Dressed To Kill (5 page)

Crap.
Instead of running out the door, which is what every cell of my body was screaming for me to do, I settled into a chair. Glancing around the room, I asked the only question I could think of, “So, you have a reading tonight? I thought you only did the fortune-teller thing on weekends?”

She chuckled. “Normally, I only have appointments on the weekend, but a good client asked for a favor. She’s out of town with her family this weekend and needed some guidance before she left.” Esmeralda’s face contorted in a look that appeared to be worry. “I feel like she’s gotten herself into a mess. One I warned her against.”

“Sometimes people don’t listen.”

She focused back on me. “Out of the mouths of babes.”

Okay, this was getting creepy. I tried to change the subject. “You busy at the office these days?”

“The current case is very interesting.” Esmeralda tapped her apparently now dry fingertips on the table. “I believe your Greg is going to have some hard choices to make in the near future. Are you willing to support him?”

“Look, I really don’t like to talk about my relationship with Greg. Some things are private, you know?”

She nodded. “I understand your reluctance. Let me do a quick reading with you. I’ve never looked at your future before.” She held out her palm. “Give me your left hand.”

“I really can’t stay.”

Her hand grabbed mine in a tight grip. “Let me thank you for bringing back my Maggie. Please?”

I blew out air a little too hard but sat back in my chair. “Go ahead.”

“You give up too easily.” Esmeralda’s grip loosened. She stared into the crystal ball and the thing started to cloud.

This can’t be real.
I stared into the mist, certain I could see the telltale signs of trickery. “I’d say I pick my battles carefully.”

She chuckled. “You let things boil up, then you blow.”

With my free hand, I pointed at the ball. “You can see that in there?”

“Jill, we live in a small town. There isn’t anything about your daily life, or your history for that matter, that doesn’t come up in gossip somewhere.” She nodded back to the glowing orb on the table. “Now, be quiet so the spirits can reach me.”

“Sorry.” I wished I could take back the word as soon as I saw her grin. Crap, she had me nailed on that personality trait. I’d always been the one to get along. My mom said I’d follow a crowd off the cliff if it meant I could be part of the group.

She waved her free left hand over the ball in the center of the small table. “Oh, spirits, please answer our pleas. Show us what we need to see. Show us the future to keep us safe. Honor your living children here on this plain.”

The table shook under my hands. When I looked up at Esmeralda to see if she’d felt the mini-earthquake, her eyes were cloudy, like the ball. “Are you okay?”

“You’ll need to see past your pain in order to save the ones you love.” Her voice cracked and had dropped a couple of octaves. “Things aren’t what they seem.”

I pressed my lips together, holding back a wisecrack. Typical fortune-teller speak. No real surprises here.

“Some are silver, the other gold,” Esmeralda whispered and her head dropped. Our session was over.

A
s Emma and I ran the next morning, I thought about my “reading.” Or at least the things Esmeralda had said before she went into her trance and started chanting camp songs. I’d been challenged by the partners at the law firm that I wasn’t strong enough. I’d had coworkers take my prime cases in the guise of helping out, then when the partners praised them in our weekly meetings, realized that somehow they’d become first chair on a case I’d brought to the firm. After the last incident I’d stormed into my mentor’s office and listed out all the inequities I’d had to face during my tenure. The woman smiled and nodded during my tirade.

“I wondered when you’d see what was happening.” Her words stung. Had I been blind or naïve, allowing my peers to step over me and expecting someone else to stand up for my interests? She poured me another cup of coffee. “The only one who is looking out for you in this world is you. The other associates understand that. The partners want what’s best for the firm. You need to stand for what’s best for you.”

Thinking back over the last few years, I realized I’d changed my pattern, along with the rest of my life. Today I wouldn’t roll like a well-worn tire. I’d do what I wanted, when I wanted. Now, all I had to do was figure out what it was I wanted. Crap, I sounded like a case study for all those self-help books I stocked. After the local history and tourist books, the “charm books” I called them, I sold more self-help tomes than any other specific category. How to find your Zen. How to raise a normal teenager. How to get that next promotion. Everyone wanted the easy answer. Bless the midday talk shows.

Maybe there was one that addressed my problems. Like
How to Grow a Backbone
.

By the time we’d returned home and I’d showered, my mood was less than cheerful. Typically my run cleared my mind of all the doubts I carried around. Today, it had added to them.

I let Emma out to the yard, checked on her food and water, then power-walked into the shop, determined to seek out a book that could help me find my inner goddess.

Toby looked up as I entered the shop. He’d been reading the newspaper and the shop was empty, a typical early morning shift. “You know you’re off today, right?”

I stepped over to the counter. “Can’t a girl get a coffee without getting the third degree?”

“A girl, sure. You, on the other hand, must have a reason to leave your cozy house before noon.” He started a skinny mocha for me. “Everything okay?”

When Toby’s gaze didn’t meet my eyes, I started doubting my impulse. I should have waited until tomorrow, and no one would have been the wiser.

