Dressed To Kill (11 page)

It was Amy’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. But it’s weird, isn’t it? You’ve found a dead body before and you didn’t go all hermit on me.”

She was right. I had found a couple of dead bodies in the last year. First Miss Emily, who appeared to have died in her sleep. Then last fall, I’d been the one to notice that Ted Hendricks had taken a bullet to the brain in his precious Mustang. I keyed the address into my GPS and waited for it to load. “You’re wrong about one thing. Finding someone dead does leave a mark. Even on me. I guess I just handled it differently than Justin is. Cut the guy some slack.”

Amy stared out the window as the GPS told us where to go. “Now you think I’m a bad person.”

“I do not think you’re a bad person. You’re jumping to conclusions because you’re scared, that’s all.” I thought about the fear I’d seen in my friend’s face when she’d told me Justin wanted to take her home for Christmas. “He’s a good guy. Let him work it out.”

The GPS lady told me to take the next left and we’d be at our destination. I turned down the wide residential street and slowed to check out the minimansions on what appeared to be acre lots. “I sure hope Pat was wrong about this woman. Seems like dating Kent would be a downgrade in status.”

Amy was focused on the large houses, too. “I don’t know. I hear Kent had a few bucks stashed. He was always flashing money like he made it at the bank. With a printing press or something, I mean.”

Something Amy said was making my internal radar go crazy. Kent and the bank and his apparent wealth. Made sense that Sherry would go for that type. He had the money to keep her in the style that she preferred, if not deserved. I was trying to focus on the niggle when Amy pointed to the left. “That’s the house.”

I pulled the Jeep to the side of the road and watched as a woman dressed in a sleek tracksuit, opened the door to the house leading a large wolfhound. I heard Emma’s whine from the backseat. “And that’s her. Stay here with Emma.”

I quickly clambered out of the Jeep and sprinted over to meet the woman before she started her run. She glanced up and put a hand on her dog, who immediately sat by her side. A great trick and one I wished Emma could learn. “Evelyn Baker?” I called as I walked toward her. “We need to talk about Kent Paine.”

T
he woman’s face went from a bright welcoming smile to a look of fear, her long black hair making her tanned skin seem twice as pale. She glanced toward the house, then nodded. “Can we walk?”

I fell into step beside her. “So you knew him.” I let the statement hang, wondering how she would play this.

We’d reached the end of the first block when she nodded. “I knew him. And if you’re here asking questions, you know I had an indiscretion with him.”

“I’ve heard rumors.” I looked both ways before we crossed the street, but the neighborhood was oddly quiet for a Sunday afternoon. Too many people out of town or just enjoying a weekend afternoon out on their back deck.

“His girlfriend confronted me at the modeling gig. I thought it was funny he wanted me to take the job, but he said he knew the owner and it would be a big favor to him.” She shook her head. “I think he wanted to break it off without him doing the heavy lifting.”

“So you stopped seeing him?” I thought back on the Business-to-Business meeting from hell and the gleam in Sherry’s eyes as she talked to Kent.

“That woman told me if I didn’t, she would e-mail my husband. And she said she had pictures.” She quickly added, “I don’t know whether that’s true. I mean, we never took shots while we were together, but you never know what type of games people play. I never would have started something with him if I’d thought he was with someone.”

The irony of her morality around sleeping with an attached man didn’t escape me. “It was okay for you to cheat, but not him?”

She sighed and pulled the dog away from a flower bed he was attempting to flatten. “You may not believe me, but I respect marriage. My husband and I have an open arrangement. Mostly on his side. He likes to experiment. I guess I was feeling lonely and Kent just kind of was there.”

Not my type of relationship, but who was I to judge? “You wouldn’t mind if your husband found out? So why did you stop seeing Kent?”

“Because I minded that he was cheating.” She put her hand on my arm and turned me to look at her. “Believe me, I have no interest in messing with anyone’s relationship. He told me he was single.”

We started walking again, and I thought about Evelyn’s reasoning. It made sense in a twisted way.

