Dressed To Kill (8 page)

Walking out the door, a brand-new novel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, I took a deep breath, enjoying the clean salt air breeze. If Greg wasn’t sitting on the porch waiting for me when I returned home, I planned to take a blanket and a thermos of iced tea down to the beach. Emma could run in the waves chasing seagulls and I could lose myself in the second book of the new mystery series I’d found this week. One of the members of Aunt Jackie’s mystery group had ordered the whole series last week, so I’d ordered a second copy for my research. Referrals from that group were gold. They knew how to pick a story.

As I passed by Antiques by Thomas, a child’s school desk in the window display caught my eye. Polished walnut and about three feet high, the desk had to have been in one of the old schoolhouses. When Josh Thomas pulled open the wooden door, the top bell clanging, he stopped short.

“Can I help you with something, Miss Gardner?” Josh’s words were friendly, but the tone he delivered them with could freeze butter.

I decided to ignore his bad humor. I pointed to the desk. “Where did you get that?”

He labored closer to the window and peered into the crowded display. “Which
that
are you referring to? There are several items on display.”

“The desk. The one for kids?” I tapped the glass with my finger.

Josh pulled out a handkerchief and polished the area where my finger had touched the glass. “If you must know, I came across that particular desk at an estate sale north of here. The former owner claimed the desk was from the first schoolhouse in Idaho. Somewhere in the Lewiston area, I believe.”

My heart sank. If the desk really was historic, no way would Josh let me buy it for a few dollars. He’d be reaching out to the historical commissions and museums that dealt with that type of find. “I guess you want a lot for it, huh?” Then my evil side kicked in without me even batting an eye. “Aunt Jackie had her heart set on putting it in the children’s book section of the store. You know, so they could pretend to be in school, reading a book?”

“Oh, Jackie wants the desk?” Josh shrugged, an action that made his belly jiggle even through the black mortician’s suit he always wore. I didn’t remember ever seeing him in anything but a suit. Maybe he even slept in the thing. “I said the previous owner claimed the desk was authentic. My research has put it more in the range of desks used in the nineteen-sixties.”

I was going to hell for using the offer of my aunt’s affections to barter a cheaper price. Yet I pushed harder. “So it’s reasonable? I’d sure like to make Aunt Jackie happy. You know how she gets when she doesn’t get her way.” I held up my hands. “Not that I would blame you in any way for the desk being too expensive. A man’s got to make a profit. Aunt Jackie just doesn’t understand business.”

“You really shouldn’t talk that way about her. Jackie is an amazing woman.” He stopped, his face beet red. “I could let it go for three hundred dollars.”

“Two-fifty?” I hated to spend money on an impulse buy, but the desk would look so cute in the shop.

“Miss Gardner, this isn’t an auction.” Josh glared at me. I let my shoulders drop and heaved a sigh worthy of an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. His eyes flickered to the apartment over the shop. A perfect place for him to play Romeo to Aunt Jackie’s Juliet, except she was more of a modern theater girl.

I stepped around him and he grabbed my arm. “Fine, you’re killing me, but if I don’t take any profit, I could let it go for two-seventy-five. That’s my bottom. Take it or leave it.”

Smiling, I nodded to the desk. “Slap a sold sign on that puppy. I’ll bring over a check on Tuesday as soon as Toby starts his shift.”

“We have a deal?” Josh peered at me through his half-closed eyelids.

“Do I need to sign something? I’ll uphold my half of the bargain; you just don’t sell the desk out from under me.”

He nodded. “I’ll trust you.”

I thought about Josh’s ending words all the way home. Was our bond becoming more than the annoying shopkeeper next door? Was his and Jackie’s relationship turning more serious than I knew? I mentally added
call Jackie
to my to-do list. I didn’t want to be blindsided if Josh Thomas was soon to be Uncle Josh. The thought made me shiver.

When I reached the house, Greg’s truck was in my driveway. He sat on the top step of the front porch, reading the
Examiner
. My dog slept at his feet. Smiling, he folded the paper when I walked up. “I would have picked you up at the shop, but when I called, Toby said you’d left ten minutes ago. Take the long way home?”

