An Appointment With Murder (5 page)

“I can postpone my trip ‘til the end of the month. It’s not too late,” he said, feigning a pout. I walked to him and let him embrace me.

“Brian and I can survive a few days without you.”

“I know, but you need me right now. I already feel like an ass as it is. Better yet, why don’t you come on this trip with me? Miami will be warm and sunny. You can lounge by the pool while I’m in my meetings. Brian can take care of himself for a few days.”

“That actually sounds wonderful, but I can’t miss Beth’s service tomorrow.”

“Okay. Guess I can understand that.” He kissed me on the cheek, gave me a half smile, and hefted his suitcase. “I’ll see you in a few days then,” he said, turning towards the door. ”Give Brian a hug for me, will ya?”

A small part of me wanted to go with him. The notion of warm weather almost made me change my mind. But then I flashed back to a business trip I’d made with him to Las Vegas several years ago. The company he worked for, Ace Technologies was hosting its annual conference. He’d assured me we’d have lots of time to do fun things together between his meetings. It hadn’t turned out that way. I’d spent most of my time by myself, watching pay-per-view movies in the hotel room. Good times. Shaking off the memories, I got dressed.

* * *

Twenty-five minutes later I was walking into the office, half expecting to see Beth sitting at her desk. Reality wasted no time in slapping me hard across the face. It always fascinated me that a person could be alive one minute and gone the next and the world kept on going just the same.

I set my purse on the desk and began to flip through the pages of the appointment book. It became apparent as I leafed through the client files how organized Beth had been. Six weeks ago, when Daniel had suggested that I hire someone to help me run the business, I had thought it might be more trouble than it was worth. But when Beth walked into the office and applied for the job, I’d hired her on the spot. We had an instant chemistry, and she’d turned out to be the perfect receptionist. Punctual. Always willing to do whatever was necessary. She’d even taken an interest in the practice end of it, asking questions about clients and their treatments, wanting to understand how the various techniques helped people with particular physical complaints.

As I sat lost in thought, the mailman walked in. I signed for a small package, together with a handful of envelopes. When he left, I opened the small, brown box and removed the bottles of essential oils I’d ordered the week before. Picking up the envelopes and leafing through them, I came upon one addressed to Beth Stevens. It was pale yellow and looked to be a greeting card by the square shape. There was no return address. To just throw it away seemed too cold, to give it to Jacob or Max too heartless. I decided to open it.
“Congratulations on Your Engagement”
was printed in raised, gold script on the front. Inside, it read:

Dear Beth,

I am so pleased to hear of your engagement. I will be in town next Saturday, November 13, on business and would love to meet for drinks at Barney’s at 4 p.m. Looking forward to seeing you again, and please give my regards to your fiancé, Jacob.

Love,

Your cousin,

Greg

Deciding to hold onto it, I tucked the card into my purse. When I glanced back down at the client list, the sadness and anger began to creep back in. The thought of Beth’s life cut short made me want to scream.

I had just finished rescheduling all the appointments when an attractive woman who looked to be in her early thirties walked in.

“Hi, can I help you?” I asked, wondering if she was one of Gabby’s clients.

“Yes. My name is Lindy,” she said, looking around the waiting room. “Is Beth working today? I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and say hi . . . ” She’d seemed about to say more when she saw the look on my face. Shaking my head, I stood up and walked around the desk. She removed her sunglasses revealing long brown bangs that covered her eyebrows.

“I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Beth died a few days ago.” I cleared my throat, then remembered, too late, that I was supposed to refrain from mentioning details to anyone. She didn’t react at first, but after a few long seconds my words seemed to sink in. She brought a hand to her mouth and looked at me. “What happened?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I ran the fingers of my left hand over my temple, pushing back some loose strands of hair. “It’s being investigated by the police,” I began, “and I’ve been asked not to say anything about it to anyone.”

“Well,” she said, with a quick roll of her eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to say anything. I mean, really?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, walking back around the desk.

I began to write the time and place of Beth’s service on a slip of paper, but the woman turned on her heel and walked out the door indignantly. I followed her outside, piece of paper in hand.

