4 Arch Enemy of Murder (3 page)

At first when Joe had started showing up in the mornings, Lacy had tried to talk to him. The silence made her edgy, and she tried to fill it. Now she found it comfortable. Joe was a people person who had lost the ability to relate after so many years in prison. Lacy was an outwardly friendly person who was secretly shy. Together, they made the perfect combination.

She sat and scanned some paperwork, enjoying the quiet. During the week, she shared the second floor with doctors, dentists, a chiropractor and a music instructor. Between their clients and ringing phones, there wasn’t much chance for peace. Lacy liked the routine of Monday through Friday, but Saturdays had become a reprieve from the chaos. Soon that would end, too, but she couldn’t feel bad about it because it meant the realization of her dream.

Since she bought the Stakely building, she had wanted to return the first two floors to a useable marketplace. The renovations were almost complete, the spaces half-filled with prospective tenants. One of those tenants knocked on her door and entered without being invited.

Michael, a guitar maker and fellow redhead, plopped down into the chair across from her desk. “How’s it going, boss?”

Lacy fought the urge to remind him that she was in no way his boss. He liked to annoy her; he did it well. “Well. What can I do for you, Michael?”

He struck an affronted expression. “I have to have a reason to come see you? I can’t just stop in to chat?”

Lacy rested her chin in her hand and waited him out.

He sat back, deflated. “Fine. I want to know if we’re still on schedule. Things are taking longer than I thought, and money is getting tight.”

She fought another wave of annoyance. She had given him a prospective opening date, and they were still within range. If things were getting tight, it was due to his own poor planning. He didn’t have to move to town so soon before he could open his store. Again she refrained from telling all this to him, though. Perhaps it was because they both had red hair, but for some reason, she and Michael didn’t communicate well. “The opening is still on schedule,” she said instead. “My grandfather is making sure of it.” She had never seen contractors work faster. She had no idea what he did to terrify them into submission, but he had definitely missed his calling as a construction tycoon.

Michael grinned at her. “Or maybe it’s because they can’t stand to disappoint a beautiful woman.”

Lacy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Michael was seemingly one of those men who couldn’t stand it if every woman in his presence didn’t bow to his good looks. She glanced at Joe. “Is he flirting with me, Joe?”

“I think so, Lacy,” Joe said.

Michael twisted to look at him with a frown. “You don’t have to take her side just because she’s the boss, Joe.”

Joe smiled and took another sip of his coffee. Michael turned back to Lacy. “I’m only half joking. I’ve seen the way some of those men look at you when you and your grandfather aren’t watching. Careful there, love.”

He was gone before Lacy could fathom a reply. He was serious. She knew because his accent showed up, lilting his words so the ominous warning sounded almost cheerful. “That was weird,” she said. The last few weeks, she had added the habit of addressing her internal monologue to Joe. He tipped his head and took another sip of coffee. She smiled. “You’re a good sounding board, Joe.”

Lacy tried to return to her work, but another distraction arrived in the form of her sister. Riley let herself in without knocking and plopped in the same chair Michael had vacated.

“So this is your office,” Riley said. Somehow in those few words, Lacy knew the gig was up. Riley had learned her secret. Just in case, she decided not to give anything away.

“This is my office,” she agreed.

“It’s ugly. You should let me redecorate.”

“It suits my needs,” Lacy said.

Riley narrowed her eyes as if trying to figure out what those needs might be. “I know you bought this building,” Riley said. She flung the words between them like a challenge. “I went to the courthouse and looked up the deed.”

Lacy was impressed with her detective skills, but she didn’t say so. She sometimes fell for her sister’s airhead act, usually to her detriment. Riley was smart, smarter than Lacy. If she had applied her intelligence to school instead of making herself popular, she could have done anything. As it was, she had skated by with a low B average but had innumerable friends and boyfriends. “I own this building,” Lacy said.

“Why?” Riley practically yelled. “I mean, come on, Lacy. You came into some money. I still haven’t worked out that part of things. But it must have been a lot, and you used it to buy
the Stakely building.
You could have bought an apartment in New York. You could have gone to Paris. And you stayed here and bought this.” She flung out her hands, encompassing the drab gray walls with her disdain. “What is wrong with you? I don’t understand you at all.” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest.

Lacy wondered if the real problem was that Lacy had come into money and hadn’t shared it with her. Would Riley have approved of anything that didn’t involve her getting ahead or getting her own way? Doubtful. “They were going to tear it down,” Lacy said.

“So? Good riddance. It’s old and falling apart.”

“It’s not falling apart anymore, and it’s beautiful. This building is the anchor of the entire downtown. If it goes, then the town goes.”

“This town is already gone,” Riley said.

“It’s coming back,” Lacy stubbornly insisted. She slid out from behind her chair. “Come with me, I’m going to give you the grand tour and show you what I have planned.” She looked for Joe to see if he intended to follow, but he was gone. He sometimes disappeared so that she found herself talking to him when he wasn’t really there. Sometimes she felt like he was her imaginary friend.

She led Riley down to the main floor and began showing her the renovations, filling in the blanks for the work that hadn’t been completed yet. Riley didn’t comment. She remained uncharacteristically quiet as if she was actually listening, thinking, and trying to picture Lacy’s vision. Lacy was heartened by this first display of sisterly interest. Then Riley spoke and ruined the illusion.

