I smiled. He always wanted to protect me, and I appreciated that.
I sent Belle a text and let her know I’d be leaving the office in about an hour to show properties. She responded immediately. “At Urgent Care over by the outlet mall. Woke up this morning with my left eye swollen shut. Not sure what’s going on.” Her next text was a photo, and I would have sworn Belle had lost a bar fight.
“Hate to see what the other guy looks like.”
“I know, it’s horrible,” she responded. “And I’m planning to take Matthew to the bridge this weekend for some photos, so it better be fixed by then.”
I told her to let me know what they said ASAP, and we made plans to get together this evening to work on that trunk one more time. Though I did tell her if she was contagious, I wasn’t coming.
I turned on the Echo Dot and set up our office iPod to play 80s country, my current favorite mix, and upped the volume. I needed to drown out the voices in my head urging me to focus on Jenny Rawlings and not my business.
I flipped on my computer and signed into the MLS program to review the homes I’d planned to show my client. A new townhome went on the market in the mixed-use development on the old Redbecker property and popped up on the screen. Bramblett County Realty was the only realtor in town, and the property company that sold the homes was long gone—something I was happy about—so they hadn’t listed it. It was listed through a boutique agency that lists homes at reduced fees and has the homeowner do everything from marketing to negotiations. All the realtor does is provide the MLS listing and the contract. They make a quick buck, and the home gets more eyes on it through MLS. It wasn’t something my client would like, so I skipped by it. I felt good about that, too. I hated boutique services like that, they were a competition that was hard to beat in cost, and lately people cared more about that than the quality of service. Belle and I built our business based on relationships and trust, not money.
I added one more property to show and printed out the details on all of them. The printer beeped to notify me it was out of paper, and there wasn’t any in the cabinet where we kept some reserves, so I headed into the back storage room next to the bathroom for a few reams.
I could carry seven reams at once as long as I stacked them one on top of the other and kept my head angled to the side while I walked. They weren’t light, and I could have made two trips, but I was lazy. I dropped them onto the printer cabinet and crouched down to open the bottom door and stuff them in when I heard the main door to the office open.
“Hey, I’ll be right with you.” I put the last of the reams into the cabinet and closed the door. As I stood, I felt the warmth of a body close to mine. I stiffened and turned around slowly.
Dylan’s bright white teeth sparkled down at me. “God bless.” I pushed him in the chest, and he tipped backwards, catching himself before falling. “Dylan Roberts, do not do that to me again, you hear? You about scared me to death.”
He laughed. “Thank God you don’t carry. I could have lost some vital organs just now if you did.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed past him. “What’re you doing here anyway? I’m printing out some papers and heading to meet a client. I only have a few minutes.”
He handed me a long flat metal stick. “For Belle.”
I eyed the stick. “Should I ask?”
“Matthew said she wants to open some old trunk, and I figured I’d drop this by. Where is she? He said she’d be in the office today.”
“She’s at the doctor. Got in a bar fight last night and can’t open her eye now.”
“If Belle got in a bar fight, I doubt she’d be the one at the doctor.”
I laughed. He was right. Belle was a toughie. “It’s probably an allergy or pink eye or something. Anyway, we’re meeting at her place this evening, so I’ll bring it by.” I kissed his cheek. “Now, scoot. I have to get this printed out and get a move on or I’ll be late.”
“If you need help, let us know. Couple guys are coming in from the city, and we’re playing cards at his place tonight.”
I twisted and flipped the metal thing in my hand. “What is this anyway?”
“It’s a lock picker.”
I raised my eyebrow. “I feel like that’s not its true job.”
He smirked. “It’s not. I don’t actually know what its true job is, but it’s a mighty fine lock picker.” The side of his mouth twitched.
I gathered the printed papers and put them in my bag along with my laptop. I did a quick check through my desk and on the conference table hoping I’d find Jenny Rawlings’ diary, but it wasn’t there. “That’s so odd.”
“What?”