“And before you ask, I was at a play with my husband in the city on Wednesday. We drove up Tuesday night and came back Thursday. I didn’t kill Kent.” There was intensity to her words and I believed her.

“Date night?” I didn’t like the snark in my voice, but there it was anyway.

“Look, we’re trying. He’s agreed to stop sleeping around and I told him about Kent. I think he just needed to know I’d play the game, too, if he didn’t stop.” Evelyn let the dog’s leash extend as she continued. “Kent was my financial advisor. I have a little money my grandmother left me, so he was helping me invest. I don’t know much about the stock market, so he was teaching me what to buy and what to stay away from.”

“And one night it went too far?” I guessed.

A strained smile crossed her face. “One night we were celebrating the stock split of an investment. We bought wine for dinner. Thomas was out of town, and, well, you know the rest.”

“I need to ask: Would your husband kill Kent because of your relationship?” I studied the woman and knew she’d had the same thought.

We were at the end of a cul de sac and turned back toward the house before she spoke. “I don’t think so. Honestly, I don’t think he cares that much what I do.”

I said my good-byes and wished Evelyn Baker well. Watching her walk up the steps toward her beautiful home, I hoped she could find some peace within the stone walls. Having worked family law, I knew women sometimes stayed in relationships longer than they should for all the wrong reasons—including big houses.

I climbed into the car and got a wet doggy kiss from Emma. Amy put her phone into her purse, watching me expectantly. When I didn’t answer before I started the Jeep and pulled a U-turn toward the highway, she prompted, “Well?”

“I don’t think she killed Kent.” I hit the speed-dial for the shop and Toby answered.

“Coffee, Books, and More, what can I prepare for you today?” His low voice filled the cab of the Jeep and Emma let out a short, friendly bark. “Oh, hey, Emma. Who’s a good girl?”

Emma wiggled in her seat and smiled in her doggy way. I took my eyes off the rearview mirror and my happy pet and focused back on the road. “Oh, she is. I guess you have this effect on all types of females, huh?”

“Now, boss, don’t go dogging on my special talent. It brings in the business.” Toby laughed and I heard him welcome a customer into the store. “I take it you’re fine and on your way home?”

“Definitely. Just wanted to check in. See you on Tuesday.” I clicked off the phone and snuck a glance at Amy.

“You told Toby, not Greg?”

“You said someone needed to know where we were going. There was no reason to get Greg all upset before we knew something.” I sped up and merged into the highway traffic.

“And now?” Amy prodded.

I sighed and turned up the music. One of my favorite dance tunes from the eighties was talking about the abundance of men. I hoped it was true since my boyfriend just might dump me after this stunt. “Now I have something to tell him.”

I dropped Amy off at her apartment, waving at Dustin Austin as he sat in the sun, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, looking more like a tourist than a local business owner. The only thing that identified him as a professional was the laptop he had powered up on the table. As I watched, he turned the screen down as Amy walked by. Typical, he was probably surfing porn.

When I got home, I let Emma out the back, filled a Crock-Pot with a couple of frozen chicken breasts and a jar of salsa, and sat on the back porch with my phone in my hand. I took a sip of the iced tea I’d poured and speed-dialed Greg’s cell.

“Hey, you.” His voice came over the line warm and deep, and for a second, I regretted I’d ever made the trip into town. But you can’t change the past.

“Hey, yourself. Can you stop by the house for a few minutes? We need to talk.” My heartbeat raised as I waited for his answer.

“You ditching me for a younger man? Maybe someone who has bankers’ hours and weekends off?” He chuckled.

“Not funny. I just need to tell you something.” I threw the ball Emma had dropped on my feet out to the yard.

“I’ll be over in a couple of minutes. I need to take a break or I’ll blind myself on all this paperwork anyway.” He paused. “You aren’t in trouble, are you?”

“No. Just come over.” I felt the distance between us growing as the call extended. No way was he going to just take the information I had and run with it. It was time to pay the piper and ’fess up that I’d been playing amateur detective again. “Please.”

“Give me five minutes.” Then he hung up. No “love you,” no “see you soon,” only a dial tone. Yep, I was in for a lecture. Or worse.

