Advance Notice (11 page)

Chapter Twenty

After a sermon about trusting in the Lord and
not leaning on my own understanding, and how submitting to Him would make my
paths straight, I stood on the church steps and searched for Bruce. I’d tell
him everything I knew, then step back and trust the authorities to handle
things the way God wanted.

“Who are you looking for?” Lindsey bumped
me with her hip. “Uncle Duane’s inside.”

“Bruce.”

“Why?” Lindsey wrinkled her nose. “I’m
surprised he hasn’t tried to arrest one of us lately. Every time something goes
wrong in this town, he blames it on us.”

“He’s actually not being too bad this
time around.” I rose up on my toes. Not only did I want to tell him about my
new suspicions, but I wanted to know why he hadn’t questioned the newspaper
about the early obits. My shoulders slumped.

Who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to be
able to let this go.

Lindsey growled and flounced away. Well,
gosh, I knew she didn’t like Bruce much, but I didn’t think she needed to be so
dramatic… Oh. Bobby strolled by with his arm around Amber’s shoulders. He
watched Lindsey storm past, then let his arm fall.

I would guess things weren’t exactly the
way Lindsey thought they were. Once we got home, I’d suggest her and Bobby have
a serious conversation. Either they liked each other or they didn’t. If they
thought things were complicated during high school, wait until they became
adults.

“Bruce, wait up.” I leaped off the step,
grunted as my ankle turned, then limped/hopped my way to his side.
Ow
, that hurt. Bad. “I have some information for you.”

“Can’t a man take a day off?”

“When there’s a murder to be solved?”
Seriously? In a small town like River Valley, the one remaining officer who hadn’t
left for greener pastures needed to work twenty-four/seven. “Are they going to
hire you some help?”

“I got another officer showing up
tomorrow.” He crossed his arms. “What do you want? I’m starving, and I want to
grab a burger from Wanda’s before the crowd hits.”

“I’ll join you.” I fished my phone out of
my purse and texted Duane where I’d be. “You’re driving, right?”

Bruce groaned and headed for a raised black
SUV. Why did men of short statures drive such big vehicles?

Grabbing a hold of the door frame, I
hoisted my short self onto the passenger seat. My ankle would hate me when I
jumped out of the monster truck. The ground looked a mile down.

Bruce turned the key in the ignition. “I
don’t know why we couldn’t just meet at the diner.”

I pulled a hand full of papers and
assorted food wrappers from under me and started a new pile on the floor behind
us. “Why? You’re right here. Are you afraid I’m going to highjack your truck?”

“I never know what you’re going to do.
You should wear a warning sign around your neck.” He pulled onto the highway
that ran through the middle of town.

“You really should have tried your hand at
standup comedy, because you are a riot.” I glared out the window. Here I was
trying to help him and all he could do was insult me. “Police work is really a
waste of your—” I caught a glimpse of Amber ducking behind a building.
Seconds later, Darla followed her. “Pull over.”

“Nope. Hungry, remember?”

“But something seems fishy.” What if
Darla intended to do Amber harm and we did nothing? “Seriously, Bruce, we need
to stop.”

“Give me one good reason.”

“I’m going to throw up.”

He swerved so fast, my seatbelt locked
into place and cut into my neck. God, forgive me for the white lie. As soon as
we stopped, I thrust open my door and slid out, letting my uninjured foot take
the brunt of my weight. “Come on, Bruce.”

“I thought you were sick.” He slammed his
door.

“No, I lied. Sorry. But, I think someone
is in danger.”

“Do I need my gun?” He stopped and
half-turned back to the truck.

“No time!” I grabbed his arm and dragged
him along after me. I careened around the corner I’d seen Amber and Darla take
and skidded to a halt.

Bruce crashed into me. “What are we
doing?”

“I saw Darla following Amber in a
suspicious manner.”

Shaking his head, he sighed and turned
away. “I’m going to eat.” He stormed back to his vehicle, me hobbling along
after him.

“You’ll understand more when I tell you
what I know.”

“Save it for lunch. I can’t listen to you
on an empty stomach.”

Sometimes he was so dense. If something
happened to Amber, I’d never let him forget about putting his stomach first.
Grumbling under my breath, I climbed back into the truck and kept my mouth shut
until we got to Wanda’s.

Bruce seemed happy with my silence as he
climbed from behind the wheel and rushed into the diner without waiting for me.
If his mother were still alive, I’d be talking to her about her son’s lack of
gentlemanly manners.