“Excuse me, Lindy, you might want this.” I called out, waving the piece of paper in the air. She looked at me, put her sunglasses back on, and got in her car without a word. I watched her drive off . . . in a white Subaru Outback.

The moment my brain registered what I was seeing, intuition kicked into overdrive. I ran to my desk and grabbed my purse and car keys.

The adrenaline coursing through my veins drove my foot down harder and harder on the accelerator. What was I doing? It was absurd. But I couldn’t ignore the coincidence. Was this the car Beth had been in just a few days ago? If so, why in the world would Beth try to hide it, especially with the owner being a woman? And who was this Lindy? Seeing that she was just three cars ahead of me, I hung back. I didn’t think she’d seen me, but figured I should be careful.

Where was she going? And what did I think I was going to do once we got there? Lindy suddenly took a sharp left turn at a set of lights that had just turned yellow and I cursed the cars in front of me for not going faster. Damn it, I was going to lose her. Just as the car ahead of me turned, the light went red. Determining that I had a small window of opportunity, I floored it and turned just as the oncoming traffic got the green. I didn’t hear a single horn as, hands firmly clenching the steering wheel, I searched the road ahead. Spotting her, I began to accelerate when she pulled off to the right and stopped in front of a coffee shop called Gina’s. I braked and pulled off on the left side of the road.

The neighborhood was quaint, a handful of hair salons, art galleries, and café’s along cobblestone streets. A few blocks away, a man was walking a dog along the tree-lined sidewalks.

The Subaru’s driver’s side door opened, Lindy’s legs swung out, and her feet struck the pavement. She pulled her bag out of the car behind her, pushed the door shut, and went into the cafe. I was dying to see who was meeting her, but it was outrageous enough that I’d even followed her, so I elected to wait in the car.

Five minutes had passed by when my cell phone rang. It was Brian.

“Hey, sweetheart. Home from school?” I asked, all the while keeping my eyes on the entrance to the café.

“Yeah. Hey, Mom. Okay if I go to the basketball game later with friends?”

“I guess so. Have you done your homework?”

“Did it in study hall.”

“Will you be back in time for dinner?”

“Uh, don’t know.”

“Well, I was thinking with Dad gone you and I could go out for Mexican tonight.” When Brian hesitated, I saved him the trouble of worrying about saying the wrong thing and hurting my feelings.

“Never mind. We can do it some other time. I’ve got things to do anyway.”

“Well, it’s just that Kerry’s having people over after the game. We were going to order pizza or something.”

“Sure. Go ahead. Have fun. Leave your old mom in the dust. I’m used to it by now.”

“Thanks, Mom. See you later, okay?”

The joys of having a teenager. Maybe someday, I thought, he’ll actually want to spend time with me again.

I tossed my cell on the seat and decided to make a note of Lindy’s plate number. My concentration was broken by a loud knock on my car window. I jumped and looked up to see the man I’d seen walking his dog earlier. He motioned for me to roll down my window. Cracking it no more than an inch, I smiled and said, “Can I help you with something?”

“Actually, I thought I might be able to help you,” he said, all smiles and bad teeth. “I noticed a scratch in the paint on the side of your car, and, well, you see, I own a body shop here in town. Here’s my card if you’d like me to fix it for you.”

“Oh. Thank you,” I said, taking the card and waving goodbye. Some nerve. The dog walking was probably the guy’s way of scoping out the neighborhood every day for prospective customers.

As man and dog walked off, I glanced back at the coffee shop again. Lindy’s car was gone! Looking up the road and seeing nothing, I pounded the steering wheel. After a few minutes of cursing myself for being so stupid, I looked down at the license number I’d jotted down in my notebook. What was I going to do with it? If I called Detective Flynn, how would I explain following someone halfway across town on a hunch that got me essentially nowhere? Instead, I called Gabby.

“Hey, it’s Sarah,” I said when she answered. “Wanna go out for margaritas tonight? I need to fill you in on some things. And I could really use some advice. My treat.”

