you see him?” She eyed Robin like a raptor on a scent. “Did you stop, even knowing we were waiting?” Her mother’s lips, always perfectly tinted a light mauve, puckered.
“No, I didn’t stop. I mean, yes, I did, but—”
“Dear, you’re not making sense. Did you stop or not? Where did you see Roy?”
“Someone shot him.” That stopped her mother’s questions. “He was at his place. He was bleeding and fell out on the road. I almost ran over him.”
“Oh, my God,” Jenn breathed.
Her mother’s hand flew up to her mouth. Deb rested her hand on Jenn’s arm. Her father, his eyes sharp on his daughter, leaned forward on his forearms. “Did you see who shot him?” He squeezed her hand with his. “Are you all right?”
She squeezed back. “I’m fine. A little shaken, but fine. And, no, I didn’t see who shot him.”
Jenn pretended to wipe sweat from her forehead in a wide swipe, but her mother sat as still as a butter carving, not even blinking.
As succinctly as she could, Robin explained what happened. Her insides were hollow, telling them about how she hadn’t been able to keep Roy alive long enough for the paramedics to arrive. If only the medics had arrived a few minutes earlier, he might have lived. That “if only” would haunt her for the rest of her life.
She found comfort in her dad’s easy smile. “You did everything you could, little bird. I’m proud of you.” Warmth spread through her chest. Her father’s approval meant everything to her.
“What now?” He blinked and drank his tea.
“I don’t know.” Robin ran her hand across the back of her neck and squeezed. Her shoulders were stretched tight as a balloon about to pop. “I told Chris everything I knew. He said he might get in touch later, if he has questions.”
A sharp pain hit her shin. “Ow!”
“So, how was Chris?” Jenn’s lips twisted and her eyes sparkled.
Robin squinted a warning look at her sister. “He seemed fine.”
“Very fine, I’m sure.” Jenn winked. Robin sent nasty brainwaves in her sister’s direction. She did not need her mother picking up on that subtext. Her mother would bemoan Robin’s lack of a man in her life and shove her toward Chris. Hm, would that be so bad?
“Well,” her mother eyed Robin over her teacup, “you could have called to tell us all that. I had no idea where you were. For all I knew, you were the one who was dead by the side of the road.”
“Mom, stop.” Jenn shot their mother a look that meant business. “We’re all just happy that Robin is okay. And she’s here now. That’s what’s important.” Who was who’s ally now?
Their mother sniffed. “Well, I can’t be there for your fitting now. I have too much on my plate.” Frances put her cup and saucer in the sink and checked the cookies in the oven.
Deb elbowed Jenn. “What did the seamstress say?”
“She can see Robin today, because she’s just at her shop working on our dresses.” Jenn batted her eyes at Robin. “Can we pretty please go right now? It would be at least one thing I can check off my list.” Jenn ran her hands through her hair. “I’m so worried something is going to go wrong with this wedding.”
“Then, let’s go.” Robin drained her teacup and stood up. Might as well get it over with.
After goodbye hugs all around, Robin, Jenn, and Deb stepped into the dappled shade of the driveway. Robin blew out a long breath. This was already the longest week of her life and it wasn’t even lunchtime. Being home made her feel jumpy, uncomfortable in her own skin. She felt like someone was shoving her into a bodycon dress that was too snug and horribly unflattering. It’s not that she had changed a lot since she had moved to Cleveland, but she wasn’t the same person who had lived in River Sutton.
Deb headed toward her own car, a forest-green Jeep Grand Cherokee. Robin threw her a sideways glance. “Aren’t you coming, too?”
“Nope.” Deb opened her car door, grinning like the cat who ate the roadkill. “I’ve got some work to do. I want to clear my inbox as much as I can before I take two weeks off for the wedding.” Deb was a big shot sales executive with some firm in Pittsburgh.
“And the honeymoon.” Jenn waggled her eyebrows at Deb. Too cute.
The sisters climbed into Robin’s car, Jenn turning all the air vents toward herself. “Let’s get some coffee before we go. I’m sure you’re going through withdrawal, since mom only has tea in the house.”
