Dressed To Kill (14 page)

“Are you kidding? As soon as I found it, I gave it to Mary and told her to sit in the car until I came back.” She squirmed a little in her seat. “Then as I was closing up the office, the police came and took me to jail. He must have some sort of silent alarm set up in that place, I didn’t even hear them arrive.”

“How did you get in?” Matt laid the book on his desk, slowly turning the pages.

When my aunt didn’t answer, he looked up from his studying. “As your attorney, I need to know the entire truth. If you need your niece to leave?”

“No.” Aunt Jackie put a hand on my arm. “Stay. Okay, so I went in to the office earlier and pretended to be looking for a vacation. When I left, I had the extra office key he kept in his desk in my purse.”

Matt shook his head. “You just happened to find the key?”

“Actually, Mary had seen him put it there when she was trying to get her money back. He’d given it to his secretary, and when she left for the day while Mary was in the office, she saw where he put the key.” Aunt Jackie made the whole plan seem reasonable. Which made me even more worried. She’d had a plan; this wasn’t a senior spur-of-the-moment action. She’d gone in knowing she was going to return and take the guy’s accounting book before she ever left South Cove.

“I need to know where the DA stands on the criminal charges first.” Matt put the book into an envelope and set it aside. “We’ll keep this just in case. But, Mrs. Ekroth, you have to realize, if they decide to go ahead with the charges, you may not be able to use a piece of stolen evidence for any leverage to help your friend or the others the man swindled.”

“Please, call me Jackie. I know it was a risk, but you have to press on, no matter what happens to me.” Aunt Jackie sat taller, even more determined.

I took her hand and squeezed. “Let’s let Matt do his magic and maybe he can find a way to keep you out of prison.”

“That’s the hope.” Matt stood and reached out his hand. “I’m good at what I do, Jackie. Let’s see if that’s enough.”

Aunt Jackie dug in her purse and pulled out a business card. “Mary Sullivan’s private line. Please don’t discuss this with her husband; he doesn’t know about the issue.”

As we waited for the elevator, I watched my aunt. She didn’t look fazed at all, except a slight tremor in her hand as she patted her hair into place for the third time. “Bill doesn’t know about any of this?”

“How could he? The trip was a surprise, and once the money was gone, Mary didn’t know what to do. That’s her inheritance from her late mother.”

“I hope Matt can get it back for her.” The elevator doors opened, and we stepped into the empty car.

“I’m counting on it,” Aunt Jackie said, and our gazes met in the reflective surface as the doors closed.

A
my sat on her regular stool, watching me prep the shop for the upcoming day. “I can’t believe Jackie might have to go to jail for this. Did you tell her lawyer about the travel scams?”

I stacked a sleeve full of cups near the coffeemaker. “Believe me, he knows everything. And now, so do I. What in the world was she thinking? You can’t solve problems by committing new crimes.”

“You have to give her credit, at least her heart was in the right place. Jackie and Mary have become close over the last year. You’d break into a business to help me out, right?” Amy sipped her hot chocolate and watched me over the lid.

“No, I don’t think so. And if I did, I’d bring Greg along with me to make the break-in a semilegal search.” I laughed and poured my own cup of coffee, walking around to sit next to my best friend. “Who am I kidding? Of course I’d do exactly what Jackie did for Mary. What does that say about my character?”

“That you value your friendships over trivialities.”

“Trivialities like private property and breaking-and-entering charges.” I sighed, setting the coffee down untouched. “I’m worried, Amy. What if she has to go to jail? She’s not a strong woman.”

Amy touched my arm. “Your aunt is the strongest woman I know. Besides, she’s not going to jail for trying to stop some lowlife from ripping off Mary. I have friends in the media. We can rally popular support for her. Just say the word.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” I nodded at Amy’s phone. “You talk to Justin lately?”

“Not for a couple of days. He’s texted, but he took off work and went home for a short trip. His mom’s really nice. She probably told him if he didn’t show up at her house, she would come to his. He says she worries.” Amy stared at the phone, and I could tell she was wishing it would ring. “I should have been more supportive, I guess.”

“You didn’t know how much finding Kent would affect him.” I felt bad that I had made fun of Justin myself, but I wasn’t his girlfriend.

“I guess.” Amy straightened her back and looked at me, an idea forming in her head. “So what does Greg say about who killed Kent? Is he ready to throw the guilty party into jail?”

“Greg doesn’t talk about suspects with me. You may want to hang around and see if you can charm some intel from Toby, though.” I took a sip of my coffee. “Every time I think I might have a viable suspect for him, the lead peters out.”

“Like Evelyn Baker?” Amy finished off her coffee. “Too bad we can’t blame this on Mayor Baylor. He and Tina are gone on a weeklong cruise, and you know she’s going to want me to make up her scrapbook when she returns. Digital
and
print.”

