Dressed To Kill (10 page)

The door flew open and there she stood in her full costume, a beaded scarf tied around her head, the beads and small bells mixing in her long dark hair. “Jill, I didn’t expect you today.” She looked down at the cat in my arms. “Oh, Maggie brought you.”

“Actually, I brought her. She was on my porch again. You really need . . .” My words trailed off as I watched Esmeralda walk away and sit at her reading table.

“Come sit, we’ll find out what Maggie thinks you should know.” She patted the chair next to her and Maggie meowed again.

Seriously?
The cat
thought I needed to know something? I needed to know how to keep my nose out of the cat’s business, that’s what I needed. I should have sent her with Aunt Jackie. “I’ve got stuff to do.” I turned toward the door.

“Please, Jill, it will only take a second. Maggie won’t give up, and I’d hate to see her hurt while trying to get you to listen.” Her voice was calm, but an image of a speeding car flying toward town came to me.

I closed the door, then put Maggie down on the hardwood floor. Immediately, she ran to the open chair, then jumped onto the table and sat. Her eyes bored into me.

This was stupid.
“I really don’t have a lot of time,” I grumbled as I walked toward the chair.

“Laundry can wait.”

I eyed Esmeralda. Maybe the woman had a bug set up in my house, listening to me. Now I was being paranoid. Greg thought he had a leak in the department; maybe I’d be able to find out if his dispatcher was the source of Darla’s information or just a good guesser. “Fine.”

I sat in the chair and Esmeralda grabbed both of my hands, pulling them to the table. “Relax, and let your mind wander. I’ll do the heavy lifting.”

I started to giggle, but her harsh look quieted me. I closed my eyes and wandered through the list of names Pat had given me. Kent had been busy his last few months on the earth. I felt sorry for Sherry; no one deserved that type of betrayal.

“You’re on the right path, but the reasons will be different than what appears at first.” Esmeralda’s trance voice broke my thoughts and my eyelids flew open. Her gaze was focused on the crystal ball in the middle of the table.

The ball had been clear when I sat, but now a gray mist floated in the middle.
Cheap parlor trick.
Then I noticed Maggie watching the ball, as well.
This better keep the kitten off my porch and out of harm’s way.

The cat looked up from the swirling mist and meowed.

“A woman scorned. Some are silver and the others gold.” Esmeralda repeated the line she’d given me the last time she’d read for me. Apparently she believed in friendships. Maybe that was the point; the woman wanted a friend. Maybe I’d ask her to go with me and Amy on our next girls’ night out. I glanced at the gypsy outfit. Or maybe shopping in town would be a better start.

The grip on my hands loosened, and I felt the fortune-teller lean back into her chair.

“Sorry about that, I guess I was wrong. Sometimes the spirits don’t want to talk when we want to listen. Do you want to come back tomorrow and we can try again?” Esmeralda picked up Maggie, rubbing her under her chin.

“But you d—” I broke off my statement. It could be like sleepwalking; you were never supposed to wake the guy up unless he was about to walk off the window ledge. “Sure. I’ll talk to you later then.”

I walked the few steps home and wondered if Esmeralda was just messing with me. Had she not heard herself talk? I decided to do some research on the practice. Maybe she did have a gift. She’d been right before, but I’d chalked that up to hindsight. The old camp song echoed in my head . . .
Make new friends but keep the old . . .

Friends like Pat and Sherry. Or Aunt Jackie and Mary. Or me and Amy. What would you do for a friend? Pat’s visit seemed to be a prime example of a way to be stupid for a friend.

After grabbing a bag of chips and my beer, I pulled out my laptop and looked up the list of names on Facebook. Not Investigation 101, but a good place to start. On the third name, I hit pay dirt. The photo was a group shot with what appeared to be a husband and a cute three-year-old. The woman had been the model who’d slipped out of the Business-to-Business meeting. And according to her last Facebook post, she and her spouse were celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary next week.

She’d have reason to keep the affair secret. And reason to kill Kent.