Robin rolled her eyes and started the engine. “Is it a good idea for me to load up on coffee right before a dress fitting?”
With a tsk, Jenn waved away that ridiculous notion. “You’ll be fine. Plus, it’ll be nice to have you all to myself for a while. All mom can talk about is the wedding.” Her pretty pink lips formed a pout. “It’s like nothing happened in my life before this wedding, and nothing will happen after.”
“Where can we get good coffee around here?” The only restaurant in River Sutton that Robin liked was Taco Huey’s. Best tacos ever, hands down. But no coffee.
Jenn gave Robin a coy smile. “I know just the place.”
Chapter 4
“That’s when Deb’s mom told us, out of the blue, that she was allergic to lilies.” As Jenn chatted almost incessantly about flowers, candles, tulle, fairy lights, and whatever Jordan almonds were, Robin studied the scenery as it flew by. Every house, gas station, and wide spot in the road was as familiar to her as her own reflection.
When Jenn directed Robin to turn into the old diner’s parking lot, Robin was pleasantly surprised to see someone had re-invented the restaurant as a coffee shop. The bricks were power-washed, the trim was freshly painted, and the letters on the sign above the parking lot weren’t re-arranged into naughty words like they were when the building stood empty. The sign read, “Grounds for Appeal.” Appropriate, since the coffee shop was down the hill and across the road from the courthouse. “This week’s special: Mochas Operandi.” Robin barked a laugh so loud Jenn jumped in her seat.
“I know. Cute, right?” Her sister was familiar with Robin’s love of puns.
Robin opened her car door and a wave of heat rose from the asphalt. “I’m surprised anyone would open a new business here, especially a coffee shop.” River Sutton’s clientele preferred cheap beer over any other beverage.
Jenn scoffed. “It’s no Starbucks, but it’s very good. And it gives teenagers somewhere to hang out instead of busting glass bottles against the side of buildings. They even have open mic nights and poetry readings.” When Robin’s eyebrows shot into her hairline, Jenn said, “I know. It surprised me how many people showed up for the last one.”
Robin stared at Jenn as they entered the blessed air conditioning of the restaurant. “You went? Since when are you into poetry?”
“Since never.” Jenn grimaced. “Deb loves it, though.” She got one of those sickly sweet smiles on her face, thinking of her intended.
The diner’s interior was the same as it had been in high school, with burnt-orange vinyl booths and linoleum tabletops. At the front stood the same cracked, mustard-colored counter with chrome stools to match. Funny. Robin remembered the diner being much bigger inside. The two-story Starbucks near her office could swallow this place in one bite.
They slipped into a booth and scanned the menus, which were printed to look like court documents. It listed the plaintiff as “Cotton-Mouthed Customer,” vs. the defendant, “Brilliant Barista.” Grounds for Appeal was quickly earning a five-star review from Robin, depending on whether the coffee was up to snuff.
She caught Jenn peeking at her over the menu. “What? Is there something on my face?” Her fingers roved over her mouth and cheeks.
“No.” Jenn dropped her eyes to her menu. “I just miss you.”
Robin’s heart squeezed. She didn’t come home often because she frequently worked on Saturdays, and a two-hour drive was too long to meet for dinner on a weeknight. “I miss yo
u, too. Sorry if I haven’t been a stellar maid of honor.”
Jenn sighed. “You know, if you lived here, you wouldn’t have to use the phone. We could just visit.”
“Please don’t.” Robin almost whined. “You know, there isn’t a company in the county that offers the career path I have in Cleveland.”
“But there’s Pitt—”
Robin held up her hand. “And an hour-long commute one way might work for Deb, but that’s not what I want.” She rested her hand on Jenn’s. “Look, right now is just not the time.”
Jenn stuck out her bottom lip. “But it would be so fun.”
“You better pull that lip back in before a bird flies by and poops on it.” Jenn laughed.
A scrawny kid in a black judge’s robe came to the table and took their orders. They both ordered the Mochas Operandi special.
Robin cleared her throat. “Before things get crazy, I want to make sure you know that I’m so happy you’re marrying someone who loves you and will treat you right.”