After pulling off the two psychobabble books on the shelf that dealt with displaying confidence in relationships and finding your Zen, I glanced at my watch. Too early to call Amy for lunch, but I could stop by on my way home and visit for a few minutes. Besides, Greg hadn’t called last night, so I was beginning to think that Darla’s nose for news had been spot-on with Kent’s murder.

“You want this to go?” Toby glanced at the books under my arm. “You doing some light reading today?”

I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “Let’s just say, I’ve been told I roll too fast when challenged. I figure learning some new tricks might not be a bad idea.”

“Jackie been giving you trouble again?” He poured my mocha in a travel mug and handed it to me. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are. And I know one more person who’d say the same thing.”

“I love that author.” Leslie from the bank tapped the top book titled
Be a Tiger, Not a Kitty Cat,
or what I would subtitle, “How to Be a Predatory Animal in the Office.” “We had the author come in for a bank conference I went to last summer. She’s a pistol. Doesn’t take crap from anyone.”

The lady standing next to her nodded. “She told her manager to get his stuff together or she was reporting him to the corporate office. She got fired and sued the company. Then she wrote the book. I think she speaks all over the nation.”

Great, I’d run into a true believer. I smiled. “Thanks for the reference. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

The other woman shook her head. “I hated the book. I guess I’m just not that type of person. I’m not someone who would get in anyone’s face.”

“Anne, you’re too nice. You should have sued Kent last summer when he started hitting on you.” Leslie leaned closer to the table. “He was a pig. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I swear to God, the man should have been shot years ago.”

“Leslie.” Anne’s face scrunched together, and I could see she was fighting tears. The woman’s blond hair was cut in a cute pixie. Not the redhead I’d seen Kent sucking face with in the car at the beach. The man
was
a pig, Leslie had gotten that part right.

“Two large coffees and two slices of that black forest cheesecake.” Leslie put her hand on her friend’s arm. “I’ll get Anne settled at a table and be right back to pay.”

Toby watched the two walk away. “I wonder if Greg knows about her. Man, that guy made me look like a choirboy.”

“I take it you didn’t know about his multiple friends.” I kept my voice low and watched as Leslie and Anne argued quietly at the far table. “She doesn’t look like Kent’s type.”

“I think she looks exactly like his type. Female. The man was a horndog, plain and simple. Sherry’s better off without him, even though from what Greg says, she’s pretty broken up about the whole thing.”

I wanted to ask more about what they’d talked about, but the good side of me told me to trust my boyfriend. Greg hadn’t called last night because he was busy with the case, that was all. Still, I stalled. “So what’s going on with the case? I didn’t hear from your boss last night.”

Toby held his hands up in mock surrender. “No way. You’re not getting me to tell you anything. Last time, Greg sat me down and explained confidentiality to me. For an hour. If you want gossip, you’re going to have to go directly to the source.”

“Who said I wanted gossip?” I tried to sound casual, but Toby just laughed. “What?”

“You don’t have an innocent look. Except for when you’re clueless about something. You want to know if Kent died of natural causes? You call Greg.”

“Like he’s going to tell me anything,” I muttered under my breath. I glanced over at the table where Leslie and Anne were still arguing. “Seems like something struck a nerve there.”

“Best Friend Bulldog Syndrome. They always have that one friend who will try to show them that the guy they’re dating is the devil.” He grinned. “And typically, they’re right, especially in this case.”

“I take it you’ve run into this syndrome a time or two.”

He shrugged. “A few times. I can’t say they were wrong, either. I was a pretty free spirit, but some of the chicks I dated, they thought the fun was going to end with a ring on their finger. I just knew the fun was going to end.”

“Pig.” I smiled to soften the word.

He held up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute. “Reformed pig. Elisa has me tied around her little finger.”

A noise drew my attention. Leslie stood behind me, her usually friendly face a mask. “Those coffees ready yet? We only have a short break.”

Toby handed her the two coffees and nodded to the tray he’d placed the plates with the cheesecake on while we were talking. “I can carry this out for you.”

Leslie flushed and set the coffees on the tray. “I can do it myself.”

The bell over the door rang, and three of Toby’s regulars from the cosmetology school entered the shop giggling and heading straight to the counter.

“Looks like you’re going to be busy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I tucked the books under my arm and nodded to the women who were heading to the counter. “Good morning.”

My greeting was lost as the three dashed to Toby. I opened the door onto the sunny spring day and headed down to talk to my own BFF. If she’d gotten to work today.

As I passed Antiques by Thomas, Kyle Nabors greeted me as he swept the sidewalk. Kyle had been the intern Josh had reluctantly taken on over Christmas for the Work Today program in Bakerstown. Like Sasha, Kyle had been offered a real job because of this placement. I noticed Kyle had dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt today, a far cry from the leather and studs he’d shown up with last December.

“Hey, Miss Gardner.” Kyle put his hand on the top of the broomstick and paused. “I didn’t think you worked on Fridays.”

Did I mention South Cove was a small town? Seriously, where else would I be questioned about being out and about before noon on my day off? I held up the books. “Just stopped by for a bit of light reading.”