“S
ince you can’t make our weekly breakfast date, I brought the food to you.” Amy slapped a bag from Diamond Lille’s on the front counter of the shop. “You can thank me by making me a large mocha with an extra shot before you sit down to eat.”

The smell of gooey omelets and salty hash browns made my stomach growl. I quickly made Amy her drink, then glanced at the door to make sure I didn’t have an incoming customer. Aunt Jackie had mentioned that the Sunday early shift was slow, but this was glacial. I made a mental note to discuss changing hours for the day until the summer tourist season started. “Thanks for the grub. I figured you’d be checking out surfing spots with Justin this morning.”

Amy shrugged and looked down at her cup.

“Whoa. Is there a problem with you and Justin?” I slipped onto a stool and pulled out the Styrofoam cartons that held our breakfasts. Three-egg Denver omelet for Amy and a mushroom and Swiss for me. Both had a generous side of hash browns tucked in next to the eggs. Steam rose when I opened the lid. I guess after being friends for over five years, the girl could order for me as easily as herself. I dug my fork into the cheesy delight and almost groaned when the flavors hit my tongue.

Amy picked a lone piece of ham off the top of her omelet and stared at it like she couldn’t recognize the type of meat she held. Finally she shook her head and popped the cube into her mouth. “He’s been a little jumpy lately since he found Kent’s body. I think he’s staying home this weekend and cleaning his apartment.”

That got my attention. According to Amy, Justin’s apartment looked like the typical campus bachelor pad, filled with pizza boxes and half-consumed sodas. Justin had said life was too short to worry about cleaning a place where he slept and showered. “I’m sure he’ll get over it. It’s not every day you find a dead body.”

She picked up her fork. “I guess. It’s just this isn’t the Justin I knew. I thought he was beginning to think about something more between us. I mean, he took me to meet his parents for Christmas. Now I can barely get him to answer a text.”

I’d remembered the holiday incident. I’d thought Amy was going to have a nervous breakdown when she thought Justin was even thinking of them as a couple. Now she was worried that the relationship was over. I had to get her thinking of something else. Then a plan came to me. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Washing my hair, arranging my closet, maybe reading a book, if I can get my mind to focus. Why?” Amy picked at her hash browns, discarding a bite as too burnt when really it was only crunchy and delicious.

I filled her in on Pat’s visit yesterday and the mystery model’s Facebook page I’d found. When I finished, I realized I’d also finished the omelet, so I took the last bite of potatoes and cleaned up my spot. “So, come talk to her with me.”

“How do you expect to find her? People don’t leave their home address on their Facebook pages. Or at least if they’re smart they don’t.” Amy closed up her own container with the omelet half-eaten and threw the rest into the trash.

I smiled. “I didn’t need her to leave her address. I have a phone book.” I held the local phone book up for her to see. “And they still list addresses in the white pages. How stupid is that?”

I opened the book and found the name on the page. Baker, Thomas and Evelyn. “They live in Bakerstown. Want to come with me on a short road trip?”

Amy eyed me suspiciously. “What does Greg say about this?”

Now it was my turn to avoid eye contact. I went back behind the counter and started restocking the cup supply.

“Jill?” Amy’s voice was hard. “You
have
told Greg what Pat said, right?”

I threw the empty cup box into the trash. “Which part? The part where she says Sherry’s trying to get him back? Or about Kent’s other girlfriends?”

“Greg’s not going anywhere, you know that.” Amy put her hand on mine. “You do know he’s crazy about you, right?”

“Aunt Jackie said it yesterday, ex-wife trumps new girlfriend.” I pushed back the tears I’d been carrying around all morning. I’d woken up from a bad dream early that morning, and not even a fast-paced run with Emma on our favorite stretch of beach had calmed my nerves.

“In death, not in real life.” Amy fell silent for a minute. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks.” I wiped the back of my hand over my eyes, feeling stupid for letting my fear show.

“Hold on. I’m not done.” Amy swung her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll go with you, if you tell Greg everything before we leave. I don’t care if it’s by voice mail or snail-mail letter. I’d feel better if someone knew where we were going before we disappeared.”

