Cinnamon Girl

by S. J. MacIver

  "Mean how?"

  She leaned across the table and again spoke in a whisper. "He's the one used to beat her up all the time and stalk her everywhere she went, even after she married Jerry. He never forgave her for that, you know, marrying someone else."

  Red hair flying over her shoulder, Sindy turned her attention back to Mike. "My money's on Dale as the killer. What do you think?"

  "Oh, I suppose he's as good a suspect as anyone."

  Lacy nudged his knee with her own, and then jumped back into the conversation. "I do know the police are looking everywhere for Dale, but so far, nobody seems to know where he is or when he left. He is, as they say, in the wind."

  Looking back at Lacy, she shrugged and said, "I hope they find him at the bottom of the river. I really do."

  Directing the conversation back to the victim, Lacy asked, "Tell me about Candee as a friend. Did you two spend much time together outside of work?"

  "Oh, sure. We were such good friends, I think if I wasn't living with my boyfriend, me and Candee would have gotten a place of our own and maybe none of this would have happened."

  Nothing to say to that. She tried a different angle. "What did you and Candee do when you were together outside of work? What were her interests?"

  She cocked her head, concentrating. "Interests? Candee was real athletic and always working on her act. She could work that pole like nobody's business."

  She paused here, shifted her gaze to Mike, and winked.

  Lacy quickly said, "By interests, I meant things she did other than to prepare for work."

  Sindy shrugged. "We shopped some, I guess, but mostly sat around complaining about the men in our lives, that is, until she hooked up with Jerry."

  "Were you around them much once they became a couple?"

  Sindy shook her head and the tip of the feather dusted her shoulder. "No, it's not like we double-dated or anything. Jerry was probably embarrassed by me and the other girls at the lounge, so we didn't see each other much after he told her not to dance anymore."

  "So once Candee quit working, you weren't in contact with her?"

  "Oh, sure. We still talked on the phone and went shopping. It's just that we didn't have the same troubles anymore. She still had her share of troubles though."

  With a loud 'whoop' of a laugh, Sindy threw herself back against the seat cushion. When she caught her breath, she said, "Boy did she ever get some new, interesting troubles at that."

  Lacy glanced around the restaurant and noted that several patrons were staring their way. She dove into the French fries, nibbled on a few, and then went back to the interview. By then, Sindy was back to ogling Mike.

  "Excuse me," she said pointedly. "But you said Candee had some new troubles? Could you explain what you mean?"

  Sindy took a long, exaggerated draw on the straw inserted into her malt, rolled her eyes at Mike, and then swallowed and said, "I meant that she no longer had any man troubles—Jerry was awful good to her—but that she got some new problems in the bargain. Jerry has an ex-wife."

  "Yes, I've met her."

  Sindy giggled. "She about went nuts when Jerry started seeing Candee. Once they decided to get married, the ex just went bats and did go nuts."

  "Nuts in what way?"

  "Well," she whispered conspiratorially. "After Candee moved in with Jerry—he wasn't divorced yet—Carole, the ex, started calling them at all hours of the day and night. If they weren't there, she'd leave terrible messages on the answer machine."

  By now Lacy was jotting furiously.

  "Then," Sindy continued. "They started building their dream home out there on Fox Island. When Carole found out about that, she started sneaking out there at night and vandalizing the place."

  "Do you have specifics?"

  Sindy furrowed her brow.

  "What did Carole do to the place?"

  "Oh, if I remember, she went through all the rooms and spray painted nasty things on the walls. One time she broke all of the windows, or most of them anyway."

  Lacy couldn't remember any police reports listing that kind of damage. "Wasn't Carole arrested for this?"

  "No. Even if they could have proved it was her, and I don't think they could, Jerry didn't want to put his son through all that with his mother. What he did was hire a night watchman to make sure she didn't do any more damage."

  "And that worked?"

  Sindy laughed. "It did after the night the watchman caught her driving up to the place. Candee said it looked like the woman was planning to ram her big ole SUV right through the front door."