“Oh, the life of a small town city planner.” I put the back of my hand on my forehead. “At least they are out of your hair. You can count that as your vacation, too.”

“So true.” Amy stood and headed to the exit. “Time to make the donuts.”

I watched my friend slip out the doorway, just as Leslie, Anne, and a couple of the bank tellers I didn’t know walked in the café. “Good morning. I just stocked the display case this morning with an assortment of cheesecakes and some brownies the bakery swears will replace your need for sex for a week.”

One of the girls nudged Anne. “You better get a couple of those brownies now that your on-the-side guy is harassing the angels.”

“Ruth, that’s mean.” Leslie put her arm around Anne and nodded toward the table. “You two go sit down, and I’ll buy the coffee with an assortment of pastries. Deal?”

Ruth and the still unnamed woman claimed a table in a sunny spot in front of the window. I opened the display case and held up a pair of tongs. “What can I plate up for you?”

“Just give us four pieces, doesn’t matter. And two large coffees, a large mocha, and a skinny latte.” Leslie dug in her purse while I pulled out three cheesecake slices—traditional, pumpkin marble, and a new chocolate mousse that was heavenly. When I reached for a peanut butter pie, a hand stilled my movement.

“Dish up one of those brownies. Ruth may be crass, but she’s right on one point. My body is missing Kent more than my mind.” Anne’s voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper.

Not knowing what to say to that, I grabbed two of the brownies. “One on the house.” Then I went to make the drinks.

“So glad the auditors showed up today for a vault audit.” Leslie opened her purse. “We’ll get paid for the time they’re there, and then they’ll reimburse me for the money I spent on this.”

“Did you all get to leave?” Somehow I hadn’t thought they’d kick out the employees while they counted the money.

Leslie laughed. “Everyone but the new branch manager they brought in from corporate.”

“It should have been you. You did Kent’s job for years without the recognition. Now with him gone, the job should have been yours. But no, they bring in some twelve-year-old who doesn’t know a thing about management.” Anne’s voice was harder now.

I put the last coffee on the tray and ripped off my gloves. Ringing up the order, I shook my head. “I was a cubicle dweller for ten years before I dropped out and bought this place. Promoting the wrong person is a grand tradition in corporate law.”

Leslie handed me the credit card. “No matter. I’m a few years away from retirement, they pay me well, and when the day’s done, I get to go home to my husband. Kent put in too many hours at that job to make it look enticing.”

“It’s still not fair. You should sue the bank.” Anne wasn’t giving up, not yet.

I ripped off the receipt and gave the slip and a pen to Leslie. After she signed, she picked up the tray.

“I can deliver those.” I stuffed the receipt in the drawer and reached forward.

Leslie moved faster than I’d imagined the larger woman could. “You didn’t know I was a waitress for ten years, did you?” She smiled at me and the two walked back to the sunny table.

As I watched the women talk, I realized I’d missed a chance to talk to Anne about her frogs. I studied the woman. She’d lost even more weight since the last time she’d come in the shop. All over a man. She’d been in love with the guy and he’d just used her. Kent had a lot to answer for as he stood in front of Saint Peter.

The door flew open and Darla strolled in, directly toward me.

“Uh-oh.” I let the words escape before I realized I’d spoken.

“Now, why do you look so worried?” Darla smiled as she climbed on a stool. “Pour me a cup of coffee and come sit with me. I’ve got an idea.”

“That sounds ominous,” I replied, but I poured her coffee and one for myself. Typically midmornings were slow and the bank crowd might be my only customers, especially on a Wednesday.

Darla sipped the black liquid and sighed. “No matter how I try, I can’t make coffee as good as you do. What’s your secret?”

“The beans. We have a magic coffee bean tree that sprouts at night in the parking lot behind the store. We pick our beans right before midnight for best results.” I sipped my own cup and watched her.

“You’re a funny girl. I should have given you a bigger part in the murder mystery play.” Darla pulled a piece of bright pink card stock out of her satchel. “Put this up in your window.”

I glanced at the announcement and frowned. “We’re doing the dinner theater next week? Don’t you think that’s a little insensitive?”

“Then I won’t invite his ex-wife or girlfriends.” The edges of Darla’s lips curled as she let the words register. I looked up in shock. “Don’t look like that. I am a journalist, for goodness’ sake. Did you and Greg think you could keep Kent’s love life a secret?”

Memories of Greg’s fury over Darla’s front-page reporting of the murder tugged at my mind. He’d thought she had an informant on the police payroll. Could I figure out who was feeding her spicy tidbits by playing along? I decided being coy wasn’t one of my strong points. “Whatever.” I tapped my nail on the poster. “I don’t know, we haven’t even had a full run-through of the play yet.”

“You’re reading my mind.” Darla glanced at the impromptu bank meeting near the window. She reached into the satchel, pulled out a notebook, and uncapped her pen. “Practice is tonight at seven. You think your guy will be available? Or is he chasing some hot lead?”