I was still outside when his truck pulled into the driveway. When I heard the knock, I called out, “On the porch.”

He came around the corner and my heart rate sped up. With long dark Wrangler jeans, boots, a pressed sheriff’s shirt, and his black Stetson, he looked like a hero out of one of the romance novels I had shelved at the store. He leaned against the porch rail and folded his arms. “What have you done now?”

“That obvious?” I pulled my legs up under me and settled in for the ride.

“Honey, I can read you like one of those books you sell.” He leaned down to pet Emma, then tossed her ball out to the backyard. “So spill.”

“I’m trying to figure out where to start.” I took a sip of tea. “You remember the woman who followed Kent out of the store the day we had the Business-to-Business meeting at Vintage Duds? The model?”

“Vaguely.” Greg’s eyebrows raised. “Who was she?”

“Long dark hair, skinny, her name’s Evelyn Baker. Pat told me that she was having an affair with Kent.” This time, I threw the ball for Emma.

He pressed his lips together. “Pat told you? When did you start hanging around with her?”

“Amy and I had drinks with Sherry and Pat a few days ago, but I’m not her friend. She came over yesterday out of the blue. You can ask Aunt Jackie, she was here when Pat showed up.” I shook my head. “Anyway, Pat said Sherry thinks you’re convinced she killed Kent, so Pat wanted me to know there were other suspects.”

“Typical. You should have sent her right to me rather than listening to her stories. You know she’ll say and do anything for Sherry. When we were married, Pat lied to me countless times on where my wife was and who she was with.” Greg’s eyes darkened. “Can’t you just stay out of things?”

“I got curious, so sue me. Aunt Jackie wrote down the list of names Pat gave me, and I started looking them up.”

“How are you looking people up? If Esmeralda gave you passwords to the office servers, I’m going to fire her.” He frowned. “Or was it Toby?”

I held my hand up. “Stop. I looked the names up on Facebook.”

Greg laughed. He kept laughing. Then he threw Emma’s ball again and wiped the moisture from his eyes. “Okay, super sleuth. What did Facebook tell you?”

Okay, so maybe Facebook wasn’t a high-tech search engine, but I had found something. “I went through the list of names and found that Evelyn Baker is married to Thomas Baker and maybe had something to hide from her husband.”

“Like an affair with Kent.”

I nodded. “So Amy and I drove to Bakerstown to talk to her today.”

“Are you kidding me? You just drove off to her house and accused her of killing Kent?” He leaned closer. “How’d that turn out? I didn’t get a call from the Bakerstown police that you’d been thrown in jail.”

“I was more tactful than that.” I thought about my approach and decided I didn’t have to tell Greg everything. “Anyway, she claims to have an open marriage and she was in the city the night Kent was killed. With her husband.”

“So neither one could have killed him?” Greg pulled a notepad out of his pants pocket. “Give me their names and address again. I’ll check them out, just in case. Sherry is throwing anyone and everyone under the bus to keep her own butt out of jail.”

I listed off the names and then gave up the other thing I hadn’t told Greg. “The afternoon of the dress rehearsal, I saw Kent making out at the beach with some girl.”

He tapped the notebook. “This woman?”

It was my turn to shrug. “Unless she was wearing a red wig, someone else was kissing Kent’s face off in the car.”

“I’ve got to get back to the office and see if we can pull footage from the beach cameras. You should have mentioned this before.”

I had tried to tell him, but he’d brushed me off. “Look, I’ve been trying to tell you about her, but . . .”

Greg’s phone rang. He scowled at the display, then took the call. “I’ll be back at the desk in ten minutes tops. Can’t this wait?”

I heard a man’s voice on the other end. Tim took dispatch calls on the weekends when Esmeralda had readings. Greg’s gaze caught mine as he returned the phone to his side holster.

“What’s wrong?”

He walked over to me and sat next to me on the bench. “Jill, it’s your aunt.”

My stomach rolled at his words, and I couldn’t hear from the blood rushing in my ears. I repeated my question, not sure I wanted an answer. “What’s going on?”

“She’s been arrested.”