  Lacy thought back to the day she'd met Carole and the way she'd been going off on the gardener. It wasn't hard to imagine the woman capable of the things Sindy had told her.

  "Well," Sindy said, snatching one last French fry off of the plate. "I'd best get going or I'll be late for work. Did you get what you need for your article?"

  "I certainly have a lot more than I did before this interview. I really appreciate your candor."

  Sindy pushed out of the booth, and then stood next to Mike. Running her fingernail along his shirtsleeve, she said, "Now that we've got this interview out of the way, why don't you two come on down to the lounge and catch the show? I can get you real good seats."

  Lacy willed her cheeks to stay cool. "Oh, no thanks, Sindy. I have another appointment."

  She zeroed in on Mike. "What about you, handsome? Front row seats, first drink on the house?"

  He jabbed a thumb toward Lacy. "I, ah, I'm with her."

  "So that's how it is." Sindy smiled and waggled a finger back and forth between the two of them. "I thought I noticed sparks when you first came in, but then I see sparks everywhere I go. So you two are an item?"

  "Oh, no," Lacy said at the same time Mike chimed in.

  "We are."

  Sindy cut loose with one of those loud laughs. "Maybe you ought to interview each other to find out who's seeing who."

  "Maybe we should," Lacy said, urging Mike to vacate the booth. "Thanks again for the interview. May I call you if I have more questions?"

  "Sure," Sindy said, making room for them in the aisle. "You've got my number." She jabbed Mike in the chest. "And I've got yours."

  At Lacy's insistence, she paid the tab and left a tip. Then, relieved that the interview was over, she followed Mike out to his truck. The plan was to head back to Bismarck and sample the fare at a new barbecue restaurant. After they'd settled into their seats and strapped themselves in, Mike shoved the key into the ignition, but instead of firing up the engine, he suddenly sat back in his seat.

  Puzzled, Lacy said, "Aren't we going back to town for supper?"

  "Not yet. I'd like to ask you about a couple of things you said during the interview first—that is, if it's not against the rules."

  There wasn't much mirth in his tone. She carefully said, "I hope you're not mad about the way I cut you off here and there. It seemed like you were the only one Sindy really wanted to talk to, and I had to do something to get her attention so I could get my questions answered."

  He gave off a soft laugh. "I wasn't referring to that. I'd have steered her your way eventually."

  "Huh," Lacy grumbled. "I'm not sure I could have stayed awake that long."

  Mike remained silent, didn't even utter a chuckle. Then he finally said, "The thing I'm wondering about is us."

  "Us?" she said blankly.

  "That's exactly my point. You made it sound as if we don't even know each other."

  Lacy sat there trying to recall a point during the interview where he might have gotten that idea, but came up empty. "I'm not sure what you mean."

  He pushed out an exaggerated sigh. "When Sindy asked if we were a couple, you couldn't say 'no' fast enough. It gave me more than a little pause, and made me wonder what you think is going on between us."

  "Oh," she said, her voice low. "That."

  "Yes, that."

  Mike watched her expression, a cross between cornered rabbit and sly fox, and
slowly shook his head. Something told him not to push her or he might push her completely away, and yet for his own preservation, he needed to set a few boundaries.

  Proceeding cautiously, he said, "Maybe I'm going about this all wrong. Maybe I should have asked this question that first night at the bowling alley."

  Her eyes wide with concern, she kind of backed against the door and asked, "What question?"

  "Are you seeing somebody else?"

  Lacy slapped her hand against her chest and burst out laughing. If he was confused before, now Mike was completely baffled.

  "Is that a yes or a no?"

  "It is," she admitted freely. "A resounding no."

  A sense of relief washed through Mike, but it was short lived.

  Lacy leveled him with a direct gaze as she added, "Frankly, I thought you knew me well enough by now to know that I wouldn't be dining out with you if I was seeing someone else."