By this time, my ankle throbbed and was
turning beautiful shades of blue and purple. Hunger gnawed at my belly. I
gritted my teeth and limped after my reluctant lunch date.

The din of Wanda’s on a Sunday afternoon
rivaled a closely scored football game held inside a concrete building. Voices
practically shouted in order to be heard across tables. Wanda squeezed between
crowded tables.

Bruce whirled with a frown on his face.
“Look how crowded they are. It’ll take an hour to get a table.”

“There’re two stools at the lunch
counter.” I gave him a shove. “Go! And don’t forget to save me a seat. I still
need to talk to you.”

Bruce sprinted for the
stools, almost running over Wanda. She shrieked and whirled. He ducked one way,
then
dodged another. She spun in a circle. The platter
holding glasses of tea and soda flew into the air and shattered to the floor.
“Bruce Barnett!” Wanda picked up the platter and whacked him on the head.

“That’s assaulting a
police officer!” Bruce rubbed the top of his head.

“You’re not in uniform.”
She looked as if she’d hit him again, but instead, stomped back to the kitchen.
Seconds later, Bobby came out with a broom and dustpan.

When had Wanda hired
him? I skirted around the mess of drinks and glass and perched on the stool
beside Bruce. “You really must be starving.”

“I ought to arrest her.”

I rolled my eyes. “You
shouldn’t have raced across the diner like a little kid.” Grabbing my menu, I
hid behind it and grinned, wishing I would’ve had time to grab my phone and
record the crazy dance between Bruce and Wanda. “Are you ready to listen to me,
now?”

“Yes.” He told the girl
behind the counter he wanted a cheeseburger with everything, fries, and a coke.

I ordered a BLT and
filled Bruce in on what Mom had told me the night before. He sat quietly while
I talked, rubbing his finger across his little Hitler moustache. The gesture
freaked me out. What was he trying to prove? Bruce couldn’t look tough if the
world would end unless he did. By the time I’d finished telling him everything
I could think of, our food had arrived and Bruce dug into his without speaking.

“Well?” I cut my
sandwich in half. “Don’t you think all three of them have a motive?”

“To kill each other,
maybe.” He dumped an obscene amount of ketchup on his plate. “But how does this
info pertain to our deceased old ladies?”

Hmmm. It didn’t, when he
put it that way. But I knew it all tied together somehow. It had to. Darn
Barney, uh, Bruce, for bursting my bubble. Now, I was back to square one. At
least in the aspect of Bruce not listening to my concerns and taking me
seriously.

“Do you have any other
suspects?” I asked.

“No, and no one else has
died.” He bit into his hamburger, ketchup squeezing out between the patties and
landing on his plate with a plop.

“Dottie has a week,
Bruce. One week for us to find her killer.” I tossed my sandwich on my plate,
appetite gone. The woman was cantankerous, man-hungry, opinionated, and her
cologne shriveled every living plant she passed, but the world wouldn’t be the
same without her.

Forcing myself back to
eating, I cut a sideways glance at Bruce. “What are you thinking about? You
look like you’re in another world.”

“Just piecing together
what you’ve told me. Maybe I’ll have the new guy run background checks on
everyone when he arrives tomorrow.”

“So, you do believe me?”

“I didn’t say that. Just
that I’ll have him check into things.” He tossed his napkin on his empty plate.
“Can you find your way home, or do I have to give you a ride?”

Spotting Duane through
the plate glass window, I shook my head. “I’ve got a ride, thanks.” I grinned
and waved my sweetie over as he entered the diner and Bruce left.

“My dining companion
just improved a hundred times over.” I raised my face for a kiss.

Duane chuckled. “I have
to admit, your text surprised me. You and Bruce tend to rub each other the
wrong way. How’d he take to your information?”

“Not good at first, but
then he agreed to look into it.” I glanced at the clock hanging on the opposite
wall. One o’clock. Mom and Leroy must’ve decided not to do their usual Sunday
lunch.

The bell over the door
jingled, and Darla and her boyfriend waltzed in and over to an empty booth not
far from us, without waiting for the hostess to seat them. Some people thought
they owned the world.

“I am not in the mood.”
Wanda grabbed a couple of menus and marched over to the newcomers.

I met Duane’s amused
gaze and shrugged. Today had definitely been entertaining. “I took your advice,
prayed about today’s sermon, and decided to let Bruce handle everything.” I
hoped he’d handle it before Dottie met her maker.