Jenn dropped her eyes, but couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from lifting. “Do you really think I made the right choice?”
“Absolutely.” Robin waited until she could catch Jenn’s eye. “She cherishes you. I can see it. And it makes me very happy.”
The scrawny faux judge brought their coffees in mugs that were shaped like the heads of gavels. Verdict? Delicious. The blend of mocha, cream, and coffee was in perfect proportions.
The bell above the door tinkled behind Robin. Jenn’s eyes widened, and she directed a meaningful gaze at Robin, who couldn’t guess what was up. Then she heard someone drawl, “Hey, there, Jenn. How’s the wedding coming along?” Robin looked up, and next to their table stood her old nemesis, Troy Harris.
Robin dropped her eyes to her drink when Troy turned his head in her direction. From the corner of her eye, she saw him frowning, then his face lit up. She could swear he had a light bulb over his head.
“Robin?” He leaned down so that it forced her to look at him. “Well, I’ll be. I haven’t seen you since we graduated.”
She took a sip of her mocha.
Troy Harris had been awful to her since kindergarten, when he would tug her braids. As they got older, he moved on to taunting her about her looks. They hadn’t run in the same social circles — he was more popular than she was — but they rode the bus together, so she had to spend an hour every morning and every afternoon listening to him braying about his alleged successes in football and with girls.
His appearance had changed little since high school. Robin thought he looked like a bulldog. He was average height, with a thick neck and a barrel chest. He still wore his sandy-colored hair in a short buzz cut. His suit was nicely tailored, dark gray, with a crisp white shirt, and a Kelly-green tie patterned with a subtle check. Robin even spotted cufflinks molded into miniscule pots of gold. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, he looked spiffy.
Robin pulled her mouth into a facsimile of a smile. “Hello, Troy.” She half wished he would try to tease her now, so she could bust a few of her favorite moves from kickboxing class.
An awkward silence fell thicker than peanut butter fudge. Robin wasn’t uncomfortable, however. She had nothing to say to Troy. Nothing nice, anyway. Jenn was also happy to keep mum, waiting for some fireworks, no doubt. But when Troy realized Robin wouldn’t say anything, he rebooted the conversation, all charm. “It’s so nice to see you. You look great.”
“Thank you.” She refused to offer him a compliment in return.
“Um, I take it you’re home for Jenn’s wedding?” He slid his hands into his pants pockets, revealing a shiny brass buckle that also sported a pot of gold. There was a tiny white tag pinned to his sleeve.
“Were you running late this morning?”
He stepped back. “What?” His brow furrowed.
“You have a tag on your sleeve.”
“Oh!” He yanked the straight pin out of his sleeve, removing the tag. He popped them both in a nearby trash can. “Just picked up my suit from the cleaners. I work out in the morning and change in the gym at the casino. Guess I forgot to take the tag off.” His face reddened, and he cleared his throat. “I hear you live in Cleveland now, doing something with websites. I’m not surprised. You were so smart in school. Professor Robin, am I right?”
Jenn’s hand flew to her mouth, barely stopping herself from doing a spit-take. Robin breathed a long sigh. “Yep.”
Turning to Jenn, Troy asked, “Any big bachelorette plans for the night before the wedding? Mountain Gold Casino has special packages for wedding parties.” He shot her with finger guns to emphasize his point.
Jenn spotted Robin’s confused look and explained, “Troy owns Mountain Gold Casino now.”
The pot of gold accessories now made sense. Troy must have real pots of gold somewhere, if he could afford to buy the casino.
Jenn turned back to Troy. “I’m just hanging with Robin the night before. I don’t know what Deb has planned. That’s for her and her friends to decide. I have enough to take care of.” Jenn held her hand up to her mouth, like a vaudevillian actor. “I’ll be happy if she shows up at the altar on time and sober.” She winked.
Troy snorted. He was probably always “on,” making sales and closing deals to keep the casino profitable.
“Oh, but I shouldn’t be joking right now.” Jenn touched Troy’s sleeve. “I’m so sorry to hear about Roy. I know you guys were good friends, back in the day.”