“I thought I’d left Jenny’s diary here, but it’s nowhere.”
“I’m sure it’ll turn up, but at least you have the photos of it, right?” He kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll walk you out.”
Chapter 10
My client loved two of the properties I showed, one being the one I’d added at the last minute. She decided to take the night to think it through and would call me in the morning with a decision. Usually, I’d press my clients a bit to encourage a quicker timeframe, but I had a feeling she’d choose the first one we went to, and it had been on the market long enough that I wasn’t worried someone would make an offer before her.
Belle called as I drove back to the day care to get Bo.
“You okay?” I asked.
“As long as you don’t touch my eye, you’ll be fine. It was a sty.”
“Really? And your eye looked like that?”
She laughed. “I know, right? Doctor said it was almost abscessed, and I was lucky to come in when I did. She squeezed it, and you would not believe what—”
“I don’t really need any details, but thanks.” I filled her in on the client, and she said she’d grab dinner and meet me at her place in a bit. “Where are you?”
“I uh…I made a stop at the outlet mall, and time just flew by. But, I have some great new outfits to show you.”
I laughed. “See you in a bit.”
I picked up Bo and headed straight to Belle’s. She wasn’t there yet, but I removed the spare key from under the rock by her back door and let myself in. Bo did a quick sniff tour as I prepared his dinner. Belle kept food at her house because, as she said, that’s what a good dog aunt did. I appreciated that.
I fed Bo and decided to go ahead and work on the lock. If I could get it, I’d be thrilled, but I wasn’t betting on it. I jabbed the unknown tool from Dylan into the lock and jiggled it back and forth, but nothing happened. I removed it, flipped it upside down, and repeated the action.
When the lock clicked, I squealed.
Bo came running.
“Look buddy, I got it.”
He sniffed the lock and then huffed as he wandered away. He didn’t think my lock picking skills were as amazing as I did.
I wanted to open the trunk and take a peek, but I knew Belle would pitch a fit if I did, so I took Bo outside and waited for her. A few minutes later she pulled up with a white bag filled to the top.
“I got it.”
“Got what?” she asked.
“The lock. I got it open.”
She handed me the bag. “Did you open it?”
“Are you kidding me? I don’t want my eye to end up looking like yours.” I squinted and focused on hers. “And wow, that’s pretty nasty.”
“You’re funny. Let’s go. I want to see what’s in that thing. It’s been driving me crazy.”
Bo won our unofficial race to the door. I tossed the food on her kitchen table, and the two of us slid to the ground next to the old trunk like a baseball player coming in from third base.
“Ouch,” she said. “Rug burn.”
I laughed. “Open it. Maybe it’s gold.”
“I doubt that. It doesn’t make a clunky sound like gold should when I move it.”
“That’s too bad.”
She lifted the trunk lid a bit and peeked in. “What’s this?” Sh
e opened it completely and I caught a glimpse of what was inside.
Belle moved to pick up the first item, and I stopped her. “Wait. Don’t touch it.”
“What? Why not?”
Inside the trunk was a small shovel, a t-shirt, and a pair of cut off jean shorts. I grabbed a magazine from her coffee table and ripped out a page. I used that to lift the broken shovel from the trunk. I pointed to the dried blood on the shovel. “Because I think this is what killed Jennifer Rawlings.”
Belle’s eyes popped open. She glanced into the trunk, then ripped a page from the magazine and grabbed the t-shirt. “Look, it’s stained. That’s got to be blood.”
I examined it closely. “I think we need to call Dylan.”
We put everything back in the trunk the way we’d found it and put the magazine pages on top.
Forty minutes later Dylan and Matthew arrived with a deputy in uniform.
“What took you so long?” Belle asked.
“They probably waited for the hand to end before they came,” I said.
Dylan smiled. “Maybe.”
I shook my head.
Matthew stared at her eye. “Dear God woman, you lose a fight?”
She punched him on the arm. “Honey, if I ever got into a fight, I sure wouldn’t lose.”