  Somehow the tables had turned, one of those male/female dynamics he never had quite figured out. Most likely, he and the males of species never would. The only thing Mike could think to do at this juncture was to lay it all out and let the chips fall where they may.

  "I apologize for even suggesting you might be involved with someone else. I didn't really think that through before I said it. Forgive me?"

  Lacy shrugged, but a softening of her eyes accompanied the gesture.

  "Good, because I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you. You game?"

  "As long as it doesn't involve that shotgun in your backseat, I am."

  Mike took the return of her sense of humor as a good sign. "It involves me and the reasons I came to Bismarck. No firearms need be discharged."

  "I'm all ears."

  And freckles, he thought to himself. Then he cleared his throat and said, "When I came here, I was looking to build a relationship with only one person—me. Somehow while being a cop and a really bad boyfriend, I lost sight of who I am, of what I want out of this life. I hoped to find it here."

  "And did you?"

  "I found a whole lot more than I was looking for, all of it good," he said with a strong sense of satisfaction. "Through Brian, I found a relationship with the Lord, something I'd never, ever sought, not even during my childhood years when my parents dragged me off to church every Sunday."

  Mike could see by Lacy's suddenly anxious expression that she was either put off by the mention of religion, or afraid that he might leap up on the seat and burst into a chorus of hallelujahs. Maybe it was both.

  Not at all sure her reaction would be any different, he changed tracks and shared the part she had played in his transformation.

  "The other thing I was not looking for when I came to Bismarck was another relationship, at least, not right away. I was doing just fine in that department, happy to be single, yet off the market. Then, and thanks again to Brian, I met you."

  As he'd feared, Lacy's anxiety did not abate. It shot straight to panic. "Oh, please," she pleaded. "Don't say any more, especially about me."

  "Don't worry," he said with a laugh. "I'm not proposing or anything nuts like that—even though as I recall, you proposed to me within minutes after we met."

  "That was a joke." She frowned as she studied him. "You look way too serious tonight for any of this to be a joke. I have to tell you, you're making me very nervous."

  Shut up, Mike, shut up, he told himself. Still, his lips began to move and he said, "Don't be nervous. I just want to establish one thing. I quit."

  Her brows shot up. "Quit? What?"

  "I no longer wish to be your photographer. The hours aren't bad, but the pay sucks. Plus, even though I finally met someone who actually wanted me to take a photograph, I still didn't get to take a picture."

  She smiled and played along with him. "If that's your desire, you're fired."

  "That's half my desire. The other half is that you rehire me as your... I'm not sure what the word is these days. Sort of important other? Boyfriend? The person you date exclusively? The man who gets on your nerves so badly that you say 'yes' just to shut him up?"

  "That last one. You're hired as that last one."

  "Really? Does this mean you're okay with the idea of being my cinnamon girl?"

  She smiled sweetly, her eyes shining in the semi-darkness, and nodded slowly.

  Mike leaned across the console and drew Lacy into his arms. "You do realize this is no joke."

  She sort of melted into his embrace. Then, her voice the merest of whispers, Lacy said, "I do."

  Mike could actually feel his heart soaring and every nerve in his body seemed to come alive. And then, even though he was a man known for his cool under any and every condition, he found himself babbling.

  "We could, we probably should seal this deal somehow, a rhyming thing where you seal the deal—"

  Lacy silenced him with a well-placed finger. Then she murmured, "Shut up and kiss me."

  * * *

  The restaurant served pretty good barbecue, at least that's what Lacy and Mike had been told. They spent so much time talking and gazing into each other's eyes during the meal that neither of them could give testament to the chicken and ribs. They barely remembered eating, much less whether the quality was as expected.

  When they arrived back at Lacy's house, Mike dutifully escorted her to the front door, sure that he would be invited in for a cup of coffee and one of those disgusting packaged snack cakes she kept on hand. He couldn't wait.

  As they stepped onto the porch, Mike spotted something round amidst several shards of glass scattered across the bricks. A quick glance upward showed him that one of the decorative windows at the side of the door had been shattered.