Robin’s mocha formed a sloshy puddle in her stomach. She’d forgotten Troy had been friends with Roy.
Troy frowned and narrowed his eyes. “What about Roy?”
Jenn looked like a squirrel caught red-handed on a bird feeder. “Maybe the news hasn’t made its way around town yet.” She looked to Robin for help, but — like the menu suggested — Robin had a cotton-mouth at the moment. Jenn soldiered on. “He got shot earlier today. Robin saw him.”
Troy spun his head in Robin’s direction so fast she almost pulled back from him. “You saw him get shot?” Oh no. She had to repeat the entire story, and she didn’t want to relive it again.
She kept it short. “I didn’t actually see him get shot. Whoever it was already shot him when I almost hit him with my car in front of his double-wide.” Under his spray tan, the color drained from Troy’s face. She’d always read about that happening to people in shock. Huh. It really happened. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she threw in hastily. She truly was. Not for Troy, but for poor Roy. No matter what kind of degenerate he’d been in high school, he didn’t deserve to be shot and killed, especially so young.
Troy’s eyes fixed on their table and glazed over. Then he brought his attention back to Robin. “Did you see anything? Someone running away? Or a car? Anything?”
He seemed lost and desperate. Great. Now she was feeling sorry for him. “No. Nothing.” She wrapped her hands around her mug. The hollow feeling had returned. “I wasn’t any help at all.”
Jenn rested her hand on Robin’s. “Hey, you did everything you could. Remember that.”
Roy’s face flashed in her mind. His mouth opening and closing, trying to speak. “He did say something, though, just before he died.”
Troy’s eyes fixed on her. He swallowed. She couldn’t believe he was getting so choked up. Sometime between high school and now, he must have grown a heart. “What did he say?”
Robin shrugged. “Something about telling someone named Jo Jo that he was sorry. Does that make sense to you?”
Slowly, he nodded his head, looking straight at Robin, but not really seeing her. “He probably meant Jodi.” He straightened, staring out the window into the parking lot. “Thanks for the news. Good to see you. I have to go.” With that, he strode out the door, the bell tinkling behind him.
“Wow, he took that harder than I would have thought.” Robin realized Jenn was staring at her, too, her mouth hanging open. “Shut your trap or you’ll catch flies.”
“That’s who Roy
meant.” Jenn smacked her forehead. “Jodi Clark.”
“Who’s Jodi?” Robin’s memory clicked into gear. “Wait, do you mean Jodi Jenkins?” Jodi Jenkins and Robin had been friends of circumstance as kids because they’d both been in 4-H. They’d worked together on plant projects and loved attending county fairs together. When they reached high school, they lost touch. While Robin was in the library, Jodi was on homecoming and prom courts.
“It’s Jodi Clark now,” Jenn clarified. “She married Bruce Clark. Remember him?”
“A jock, right?” Jenn nodded in confirmation.
“Exactly. But here’s the thing.” Jenn leaned across the table and waved Robin closer. Robin leaned in, too. “There’s a rumor that Jodi was having an affair with Roy.”
Chapter 5
“Redneck-to-the-bone Roy was having an affair with always-the-court-of-honor-never-the-queen Jodi? I’m not buying it.” Robin drained her mocha, then waved to the server that they’d both like refills. The image of pretty, trendy Jodi with disheveled Roy seemed like a “one of these things is not like the other” brain teaser.
“On two different occasions, in the past couple of weeks, folks spotted Roy at Jodi’s house, during the day, while Bruce was at work.” Jenn sucked in her lips, as if the rumor was especially tasty.
“That could mean anything.” Robin refused to jump to conclusions. “Maybe he was fixing something for her. Maybe he was delivering something. Didn’t his family used to chop wood for money on the side?”
If Jenn’s eyes rolled any higher, she’d bust a blood vessel. “That was before he disappeared.” She lowered her voice. “On top of that, Bruce made a scene at Corkey’s, yelling at Roy to stay away from his wife.” Corkey’s Convenient Store was the only grocery store in a ten-mile radius, though it only had about four aisles. If Bruce had yelled at Roy in Corkey’s, everyone in the store would have heard him, and then everyone in town would know about it.