He laughed. “I don’t doubt that.”
We opened the trunk and showed them what was inside.
Dylan slipped on a pair of plastic gloves and removed the shovel first. “Looks like dried blood to me.” He removed the rest of the items and sighed. “I’m guessing that’s blood on the shirt, too.”
Belle examined the clothes with her good eye as Dylan held them up. “Do you think it belongs to Jennifer Rawlings?”
I said no. “She was hit in the back side of the head. These belong to the killer.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” he said. He handed the clothing to the deputy. “Put these in an evidence bag, please.”
The deputy also had on gloves and did as he was told.
“Of course we know, the spray of the blood is on the front of the shirt. Jenny was hit in the back of the head, and besides, she had on clothes when they found her. These are definitely the killer’s,” I said.
“We’re going to need to take the trunk,” Matthew said.
“I figured.”
Matthew crouched down and gave the trunk a complete examination. “Do you know where it was at the Covington’s?”
“I think Clara said it had been in the barn for a while before I bought it from her.”
“It makes sense now,” I said. “That’s where Jenny was killed.”
“Why do you think that?” Dylan asked.
“Jenny was primarily responsible for cleaning up the barn, so the cleaning stuff would be out there, right?”
“And?”
“And Clara said Jenny had just cleaned the barn, so it probably wouldn’t be hard to clean up after killing her. And no one was home that morning, so whoever did it would have the time to clean up.” I stared at the trunk. “It had to be Amy. A guy wouldn’t clean that well, and I just don’t trust her.”
Dylan rubbed his chin. “We could question her.”
“You’d reopen the case?”
“Technically cold cases aren’t actually closed,” Matthew said.
“They’re just not being actively investigated,” Dylan said.
“Well, this one has been,” Belle said. “And I think your investigator might be onto something.”
The two men nodded, and then Dylan said, “Can you get me her contact information? I’ll take a trip to her place in the morning.” He glanced at me. “Alone.”
I sighed.
I stayed at Belle’s for another hour or so and then dragged Bo home. I had to shake him awake on Belle’s bed. He snored so loudly she videotaped him for a good two minutes before I could.
“I can’t believe it.” She laughed. “He sounds so human.”
“You have no idea,” I said.
At home Bo did his business outside and then hopped straight into my bed and hit slumber within seconds. I wished I could sleep half as well as that darn dog. I tidied up the kitchen a bit and then sat on the couch to decompress before heading to bed.
I thought about the events of the last few days and what I’d learned. A part of me felt bad for Amy Stapleton. I didn’t want her to be the killer, but a bigger part thought she’d gotten away with murder for far too long, and her time had come. The problem was, the more I thought about it, the more I doubted myself and her guilt. The part that stumped me the most was the why. Why would Amy kill Jenny? What exactly was her motive? Jealousy? Maybe frustration? I closed my eyes and tried to let it all wash away, tried to relax enough to be able to go to bed and sleep. I did fall asleep, but on the couch.
* * *
Bright lights flashed through my window, but when I opened my eyes, the light was gone. I allowed them a moment to adjust to the darkness, and that’s when I saw someone dart by my front window. I quickly hopped off the couch and flipped on the light on the end table. Bo hadn’t budged from my bedroom, so he mustn’t have heard anything. I hoped it was just my imagination.
Only, it wasn’t.
The figure ran past the window again, that time from the opposite direction. The next thing I knew, the handle on my front door jiggled. It was locked, but I hadn’t turned on my alarm.
Whoever was there knocked on the door. No one ever came to my front door, so I knew it wasn’t someone I’d want to see. “Who is it?” I asked.
“Lily Sprayberry? Is that you?”
“Who’s there?”
“Lily, it’s Allison Rooting. I…I need to talk to you. I think my husband killed Jenny. Please. Let me in.”
I gently turned the deadbolt on the door and opened it. It was Allison, and she was a mess. Her hair had half fallen out of a ponytail, and she was in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Definitely not the kind of look I’d pick for her.