M
ary Sullivan met Amy and me on the courthouse steps. We’d driven not to the city, where my aunt had claimed to be taking a girls’ night, but instead, the short distance to Bakerstown for the second time that day. Greg had offered to come, but I knew he wanted to work the Kent case. Besides, with Amy riding along, at least we’d talked during the drive.

Greg had called as we pulled into Bakerstown, letting us know he’d gotten my aunt released to his custody. Moreover, he wanted us to stop at the station so he could have a chat with her. I had a feeling neither of us were going to be on Greg’s good list for a while.

Mary pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. Jackie told me not to call anyone, that she’d talk her way out of it, but then she didn’t come out. I waited in the car forever, but I was getting nervous.”

“You should have called anyway,” I chided, sounding more like a mom picking wayward teens up from their night of street racing than the two older women.

When Mary’s face crumpled into tears and she leaned against my shoulder, I knew I was preaching to the wrong party. “I know,” she sobbed into my T-shirt.

I passed her over to Amy. “Why don’t you wait here and I’ll go get Aunt Jackie. Amy can drive her car home and the two of you can ride with me.”
Where I can keep an eye out on you
was what I didn’t add.

I pulled the big doors open and stopped to drop my purse and clean out my pockets for the metal detector. Security had heightened even in little counties like ours. Although the last time someone had brought a gun into the courthouse, it had more to do with a cheating wife than terrorism. The guard nodded me through and I retrieved my items.

Greg had told me Aunt Jackie would be waiting for me at the county sheriff’s office. I checked the building directory and headed up to the second floor. When I reached the top of the stairs, the waiting room was crowded with women and children. Confused, I walked up to the desk. The officer sitting there must have been in her twenties, her dark hair pulled back into a severe bun. She looked up from her computer. “Sign the log and we’ll be starting visitation in ten minutes. You’re cutting it pretty close. I’m closing out the group right now. Did you bring your license?”

“I’m not here for visiting hours.” No wonder the room was filled. “I came to pick up my aunt? Jackie Ekroth. Greg King from South Cove talked to someone about her release?”

The woman focused on her computer. “Hold on. I’ve got to finish the visitation group, then I’ll get your aunt. I think she’s in the drunk tank.” The officer nodded to the rows of benches near the wall. “Have a seat. It will be a few minutes.”

I turned around and viewed the room. Finally, I spied a spot next to a young woman with a three-year-old at her feet and a crying baby on her lap. No wonder no one wanted to sit next to her.

When she looked at me, I nodded a greeting and smiled. “The baby is pretty.” Although really, all I could see was the red face scrunched up in an Amazonian yell.

The girl laughed. “She is, just not right now. I don’t understand why she always gets so upset when we visit Thom. It’s like she knows her daddy did a bad thing and she’s upset about it.”

“Daddy is in jail,” the little boy repeated. “He did a bad, bad thing.”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

The girl held out her hand. “I’m Mary Beth. This is my little boy, Jax, and the princess, Lizzie.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jill.” I guessed first-name anonymity at jail visitation was the protocol. “You have a beautiful family.”

“Thanks. I’m trying. As soon as Thom gets out, we’re going to move to Oregon and live on a farm. My uncle has already found us a place to live and Thom a job. I think getting him out of the area will help.”

“Sounds like you have a plan.” I smiled at the baby, who had stopped crying and was now staring at me, waving a chubby pink hand.

“It’s a new start.” She pushed her son’s hair out of his eyes and then asked, “What’s your man in for?”

“Oh, I’m not here to visit.” I wondered how much information this woman I’d just met would share with a total stranger. “I’m picking up.”

The girl looked at me, nodding. “You didn’t look like one of us.”

“Line up against the right wall for visitation,” a male guard called out and everyone stood, grabbing their children’s hands and stepping toward the line.

Mary Beth rose and took Jax’s hand. “Good luck with everything.” She smiled and then disappeared into the crowd.

When the room cleared, the woman at the desk waved me toward her. “She’s coming out now. You can meet her over at the left door.”