“I’m proud of you.”
Duane caressed my cheek,
then
tucked a loose strand of
hair behind my ear. “Anything else you’ve been praying—”

“We’re out of pie,
Darla. We run out very quickly after church.” High spots of color appeared on
Wanda’s cheeks.

“Then you should plan
for such a shortage.” Darla tossed her menu on the table. “I guess I’ll have
the rhubarb.”

“We’re out. All we have
is a few slices of lemon meringue or pecan.”

I glanced around the
diner, noticing for the first time how low on help she was that day. Where was
everyone? I hadn’t waited tables since high school, but unless we wanted to
witness Wanda losing her temper, I thought I’d better volunteer. “I’m going to
go help. Love you.” I planted a peck on Duane’s cheek and grabbed a handful of
menus before rushing to greet a family of five coming in the front door.

My greeting lacked
grace, considering my ankle still throbbed and was growing more painful. Since
I had yet to see how swollen it was, I had no idea whether a visit to Urgent
Care was in the future. “Welcome to Wanda’s. Follow me, please.”

“Why are you limping?”
Duane asked as I moved past him for glasses of water.

“I fell off the church
steps and twisted my ankle.”

He shook his head and
stood. After guiding me back to my stool, he grabbed a tray with five glasses
and a pitcher of ice water. “Sit. I’ll do this. Watch and see what a man can
do.” He winked and strolled away, leaving my heart doing somersaults.

Wanda got teary eyed
when she spotted her new handsome waiter and patted his cheek. “God bless you,
Duane Steele. Everyone’s out with the flu today, and I’m about to have a heart
attack.”

“We don’t want our
prettiest business owner keeling over on us, now do we?” He flashed her a
dimpled grin, gave another wink at me, and went to soothe Darla’s ruffled
feathers.

I could sit and watch
him move all day. Except for the fact my ankle was killing me. Once Duane
finished, we’d definitely be heading to the emergency room.

Two hours later, I
played a game on my cell phone and waited for Duane to help Wanda with the last
of the afternoon rush. I’d already taken my daily allotment of ibuprofen and my
stomach hurt. Not to mention the fact I needed to use the restroom after three
large iced teas.

Just when I’d decided to
brave the pain and make my way to the restroom, Bruce’s SUV sped by, siren
wailing, with a magnetic flashing light sitting on top.

Chapter Twenty-One

With one glance at
Duane, who obviously could read my mind by now because he handed the menus to
Wanda, I hobbled for the door. “Marsha. Marsha!” I ignored his calls and banged
the door open. Yep, Bruce’s car headed in the direction I’d seen Amber
disappear hours ago.

“Come on.” Biting back
the pain in my ankle, I hurried to Duane’s truck.

Duane caught up with me,
tossed me in his truck,
then
dashed to the driver’s
side. “Do we know where we’re going?”

“I’m pretty sure. Drive
toward the hardware store.” Of course, I could be wrong. Bruce could simply be
on his way to a car accident, but instinct told me otherwise. “We have
company.” I pointed behind us to where other diner customers, Darla and her
friend included, jumped into vehicles.

“That’s small town life
for you.” Duane thrust the truck into drive and sped off. “Not enough
excitement, so folks chase cops.”

I giggled. My life had
plenty of excitement, especially since the sleep walking debacle last year.

“We’ll go see what’s
going on, but then I’m taking you to have a doctor look at your ankle.” Duane
glanced at my leg. “It’s a lovely shade of eggplant.”

That wasn’t a good thing
to hear. I loved that particular color, but not on any of my body parts.
“Agreed.”

Less than five minutes
later, we pulled across the street from an ambulance. Two EMTs wheeled a gurney,
burdened by a body bag, from around the corner. Bruce trotted beside them,
scribbling on his ever present pad of paper. “Can you go see who’s on the
gurney, please?” My gut told me the answer, but I prayed I was wrong.

Duane sighed and opened
his door. “I guess Bruce will yell less if it’s me.”

Very
true.
Duane still had a ways to go before Bruce lost his patience with him. Plus,
Duane towered over the officer by a head, and his muscles alone were as big as
Bruce’s legs. Maybe intimidation played a factor in how he related to my fiancé.

I rolled down my window
in case a few words drifted my way and leaned out as far as I deemed safe. The
doorframe dug into my stomach, but I still couldn’t hear a thing. The pain from
my foot was starting to make me nauseous, so going for information myself was
out of the question.