She saw me and sighed. “Oh, thank God. Please, may I come in?”
I held the door open for her. Bo had already come charging out of the bedroom barking up a storm, and I hushed him. “Go to bed, Bo.”
He didn’t listen but at least he stopped barking
Allison Rooting stepped into my home and drug her fingers down her cheek. “Thank you, Lily. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“How did you get my address?”
She blinked. “Oh, the internet, of course.”
I nodded.
She sat on my couch. “It’s just terrible. I didn’t know what to do, so I came straight here.” She rubbed the key on her necklace.
The missing trunk key. Why hadn’t I realized that earlier. “That’s a beautiful necklace.”
She smiled. “I was wondering when you’d notice.”
My entire body stiffened. “It’s to the trunk, isn’t it?”
She laughed. “If I didn’t have to kill you, I’d hire you as my realtor someday. You’re a very smart young woman, Ms. Sprayberry.”
I pictured the t-shirt and cut off shorts in the trunk. Amy Stapleton said she was overweight in high school. Those clothes were tiny. She was A, not Amy. Allison was A. Why hadn’t I made the connection earlier?
I glanced at my coffee table, but my phone wasn’t there. I must have thrown it in my bag. It had to be in the kitchen. “You’re A.”
“Of course I am. I’m surprised you didn’t figure that out right away with all that investigating you’ve done.”
“I got the trunk open you know, and the police have it now. They know it’s your clothing.”
She stood and laughed as she positioned herself in front of the coffee table. “Oh honey, if they knew, they would have been to the house already now, wouldn’t they?” She had an opened satchel hanging off her shoulder and removed something from it. A gun. “It’s too bad really. I’d thought the whole mess was over and done with, and then you showed your little face, and I read Jenny’s diary, and I r
ealized I’d have to kill you, too.”
“You took her diary, didn’t you? You were in the Hummer.” I glanced out the window, but I couldn’t see a car in the driveway.
She laughed. “You and your friend really shouldn’t leave the office unlocked, even if you’re just out for a minute.” She wiggled the gun at me. “But you are a smart one, that’s for sure. Eric’s client is the owner of the dealership in Marietta. Got us an incredible deal on two. We’re even considering getting our daughter one.”
“Why did you kill her?”
“Because she had to die, that’s why.” She stared off toward the window for a moment, but not long enough for me to make a move. “Eric was mine. I deserved him, and I was close to winning him over until she shoved her little petite nose into the mix. I had to remove her, and the only way I could make sure she wouldn’t threaten my future with the love of my life was to take her out.”
Bo snarled at her.
“Bo, come.”
He didn’t budge.
“Bo, come.” He glanced back at me and then at Allison until he finally came and stood by my side.
She eyed Bo. “How about we put it in the bedroom?”
“It is a boy, and if we do that, he’ll—yes, that’s a good idea.”
She flicked her gun at me. “Go.”
I moved toward my bedroom with Bo by my side. I gave Bo the hand signal for up, and he jumped onto the bed. I stood next to it, waiting.
Allison stepped into my room. “Just what I’d expect from a girl like you.”
“What does that mean?”
She walked into the room. “It’s just so young, so uninformed looking.”
I didn’t have a clue what that meant, but I wanted to keep her talking. “I think it’s lovely. What would you suggest I change?”
She laughed. “Honey, nice try.” She waved the gun at me. “That’s not going to work on me though.”
“Jenny confronted you, didn’t she? She said she was going to in the diary.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t plan on giving her the chance. When we got up that morning, I saw her diary and read the last few entries while she was in the shower. Of course, I didn’t let on that I knew she knew. I waited. Maybe I wanted to see what she’d say. I don’t really recall now. I suggested we go to the barn and start getting the eggs early, and I acted like nothing was wrong. We saw that crazy old man from next door, and I laughed when Clara chased him away with the gun. It caught me off guard, and that’s when Jenny told me she knew. She said she’d known for months. Called me all kinds of names. As if I was the one that had done something wrong.”
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