“It’s opening in a couple of weeks, right?”

“Two weeks from today,” Lacy said.

“You know what that means. You have to throw a party. And you need a party planner.” She turned her back on Lacy and surveyed the room again. “We’ll need to rent chairs, decorations, a DJ. I’ll give you the family discount for my fee; that’s ten percent off.” She took off in the direction of the entrance.

Now Lacy was the one trotting to keep up with her. “Hold up, I’m not having a party.”

“You’re opening a huge new venture. You have to have a party.”

“No, I don’t. People will come here because they care about the community and because they want what we have to offer. I don’t need to blow ten grand on a party for that to happen.”

“I could probably squeak in under eight,” Riley said.

Lacy had thrown out a random number. Riley sounded serious. “Eight thousand dollars for a party?” she yelled, the sound of her voice echoing in the cavernous space.

“That’s a bargain,” Riley said. “Believe me. I once put together a party in Manhattan that cost three hundred thousand dollars.”

“I am not spending eight thousand dollars on a party that I don’t even want.”

Riley stopped short and faced her. “How much are you willing to spend?”

Lacy almost answered before realizing she was about to fall for a trick question. She knew her sister. If she named a workable budget, then Riley would take it as a contract. “Nothing.”

Riley tipped her head and quirked her eyebrow. “Nothing?
 
You want me to make toilet paper streamers and set out a punch bowl like prom? Because that’s beyond tacky, Lacy.”

“No, I don’t want you to do a party. No party. Do you hear me, Riley? We are not having a party.”

“You,” Riley yelled, pointing over Lacy’s shoulder. “Come here.”

Maybe it was wishful thinking that made Lacy think Riley was talking to Joe. Her hope was shattered when Michael joined them and draped his arm comfortably over Lacy’s shoulders. She elbowed him in the ribs and he removed it.

“Yes,” he said. “How can I be of service?”

“Don’t you think we need to have a megawatt party to celebrate the grand opening of this place?” Riley asked, putting forth her most coquettish smile.

“What does the boss think about it?” Michael asked. He tipped his head to indicate Lacy.

“She doesn’t want it,” Riley said.

“Then I’m all for it,” Michael said. “If you want a live band, I know some guys.”

“Something classy, no punk music,” Riley said.

“They can play whatever you want,” Michael said. “I’ll give them a call and set it up.” He reached for his phone. Lacy made a dash for it, and he held it over his head out of her grasp.

“No, no bands, no party. Is anyone listening to me?”

“Does anyone ever?” Riley asked. She and Michael walked off together. Michael draped his arm over her shoulders, and she didn’t remove it.

“I don’t want a party,” she muttered. She stamped her foot in frustration and instantly regretted it when pain radiated from her foot to her hip and back again, a cruel reminder of her pre-work workout. She remained standing on one foot for a few minutes until she realized that Riley and Michael weren’t coming back. Upstairs, more work waited on her, but her foot was killing her and she lacked the perseverance to climb back up the stairs. Her attention had been blown by Riley anyway; she might as well call it a day.

The walk home was slow because her re-injured foot tended to drag behind. She tried not to think about how she looked in her black pencil skirt, button-down shirt, and prim ballet flats that couldn’t keep pace with the rest of her body. Something buzzed around her head and she dodged away. The action sent pain spiraling through both feet. The bug was undaunted and began dive bombing Lacy’s hair. She increased her pace; so did the bug. Realizing she wasn’t going to be able to outrun it, she stood still and began furiously waving it away with both arms.

She was so focused on the bug and her foot that it took her a full minute to realize she was being followed. When she stopped, so did the person who was following her.

Michael’s warning about the construction workers rang in her ears as a black SUV slowly idled up beside her and opened its door. She debated making a run for it, but knew she would only get a few steps. The good news was that she was in a residential neighborhood. Surely someone would hear her if she screamed. Wouldn’t they?

The passenger door opened, and Lacy took a deep breath, preparing to scream her lungs out. “Get in,” the driver commanded just as the menacing bug exacted its vengeance and stung her arm.
 
Her breath released in a yelp as she did as instructed and hopped in the car.

“Why did it look like you were fighting an invisible ninja?”

Jason sat behind the wheel, dressed for work in his new capacity of detective. He was wearing the tie Lacy had bought him as a congratulatory present for his raise. To her knowledge, it was the only tie he owned.

“There was a bug, and it stung me.” Tears sprang to her eyes and lingered. Whatever it was hurt.

“What kind of bug was it?” he asked.

“A mean one,” she said.

“Let me see,” he commanded. She passed him her arm. He squinted and turned it toward the light to make his inspection. “It was a bee.”

“Wow, those entomology correspondence courses are really paying off,” Lacy said.

“Hold still,” he commanded. He let go her arm and dug in his pocket for his wallet. “The stinger is still in there. If we’re lucky, I’ll be able to remove the venom sac intact.” He used a credit card to gently scrape along her skin. She watched in fascination as the stinger snagged on the card and pulled free of her arm.

“Is that a cop trick?” she asked.

“No, it’s a big brother trick. I did this for my brother once, only the venom sac broke, and he had to go to the hospital because he was allergic. You’re not allergic, are you?”