Settling back on my
seat, I texted Duane. “Well?” Then watched him through the window.

He frowned and shook his
head. Maybe I’d jumped the gun, but my nerves were strung tighter than a guitar
string, and I really thought I might lose my lunch from pain.

My cell phone sang out a
jaunty tune about a text message arriving. It was Duane. “The body is Amber’s.”

My heart sank. I hung my
head out of the window and threw up. Poor Amber.
And her with
a baby on the way.
Once I had control of myself again, I texted Duane to
send Bruce over.

“He said he’s busy.”

“He needs to listen to
me,” I replied.

“He said he’ll get your
statement later.
Maybe at the hospital.
I’m coming
now.”

Ugh. Waiting was the
hardest thing ever. I watched plenty of crime shows on television. I knew the
first forty-eight hours were the most important, and the killer was walking
past Duane’s truck at the moment. I would bet my favorite pair of overalls that
Darla Quincy killed Amber so her son’s name wouldn’t be sullied.

“Ready?” Duane slid back
behind the wheel. “You okay?”

“I got sick.”

“I saw that.” He brushed
back my hair. “Pain pretty bad?”

“Horrible,” I whispered,
using the back of my hand to wipe perspiration from my upper lip.

He frowned and sped
toward the hospital twelve miles away. Every bump in the road sent waves of
pain up my leg. What a dunce. Instead of interrogating Bruce at the diner, I
should’ve had him take me to the ER. But, the pain had increased over time. At
first, it’d been hardly noticeable, but hobbling around hadn’t helped.

Being a natural klutz,
spraining an ankle or getting bruises and not remembering how I got them was a
regular occurrence. Surely, nothing was broken.

###

           
The
doctor clipped the x-ray to his lighted board on the wall. “Looks like you have
a fracture. A small one, but it’s there. Want a cast, or can I trust you with a
sturdy boot?”

           
Duane
snorted. “Better do the immoveable cast. She isn’t known for taking things
easy.”

           
Tears
stung my eyes.
My first broken bone.
I
laid
back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “I want
fluorescent pink.” I might as well look good while I clumped around.

“I can put a rubber heel
on so you don’t have to use crutches,” the doctor offered. “The break isn’t a
bad one, but it definitely didn’t help with you walking on it all day.”

“That would be great,
thanks.” Keeping Dottie safe, finding out whether Darla killed Amber, and
helping Mom in the store seemed like an insurmountable task now.

Duane left to get
something to drink, and I closed my eyes, letting the pain pill make me fuzzy.

“You got something to
tell me?” Bruce entered the room as the doctor started wrapping the cast.

“In private, please,
Doc?” Once the doctor left, I rolled onto an elbow, the pain meds I’d been given
dulling the pain in my ankle. “When we were headed to Wanda’s for lunch, I saw
Darla and Amber duck around the corner of the Hardware store. It appeared as if
Darla were following Amber. Now, Amber is dead. I tried to talk to you about it
then, but all you could think about was putting food in your stomach.”

He raised his eyebrows.
“Are you saying Darla killed Amber?”

“I’m saying you should
consider the possibility.”

“Darla was at the diner
with us.”

I rolled my eyes. “What
time was Amber killed?”

“Sometime between ten
and one o’clock.”

“So, Darla could easily
have killed her then headed to the diner.” Did the man not think for himself? I
knew he was busy, but everyone was.

“Well,” Bruce shrugged.
“We aren’t even sure it was murder. There are no defensive wounds on the victim,
and no other signs of violence.”

“Then, how did she die?”

“It looks like she fell
and hit her head, but the ME will know more when he’s examined her. Is that
all?”

I nodded, wondering how
I could get off the bed and down to the basement where the morgue was. If the
poor girl hit her head, she had help. She wasn’t far enough along in her
pregnancy to show, much less be unwieldy. No, the circumstances were too
suspicious for me to brush off as easily as Bruce seemed to be able to do.

“I’ve already told you
more than I should have.” He snapped his notebook closed, not having jotted
down a single note, and laughed. “But at least with your foot in a cast, I
won’t have to worry about you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

I failed to mention to
him that I would receive a walking cast. Once I wasn’t loopy from meds, I’d be as
good as new.

Once he left, the doctor
and Duane came back in. The doctor finished my cast and an hour later, Duane drove
me home. “I know you’re itching to find out more details about what happened
today, but please let it rest until tomorrow. Give your ankle one day of
peace.”