I stepped toward the steel door and waited. When it opened, Aunt Jackie emerged. She was dressed in black cashmere pants and a black sweater. Her normally poufed hair had been pulled back and she pulled a beanie out of her bag, covering her hair quickly. She was without makeup, and when she saw me, her face paled. “Jill, I didn’t expect you to be here. Where’s Mary?”

“She’s in the car with Amy. Give me your keys, you’re riding home with me so we can talk. Amy can drive your car back to South Cove.” My voice held a hint of displeasure. For the second time in less than a few minutes, I wondered why I was taking the parental role and how long it would be before it happened more often. My aunt was getting older, and I was her only relative. Could this be the start of some type of dementia?

As we walked out of the courthouse, Aunt Jackie dug in her purse for her sunglasses. “Hold up, can’t have the paparazzi recognizing me.”

Holding the door open, I groaned. “Seriously? You spend a night in jail and that’s all you got?”

Aunt Jackie strode past me. “I didn’t spend a night in jail. You need to get your facts straight. I’ve only been in the big house for”—she looked down to check her watch—“five hours. It would have been less if they would have let Mary bail me out.”

I herded her toward my car. “Why were you arrested anyway? What about your girls’ night out with Mary?”

We’d reached Mary and Amy by then, and Mary flew out of the car to hug my aunt. “I was so worried. I can’t believe you did all of this for me. You’re an amazing friend.”

“Wait, what did she do for you?” My Spidey sense was tickling.

Aunt Jackie shrugged and handed Amy her keys. “I’ll tell you on the way home. I seriously need a shower and a change of clothes after sitting on that awful cot for so long. And a bathroom. Did you know they have metal toilets in your cell? With absolutely no privacy? No way was I going to give the guards a peep show.” She stopped Mary. “Do you still have the notebook?”

Mary nodded and took a brown leather-covered notebook out of her purse and handed it to Aunt Jackie.

“This is going to fix everything, you’ll see.” Aunt Jackie hugged Mary and sent her off with Amy in the direction of her car.

When we got into the Jeep, I turned down the stereo. “You want to tell me what’s going on now?”

“Of course. We had to get evidence that Mary was swindled, and it’s all right here. That travel agency takes money up front, then refuses to book the trips without additional funds. More than a trip to the moon would cost.” She tapped the book. “The proof’s all right here.”

“Wait, you broke into a travel agency and stole their records?” I glanced in horror at the book in my aunt’s hands. The verification that could land her in jail for her breaking-and-entering charge. “Throw that out the window.”

“Now, Jill, don’t be silly. They aren’t going to charge me with B&E, because if they do, I’m going to prove they are crooks. This book”—she held it up for emphasis—“proves that they were scamming a lot more people than just poor Mary.”

“Why didn’t she use their regular agent? I don’t understand why she went with someone like this.” I kept my eyes on the narrow highway, wanting to stop at the beach and run some negative energy off, but I drove past the parking entrance and toward South Cove.

“Mary was trying to surprise Bill for their anniversary. Nice sentiment, but poor execution. She really does have a good heart.” Aunt Jackie turned and stared out the window. “Your uncle Ted gave me a cruise for our tenth anniversary, then one for every five years after. He called it our marital checkup time.”

“You still miss him.” I hadn’t really known Uncle Ted. He worked a lot of hours and wasn’t home the times I visited.

“Every day.” Aunt Jackie patted my leg. “Thanks for coming to save me. I suspect your boyfriend is a little miffed at me.”

“You and me both today.” I turned the Jeep onto Main Street and drove past my house. I’d turned a light on before I left, and the house glowed a friendly welcome. “He wants to talk to you before you head back to the apartment.”

“I figured. You don’t have to wait, my dear. I’ll have Amy leave my car at the station and I can drive it back to the apartment. Thanks for covering for me today.”

I should have walked her inside, but a part of me felt relief when she refused my company. “This is one conversation I need to have alone with our local detective.”

Waving to Amy, I drove back to the house, parked my Jeep, and unlocked my door. Emma was outside the back door, waiting for me. I let her in and went to the sink to get a glass of water.