“Aunt Jackie knows the story.”

“And she’s somewhere in the city having fun with Mary.” Amy shook her head. “If this is Kent’s murderer and she gets upset while we’re talking to her, I want to know someone has our backs.”

“Fine, I’ll tell Greg.” I swung a towel over my shoulder. “If you stop freaking about Justin.”

“That’s different.” Amy walked toward the door. When she reached for the handle, I heard her say, “But I’ll try.”

I watched her walking toward the bike rental shop and her apartment wondering when Amy had started feeling this way about Justin. And what the guy was thinking, hurting my friend.

Don’t get involved in others’ problems. It only limits your own potential.
The advice from the Tiger Lady’s book echoed in my head. But wasn’t that what friendship was about? Caring for others when they didn’t have the strength to carry themselves? I’d read halfway through the book a few nights ago and had to put it away. The author was self-absorbed and teaching others how to be the same way. Sherry, however, could give this woman lessons. I glanced over at the small self-help section of the bookstore and wondered if there was anything about not letting people walk all over you and not turning into a complete jerk. After wasting all that time reading, I realized my life didn’t have as many problems as I’d thought when I started the book. Maybe being hooked on investigating murders and solving puzzles was one of my strengths rather than a weakness.

The bell on the door kept me from walking over to the shelf and the steady stream of customers kept me busy until Toby arrived at one to take over the rest of the day.

“Hey, boss, you look stressed.” He glanced around the shop; all the tables were filled with tourists. “You should have called me in early. I was just hanging around the house with the girls.”

Toby’s new girlfriend kept him busy with repairs to the small cottage she’d bought the last year. That and playing with Isabell, her daughter. The guy had a full life, especially since he worked two jobs.

“If it got worse, I would have called for help.” I put the back of my hand on my forehead and batted my eyelashes. “You know a woman can’t handle much more.”

“Fine, I get it. You’re a grown woman and I’m just a jerk trying to help.” Toby put on his Wired Up apron and started setting up the coffee bar for his shift. “But my mama raised me to be polite and offer, so I guess you’re just stuck with me.”

“I’m teasing.” I thought about the self-help books. Maybe Toby would have a suggestion. “Hey, do you know of any books about being assertive without turning into a complete . . .”

“Tiger?” When he looked into my face, he laughed. “I saw the book in your purse. Listen, you’re just fine the way you are. Sure, you care about what people in your life think. But everyone does, except people like that author, who probably doesn’t have a family or friends who will still talk to her.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I keep hearing I should be more confident.”

“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you a piece of cheesecake, and you can tell Father Toby all about your problem.” Toby swung a towel over his shoulder and leaned over the counter, resting on his forearms.

“I prefer the anonymity of a good shrink book, thank you anyway.” I laughed and took my own apron off. “Besides, I’m meeting Amy this afternoon to run into Bakerstown.”

I left off the part about stopping by the model’s house to see if she’d killed Kent. If things went right, I’d have Greg’s investigation solved and we’d be able to spend Monday at the beach. Or Greg would be mad and not talking to me for a week or more. I paused and thought about my promise to Amy.

Toby hadn’t moved from his spot, where he still watched me. When I turned back, he shook his head and backed away, dumping out an almost-empty pot of coffee to make more. “I know that look. You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“I’m just leaving an address with you, just in case.” I quickly wrote the information on the back of a take-out menu card Aunt Jackie had printed up last month.

Toby stared at the paper like it might bite him. “In case of what?”

“If you don’t hear from me this evening, give this to Greg and tell him Amy and I went to visit with this woman.” I tried for an innocent look. “No big deal, Amy just wants someone to know where we are. The whole Kent thing has her spooked.”

I could see Toby’s mind whirling as he tested the idea, and then he nodded, letting me off the hook for additional questions. “I know Justin’s kind of a mess right now. The guy called me last night and we talked for over an hour about life and death. I didn’t think we were friends, but I felt bad for the guy.”

And now I felt bad for lying to Toby. But instead of backing up, I kept going. “Amy’s worried about him. It will do her good to get out of town for a few hours today.”