  Drawn by the round item, he looked down again, and realized that it was a fist-sized rock.

  Chapter 11

  Mike entered the house first, made sure it was clear of intruders, and then examined the rock. A note had been affixed to it with a few rubber bands. He quickly extracted the slip of paper and spread it on Lacy's coffee table.

  In big handwritten letters it read:

  STOP WRITING ABOUT US!

  "Does this mean anything to you?" Mike asked.

  "Not really. I guess somebody doesn't like my byline or my column, but I can't imagine who it might be. I haven't had any threats at work either by phone, email or even mail. I just don't get this."

  Mike studied the note again. "It says stop writing as if you've done more than one article he doesn't like. You've got some ongoing articles, don't you?"

  She nodded. "At least two. The Hankins murder and the special series I'm doing about the methamphetamine problem here in Bismarck. I can't think of anything else right now."

  Since both of those subjects could draw serious ire, and over Lacy's objections, Mike called the police station and reported the incident. Officers happened to be nearby, so it didn't take long for them to take a report plus jot down details of the earlier, less damaging crimes.

  After the officers left and Mike had finished makeshift repairs on the window, Lacy said, "I still wish you hadn't called the police. I feel like I summoned the fire department because my cat is stuck in a tree."

  "It may seem too small a problem for law enforcement, but since this isn't the first time you've been vandalized, we really had to report it. If they ever catch up with whoever is doing this, it's better if the police have a record of all the damage, firsthand if possible."

  "You think something like this will happen again?"

  He shrugged, unable to reassure her.

  "I just don't understand." She sighed heavily. "And suddenly, I'm really tired. I think we'd better call it a night."

  Mike turned to look at her and saw remnants of fear in her expression and exhaustion in her eyes. He went to her, gathered her into his arms, and gently kissed her forehead. Then he buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the fresh floral scent, and said, "I'm not leaving you here alone tonight."

  She pushed against his chest, not out of his arm
s, but making enough room to look into his eyes. "I don't know how to say this right, but I think maybe now is a good time to let you know what kind of woman I am. Danny is the only man I've ever been with. Even then, it wasn't until our wedding night."

  She made it sound like an apology. Again Mike kissed her forehead, and then he said, "I'm pretty sure I knew all that about you, oh, I don't know... fifteen minutes after we met?"

  Lacy furrowed her brow. "And yet you think I'm going to let you spend the night here?"

  "Yes," he said with a grin. "If it's all right with you, I'd like to spend the night, but over there," he corrected, pointing to the sofa. "I'll be your sentry on the couch. A pillow and blanket aren't necessary, but would be appreciated."

  Her eyes kind of misted over and Lacy let her head fall against his chest. "That would mean a lot to me. As much as I hate to admit it, this latest incident scared me a little."

  "I know. I'm none too crazy about it either."

  She backed out of his embrace. "Other than makeshift bedding, is there anything else I can get for you before I turn in?"

  "Coffee, if it's not too much trouble. I doubt the perp will come back tonight, but I want to keep a good eye on the place for a while."

  "Coming right up."

  Mike busied himself by arranging the couch in the perfect surveillance position, and then turned out the lights that would highlight him in silhouette. Before long, Lacy returned with a couple of blankets and a pillow, and then she ducked into the kitchen. Moments later she returned with a thermos and a mug and put them on the coffee table.

  "There you go," she said. "I've got one more little surprise for you. I'll be right back."

  Mike couldn't imagine what she might have up her sleeve in this night of surprises and revelations. Maybe she would bring him earphones so he could listen to music as he surveyed her property. Perhaps she'd decided to join him for a spell and went to get a second blanket so she could curl up on the chair opposite the sofa. It was too much to hope that she might want to snuggle up with him on the couch for the night.

  Lacy came back into the room then carrying a small plate. As she set it down next to the thermos, she smiled broadly and said, "These are for you in case you get hungry."