My aunt had put herself in danger to help a friend. Was my playing investigator making her reckless, as well? Was I being reckless? I sat and stared at my list of suspects for Kent’s murder. I crossed off Evelyn Baker. After talking to her that morning, I knew she couldn’t hurt a fly. Maybe I should leave this investigation to Greg. He was a detective, after all.

I finished the water, locked up the house, and took a book upstairs with me to read myself to sleep. But sleep came late, long after I’d turned off the lamp near my bed.

 

The next morning, sunshine streamed into my bedroom window, waking me and letting me know I’d slept way too long. I needed to talk to Aunt Jackie. I needed to call Greg and let him know I wouldn’t be doing anything stupid ever again. I’d been on the other side of finding out someone you loved was taking risks with their life. I needed to go cold turkey from now on.

Emma raced me to the kitchen, where I let her out and made a pot of coffee. I’d just had time to brush my teeth and pull my hair into a ponytail when I heard the knock on the door. Greg stood on the porch, petting Emma when I peeked out the side window, another resolution I’d made in the wee hours of morning.

“What are you doing out so early?” I swung open the door and he stepped into the living room, pulling me into a tight hug and covering my mouth with his own.

When he pulled back, I saw the smile on his face. “Good morning, beautiful.”

A buzzing sound filled my ears, and all of a sudden, I was back in bed. Emma put her cold nose on my cheek, and my alarm was blaring. Greg’s kiss still felt warm on my lips. I needed to talk to him today. I dragged myself out of bed, the sunshine not warming my face as brightly as it had in my dream, and went to let Emma out, for what seemed to be the second time that morning.

I sat with my cup of coffee and made up a to-do list. I had to make a third trip into Bakerstown in the last two days, this time for groceries. My cupboard and Emma’s bag of dog food was down to crumbs. The only things I had in my fridge were the leftover cheesecakes I’d brought home from the store on Sunday and a bag of caramel-flavored coffee beans. I could make it another day or two, but Emma would be hunting down small animals in the yard. Which might just include Esmeralda’s cat, Maggie, if she pulled her Houdini act again today.

I planned for two weeks of healthy dinners, adding in a few necessities, like a bag of kettle-cooked chips and a few bags of fun-size candy bars. The only thing fun about the bags was how long it took you to unwrap the things. But I liked having one or two after a run, just to keep my blood sugar up.

Oh, the lies I told myself. I went through the kitchen, laundry room, and bathroom, to make sure I didn’t need any other supplies, and when I was done, I had a complete list.

I glanced at the clock. If I threw a load of laundry into the washer, I’d have time for a run with Emma to clear my head. Then I could stop by the police station, and with a bit of luck, Greg would be at his desk and we could talk.

The beach was empty, mostly due to the hour and the fact that the tourists this time of year tended to be weekenders. They were all back in their cubicles by now, making money for their next trip, while I got to enjoy the sound of the gulls and splashing waves any day of the week. After a few minutes, I let Emma off the leash and we ran side by side to the large rock. The cliffs started a few steps more and I sat on the beach, getting my breath back and watching Emma explore the water. The gulls kept flying over her, wondering what this dog was doing on their turf and probably hoping she’d find something they could eat after we left.

Sitting there, I thought about my dream that morning. I’d been convinced I needed to keep away from investigating, not only for my own sake, but for the people I loved. Greg would be happier, I knew that. And what kind of example was I setting for Aunt Jackie, who just got arrested for her own detective work? But I realized it didn’t matter. My natural curiosity was part of me. And probably something I’d inherited from my aunt. I knew what I was going to say to Greg this morning, and for once, I felt confident about the discussion.

Looking back on the Tiger book, its ideas had been out of my comfort zone, because they weren’t me. I wasn’t aggressive, or in your face. I was me. And that was enough. Curious, determined, headstrong, and caring. I stood up and brushed the sand off my running shorts. Maybe I had just found the secret to happiness: being true to yourself.

As Emma and I ran back to the parking lot and the rest of my day, I thought about what I enjoyed and hoped that Greg would see my epiphany as a good thing, rather than the straw that broke the camel’s back. Either way, we needed to talk.