He picked up the menu card and tapped it on the counter. “What time should I send in reinforcements if you don’t call?”

I calculated the drive time and a few stops in town, like maybe a mani-pedi appointment. “I’ll call you before nine. Does that work? Or do you have plans tonight?”

“Nine’s fine. I’m heading back to the apartment tonight to do some laundry and grocery shopping for the week. You know, bachelor stuff.”

A woman who’d just entered the store approached the counter. I recognized her as one of Toby’s cosmetology school regulars. “You know you don’t have to be a bachelor, Toby darling. I’m sure I’m not the only woman who’d be glad to do your laundry for a few concessions on your part.”

Toby started making the woman’s drink. “Now, Debbie, you know I’m dating someone right now. I can’t be playing the field if I’m going to get anyone to take me seriously.”

“Who says it has to be serious?” The woman winked at me. “I’d settle for a few one-night stands.”

I decided it was time for me to leave. “I’ll call you later. Have a good shift.”

As I walked out the door, I heard Debbie laughing at Toby’s response. Toby had a way of making every woman who walked into the shop feel special. Even if he was off the dating market.

I walked home and got ready for our secret agent outing. I took the laptop and printed off a copy of the Facebook page, writing down the Bakerses’ information from the local phone book. I grabbed a few bottles of water, put them and an ice pack into a minicooler, and grabbed Emma’s leash. She could at least lick the attacker to death if we were put into a difficult position.

I packed it all up in my Jeep, put Emma in the backseat, and headed back into town. I parked on the street in front of the bike rental shop where Amy rented the top floor apartment, right behind Sadie’s Pies on the Fly tiny car. The PT Cruiser was hard to miss with the dark purple color and the big slice of pie logo applied to each door, including the hatchback in the rear. I rolled down the windows for Emma, told my dog I’d be a few minutes, and headed toward Amy’s door.

Sadie left the bike rental shop at the same time, her face turning a bright pink as soon as she saw me. “Oh, Jill, I didn’t expect to see you here. Isn’t today your day off?”

I felt my lips curl upward into a large grin. “I bet you didn’t. And yes, typically, this is the start of my weekend, but Aunt Jackie took the day off. What are you doing? Planning a bike trip?”

Sadie slapped me on the arm. She looked around and, lowering her voice, she muttered, “You know what I’m doing here. I just don’t want the whole town or Darla to find out.”

“You’re right about that. If Darla knew you were dating Dustin Austin, it would be front-page news.” I gave her a quick hug. “Don’t worry, your sex life isn’t the most interesting thing going on in South Cove these days.”

Sadie’s face turned a brighter shade of red. “Don’t say ‘sex life.’ It’s trashy. I don’t want to be seen as a wanton woman.”

Honest to God, I broke out into giggles. When I could catch my breath, I wiped my eyes and focused on the now-frowning Sadie. “There is no one in town who would ever call you wanton. You’re the most churchgoing, friendly, helpful, caring, and utterly awesome woman in town.”

Sadie inched toward her car. “Well, that being said, I still don’t want to be a subject of gossip. I’ll see you Tuesday morning with your shop order.”

And with that, she put the car into gear and almost burned rubber getting away from me. I turned and found Amy standing next to me, watching Sadie leave.

“What’s got into her? She’s been acting weird lately.” Amy went over to the car and gave Emma a pat on the head, before ordering her to return to the backseat. She waited for my dog to settle on the backseat before opening the passenger door. Emma liked Amy and listened to her. Not like me. Sometimes I can talk till I’m blue in the face, and my dog will still ignore my commands.

I climbed into the driver’s seat and wondered what I should say. Amy was my best friend. But I considered Sadie a friend, too. Finally, I went with a shrug. “Beats me.”

Fortunately Amy had already moved on to the next topic: Justin and his issues. As I drove, Amy listed off all the positive and negative qualities of the man. As we pulled into Bakerstown, I realized she was doing a pros and cons list. “Are you thinking about breaking up with him over this Kent thing?”