Since the day was almost
over, that wouldn’t be a problem.

Duane drove me home and
carried me into the house. After setting me on the sofa, fluffing pillows behind
me and placing an afghan across my legs, he handed me the television remote.
“It’s your lucky day. We can watch any chick flick you want.”

“As long as you sit next
to me, I don’t care what we watch. We can rest my foot in your lap.”

“Won’t that jostle you?”

“I want you
close—”

The front door banged
open. “You broke your foot?” Hurricane Lindsey blew into the room. “We can’t
leave you alone for a minute, Mom. You’re a danger to yourself.” Tears
glimmered in her eyes, showing me that she cared, despite the fists on her thin
hips. “I don’t want to put you in a nursing home for at least ten more years.”

“Gee, thanks.”
Because every woman wants to go in a home before the age of fifty.

“Sweetie—” Duane
reached for her.

“And you!” Lindsey
turned with a snarl. “You’re going to be her husband. You should take better
care of her. First she’s shot at, and now…this. Both while
you
were with her.” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

Duane pulled my daughter
into his arms. Her head nestled in the curve of his shoulder, same as mine did
when he held me. I smiled through my tears. Although five years old when her
father, Duane’s brother died, Lindsey couldn’t find a better replacement than
in the man I intended to marry. Seeing how he related to her, how he soothed
her fears, made me reconsider my hesitancy in trying for a second child. Duane
would make a wonderful father.

After Lindsey’s cries
turned to quiet hiccups, Duane led her to the easy chair by the window. He
gently sat her down,
then
knelt in front of her. “I’m
sorry your mother was hurt today. Whenever that happens, it rips out my heart.
Don’t you know how much I want to keep her safe?”

“I know.” Lindsey
nodded. “Mom makes it difficult.”

Duane hid a laugh in a
cough and winked at me. “Horribly difficult.”

“I’m afraid someone is
really going to hurt her bad someday. Like someone did to Amber.”

I straightened, knocking
one of my pillows to the floor. “Who told you about Amber?”

“Danny.” She wiped her
eyes on the sleeve of her long-sleeved tee-shirt. “He’s pretty upset.”

Understandably
so, since he’s the father of her baby.
“Where did you see Danny?”

“Pacing up and down in
front of the crime scene tape by Harvey’s Hardware.” She sniffed. “Once he
found out it was Amber, he was almost inconsolable. Kept saying he’s had
enough. He acted like a crazy person.”

Enough of what was the
question of the day. Darn this broken foot of mine, and the medication that
kept me woozy. I should be out there hitting the pavement, hunting up clues,
and catching a murderer. “Where was Bruce while Danny did his little walk?”

 
“Staring at everyone who walked by, and
yelling at anyone who got too close.” She shook her head. “That man is really
stressed.”

At least her bad
attitude was off of me.

“And then Danny’s mom
showed up and the two went at each other like insane people. Bruce had to pull
them apart. They sure don’t act like mother and son.” She gave Duane a hug.
“Thanks. I’m sorry I yelled at you, but Mom scares me to death sometimes.”

“Yeah, she scares me,
too.” He grunted as he got to his feet. “Want me to order pizza?”

“Definitely.” She
plopped on to the sofa, bumping my leg with her arm. I hissed through my teeth,
but kept a smile plastered on my face. If she knew how much pain I was in,
she’d start ranting again about my carelessness. “Does Grandma know you’ve hurt
yourself again?”

“Uh.” I glanced at
Duane.

“I didn’t tell her, but
then Lindsey managed to find out fast enough.” He glanced at his watch. “The
store isn’t closed yet. Maybe she’s sticking around for a last minute
customer.”

“Maybe.” But it wasn’t
like her to at least call if she knew. I called Mom’s cell phone.

“What?” she whispered.
“I’m hot on the trail of a suspect.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Click.

“She hung up on me.” I
stared at the screen on my phone. “She said she was hot on the trail of a
suspect.”

“The apple doesn’t fall
far from the tree, does it?” Duane fished out his own cell phone. “I’ll try to
see if Leroy knows anything.” He punched in numbers,
then
sighed. “Went to voice mail. Try your mom again.”

I did. “Mom, are you
chasing a suspect for Amber’s death?”

“Amber’s dead? God in
heaven, help us. No, we’re following a suspect in the old lady killings.”