Gabby accepted without hesitation. “I can meet you at six. Usual place?”

“Yeah. Thanks. See you then, Gab.”

Later that evening, sipping margaritas with her at my favorite bar, Coco’s Cantina, I told Gabby about Lindy. So engrossed was she in the tale of my brief stint as private investigator that she’d drunk almost her entire margarita.

“So what happened after you followed her to the cafe?”

“Nothing is what happened. Some guy knocked on my window trying to sell me something and when I looked back at her car, it was gone,” I shook my head. “She couldn’t have been in that café more than five minutes.”

“Wow. Guess you better not quit your day job.”

“No shit.”

“What would you have done, anyway? Confront her?” Gabby licked some salt from the rim of her glass.

“I hadn’t really thought it through. I was acting on impulse.”

“Hey, look, maybe we should go to the police and tell them about all of this. Let them sort it out. It is not your responsibility, or your burden, to solve Beth’s murder.” Gabby rested a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s not just about Beth, you know. Her killer attacked me, too. I need to figure this out,” I said, staring into what little was left of my own drink.

“Yeah. I figured as much. You’re a stubborn bitch, you know that?” Gabby smiled and punched me gently on the arm.

“By the way, did you know Beth has a gorgeous brother named Max? I met him the other day.”

“Really? How? What?” Gabby couldn’t find the words to phrase the question she wanted to ask.

“He must have known about me from Beth. I was at the coffee shop and he just came in, sat down next to me, and introduced himself.”

“How’d he know you’d be there?”

“I don’t really know, come to think of it. He didn’t say.”

“Sounds a little creepy to me.”

“He was nice enough.”

“So what’d he have to say?”

“He wanted to talk about Beth. He seems to think Jacob may have had something to do with her death. He’s not a big fan of Beth’s fiancé.”

“But why would he think that? I mean, that’s a pretty big jump from not liking someone to thinking they’re a murderer.”

“I agree. But he seems pretty sure of it.”

“Maybe he’s blaming Jacob simply because there’s no one else to pin it on right now.”

“Who knows?”

“So,” Gabby smiled slyly and drummed her fingers on the bar, “just how gorgeous is Beth’s brother?”

“What do you care?” I teased. “You don’t do men, remember? By the way,” I added, desirous of changing the subject, “are you going with me to Beth’s service tomorrow?”

“Sure. Can we meet at the office? I have a few massage appointments scheduled for later in the day.”

“That’s fine.”

“So when are you going back to work?”

“Wednesday. I’ve scheduled three appointments. I’m not so sure I’m ready, but I need to make some money,” I said, finishing my drink.

“Tell me about it.” Gabby pushed off from her stool, reached into her purse, and pulled out her car keys.

“Not back on track with everything yet? Don’t mean to pry. Just concerned.”

“Oh, I’m getting by. And, really, thanks for asking.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Why don’t you take some of my clients? I need to start slowing down. My body can’t take much more.”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, you’ve worked hard for the clients you have. You really want to give them away?”

“I need to, Gabby. I’d rather have them go to you than to some other therapist. You have amazing, strong hands, you deserve a break, and they already know you. Speaking of your amazing hands, think you could work on my back one of these days?”

“Of course. Anything for you.”

“Don’t want another drink?” I asked, sensing she was anxious to leave.

“Thanks, but I’m meeting some friends over at this new gay bar in town called Veronica’s. Would you like to join us?”

“Boy, it’s tempting,” I said, manufacturing what was intended to be a wicked smile. “Maybe another time.”

Gabby laughed. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” she said, discreetly giving her right breast a little squeeze, me a wink, and leaving me alone in the bar.

It was early, but I probably should have gone home. Truth was, though, I was feeling a little restless. Between the general excitement of the day and my botched attempt at playing private eye, the adrenaline was still flowing. The business with Lindy had really gotten me riled up. I felt like I was onto something big. But I had to make a decision. Was I going to divulge what I’d learned today to the police?

With no one at home to cook for, I decided to stay and have dinner by myself. A heaping plate of nachos sounded good. And what the hell, I ordered another margarita, too.