“Good try, but I’m not giving you anything.” I amended my statement. “Even if I did know anything. Greg’s been holding his facts close to the vest on this one.”

“You mean his cards.”

I scrunched my face, not understanding what cards had to do with a murder investigation. “What?”

“The saying is, he holds his cards close to his vest.” Scribbling in her notebook, she waved me off. “Never mind. Just be at the winery at seven tonight. I’ll buy the beer.”

I watched as Darla picked up her coffee and strolled over to the table filled with the bank employees. I was too far away to hear what she said, but the group laughed and Darla pulled up a chair. I’d never seen her in action before, except when she was trying to needle me for information. I sat down on the couch to read until someone needed me, losing interest in Darla and her new friends somewhere around page 4 in the mystery.

When Toby arrived to take over, the shop was empty and I’d read about half of the book. “Research or marketing?”

Smiling, I slipped a bookmark between the pages and closed the book. “I believe I’ll charge my time to research this morning.” Jackie had set up a “slow time survey,” trying to see who and when someone stocked the pastry display, completed marketing activities, or did research for new books and coffee delights. My reading fell into two of those categories, even if I didn’t explain exactly how I used my time on her survey. I believed she had a clue, though. Toby looked tired this morning. “Rough night? Too many DUIs?”

“Nah, Greg had me reading through old case files to see if we could match the toxin he found . . .” He paused. “You’re good. All concerned about me and then I’ll spill a tidbit or two. You should go work with Darla at the newspaper.”

“All I wanted to know was that you’re okay.” I grabbed my purse out of the office, ignoring the jacket Toby had thrown on my desk. “You’re the one who went all detailed on me. Haven’t you ever heard that when someone’s asking about your health, nine times out often, they really don’t care?”

“Aw, boss, don’t go all warm and mushy on me. You’ll give me false hope.”

I paused on my way out the door. “False hope about what?”

“That you really have a heart.” Toby grinned and started restocking the dessert display case, something I should have done instead of reading.

Walking back home, I called Greg, but then hung up the phone before he could answer. The way he felt about our parts in the mystery play, I’d better deliver this news in person. I entered City Hall through the side door, where the police station had its offices. They had a back door for officers and the occasional lawbreaker to enter, but this door took me directly to the reception area and Esmeralda.

“Jill, I didn’t expect to see you today,” Esmeralda chirped, then held up a hand halting my response. “South Cove Police Dispatch, how may I help you?”

I thumbed through the magazines on the rack, finding mostly old copies of
Guns & Ammo
and a few
House Beautiful
issues. I made a mental note to bring over some of my own magazines that had started to stack up on the floor of my office for when I had time to read them, which would probably be never. I watched Esmeralda handle the call and wondered about her greeting. Wouldn’t a real fortune-teller know when she was going to see someone? Or was I thinking of a psychic? Could Esmeralda see the future? Or were her powers limited to the range of the crystal ball?

Smiling, I twisted these thoughts around until I heard my name.

“Jill, are you all right?” Esmeralda appeared concerned.

I dropped the magazine I’d been flipping through and walked back to the reception desk. “Sorry, I got lost in the article.”

Her eyes narrowed and she grunted. “Right. You don’t have to lie to me.”

“Really. It was about a local hunting area.” I dug my hole deeper and she continued to stare. “Whatever. Is Greg busy?”

Esmeralda pointed to the closed office door. “Barricaded himself in the office this morning with a pile of files that Toby gathered for him last night. I’m sure he’d welcome a distraction.”

I stepped toward the door, but stopped when she continued.

“I don’t need the crystal ball to see the future. Sometimes I just like to be polite and not freak people out.”

I turned and saw she was smiling, but something in her face registered a feeling of sadness.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have . . .” I started.

She waved her hand toward me, mirroring my own response. “Whatever.”

As I opened the door to Greg’s office, I thought about Esmeralda and her life here in South Cove. And for the first time, I realized I’d never seen her with a friend or even on a date. I’d assumed my neighbor was a recluse by nature, but maybe she was trying to reach out. That would explain the campy friends song she kept repeating when she did my readings. Or it could have been a warning about Aunt Jackie.

My head hurt, so I pushed both ideas away and put on a smile I didn’t feel for Greg.

“Uh-oh.” He stared at me as I walked in. “What’s going on?”

Slipping into one of his office chairs, I frowned. “Why does it have to be a bad thing if I stop to see my boyfriend on the way home from work?”

“Mostly because you have that smile on your face, which usually means you did something that I need to clean up.” He studied me, then checked the clock. “You haven’t been interviewing my potential suspects again, have you?”

“The day’s early, but no.” This time my smile was genuine. “Actually, I do have a favor, or really, just a favor you’ve already granted.”

“Do I want to know this favor?” Greg’s voice sounded gravelly, like he’d been drinking coffee and smoking all night. Except he didn’t smoke.