He laughed. “Light reading is my stack of comic books. That looks more like you’re taking a class over at the university.”

“I read fast. It’s a side benefit from owning a bookstore.” I nodded toward the store. “How are things going with Josh? You two getting along?”

“Mr. Thomas is amazing. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff he knows about antiques and shit.” Kyle reddened. “I mean stuff. Don’t tell Mr. Thomas I swore. He’s been on my case about my language lately. He says I need to learn to be polite in any situation in order to be a good salesman.”

I bit my lip. Josh Thomas was the very opposite of polite. Cold, demeaning, rude even at times, Kyle’s boss was teaching his student something Josh needed to learn, as well. “No worries.” I waved my hand to brush the words away. “He won’t hear it from me.”

Kyle beamed. “Thanks. I love working here. Josh says on Monday I get to go with him to an estate auction up the coast. He’s scoped the offerings and says we’ll make a killing if we get the lot.”

Now, that sounded more like the Josh Thomas I knew. “I’ll let you get back to your work then.”

“I’m supposed to sweep the sidewalk three times a day when I’m working. I can’t believe how fast the trash builds up. Have you seen the pictures Mr. Thomas took with the piles of trash?”

I looked down and saw a Coffee, Books, and More logo on a disposable cup in the gutter. “I guess my store isn’t helping.” I grabbed the cup and put it in the trash bag next to Kyle.

“Not your fault the customers are slobs.” He grinned, then lowered his voice. “No matter what Mr. Thomas says.”

I said my good-byes and made a mental note to fill the agenda for the next Business-to-Business meeting with anything but Josh’s agenda items. He had gotten his five minutes under Sherry’s agenda. I’d make sure he wouldn’t get the chance again.

You’re being childish.
I swept the good angel off my shoulder. I hadn’t even opened the self-help books, and I was already making better decisions. Look out, South Cove, Jill Gardner was on a roll.

Amy glanced at the clock when I stopped in front of her desk. “What are you doing out this early?”

Seriously, I needed to mix up my schedule more. I shrugged. “Wanted to see how Justin was today.”

“I haven’t heard from him since he left the apartment about noon yesterday. He doesn’t drink more than a couple of glasses of wine or a beer or two usually. I don’t think the boy has had a hangover since college.” She snuck a peek at the closed door of the mayor’s office. “Man, Marvin was hot this morning when I came in. I guess he had to answer the phone all day yesterday because Esmeralda told him the calls coming in to his office weren’t part of her job duties.”

“I bet that went over well.” I kept my voice low, not wanting the mayor to hear us talking. I didn’t need a dose of Mayor Baylor today.

“He’s got me putting an amendment to the police dispatcher’s job description into the city council agenda next week. Of course, Greg is going to fight it. He says Esmeralda can’t be expected to juggle everyday calls and emergencies at the same time. And right now, the council loves your boyfriend.” Amy looked at the clock again and sighed. “So, no lunch at Lille’s today?”

I thought about my plans to do laundry and drive into Bakerstown for groceries. And clean the bathroom. When I reached that item on my to-do list, I made a quick decision. “I’ll meet you in our regular booth at eleven o’clock.”

“Not feeling the housework list?” Amy guessed.

“Exactly.” I nodded to the hallway leading to the police department. “Is Greg in yet?”

Amy frowned. “I haven’t seen him. Esmeralda said he was heading over to Bakerstown to see Doc Ames this morning.”

Interesting.
“Did she say why? Is this about Kent?”

Amy scanned the still-empty waiting room, lowering her voice. “I don’t know. What have you heard?”

I sighed. “Nothing. Darla thinks it’s murder, but you know Darla. She’s always looking for a juicy story for the
Examiner
.”

“Well, I haven’t heard anything, but I was out yesterday. According to Esmeralda, Greg wasn’t around much yesterday at all.” Amy cocked her head. “What did he say at dinner?”

“I didn’t see him last night.” My Spidey senses started to tingle.

Amy’s eyebrows raised, just a bit. “I thought you guys always ate together, at least dinner.”

“Not when he’s on a case.”
Or avoiding me
, I added in my inside voice.

Crap. There I went again, thinking the worst. I squared my shoulders and put on a smile I didn’t feel. “I’m sure he’s just busy.”

Amy opened her mouth, then the buzzer on her phone interrupted.

“Did the mail come yet?” Mayor Baylor’s voice echoed through the empty room.

After rolling her eyes, she pushed a button. “You know it doesn’t arrive until after ten. Jillian doesn’t even open the post office until nine.”

“I told her we needed to be the first stop. I’ve got important things to do. I can’t be waiting on a postal carrier strolling around town gawking at the sites.” The intercom button went dark.

“I’d better get on the phone and see what’s holding up the mayor’s mail.” Amy laughed. “See you at Lille’s.”

I left City Hall wondering what the mayor could be expecting. Most of my snail mail now was junk or bills. I got most of my correspondence from friends through e-mail. Although the historical commission always sent their semiannual “we’re working on your application” letter through the mail. Still, the only news they would provide was a generic status that wasn’t worth the cost of the stamp.