I kissed him and sat down beside him. “Shopping.”

He frowned and looked closer at the only thing I had carried from the shop, my purse. “You shop light.”

“Actually, I shop heavy.” I went on to tell him about the new addition to the kids’ area for the shop. “I think the kids will love it.”

Greg nodded. “You could paint that short wall under the windows with chalkboard paint and the kids could draw, too.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” I thought about the corner of the shop where the kids hung out, reading books. It was small, but it might just work. “And we could advertise sales on the board.”

“I guess so.” He chuckled. “You’re always thinking like a business owner.”

“And what, you think like a dad?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. We hadn’t even talked about marriage, let alone kids.

“It’s possible.” He stood up before I could say anything else. “Come have lunch with me in Bakerstown. I have to pick up some supplies for the station and I’m tired of staring at a whiteboard that’s not giving me answers, just more questions.”

“So,” I started but Greg stopped me, holding up his hand.

“I’ll buy you lunch at that seafood place you love on one condition. No talk about the case. No questions, no comments, nothing. We’re just a couple having lunch.”

“Anything I want on the menu?” I raised my eyebrows.

He reached down and gave Emma a rub under her chin. “Anything. I need some time away from this to try to get clarity from all the white noise.”

“What if I slip and ask you a question, like, was Kent murdered?”

Greg didn’t look up. “Then you get a hamburger off the value menu at my choice of fast-food joints.”

The man knew my weakness. Ply me with food, especially seafood, and you could have anything. I pretended to consider the offer, pushing out my bottom lip.

“Get in the truck. You know you want to.” He pulled me into his arms, then leaned down and lightly bit my lip. When I complained, he laughed. “I’ve missed you.”

As we drove toward the highway, I stared at Esmeralda’s house. Her driveway was filled with cars, and there were several parked on the street. “She’s having a reading today?”

Greg glanced at the house as we passed. “Some guy’s family is here for his birthday. She says they need to help the guy cross over because he’s stuck here.” Greg finally noticed now that I was staring at him, not the fortune-teller’s house. He blushed. “Sue me, I get bored at the station sometimes and overhear my staff’s phone conversations. It’s not like she was being quiet about the whole thing.”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh. For all his lectures to me about confidentiality, my boyfriend was one of the biggest gossips in town. If it didn’t deal with official police business. “Hey, did I tell you she did a reading on me last week when I dropped off Maggie?”

“Who’s Maggie?” Greg turned the car north onto the highway.

“Esmeralda’s new cat. She showed up when I was napping the other day.” I pulled my hair into a ponytail and rolled down the window, enjoying the wind.

“Oh. So what is up next for you? A fortune awaits you? Travel is in your future? It better not be a new love. I’d hate to have to fire her.” He took my hand in his and squeezed.

“Nope.” I put a waver in my voice. “Things aren’t what they seem. And the old favorite, some are silver and the others gold.”

“Why does that sound familiar?”

“It’s an old Girl Scouts camp song.” I stared out Greg’s window, watching the waves in the distance. Living by the ocean never got old. I felt sorry for the people who lived in land-locked states. What did they do to revive themselves?

Greg drove in silence for a while. Then he muttered, “Things aren’t what they seem, that describes this case to a tee. I wonder if I’m not the only one listening in on others’ conversations.”

I turned my attention from the flock of seagulls back to him. “What are you saying?”

He tossed the paper over to me. “Someone’s been talking to the press about confidential police matters.”

I only had to read the headline before I knew what had Greg upset. Darla’s byline was under the two-inch headline I read aloud. “Killer Leaves No Clues—Police Stumped.”

T
he cab of the truck was silent as I read Darla’s exposé on the investigation into Kent’s murder. She had included several quotes from an undisclosed member of the police department. When I finished, I folded the paper and set it between the two of us.

“You don’t have anything to say?” Greg slowed the truck to make the turn onto the road that would take us to Bakerstown and away from the ocean.

“I really want a bowl of that clam chowder. It’s been months.” I tapped the paper with my unpolished fingernail. “I don’t break deals.”

Greg barked out a short laugh. “Since when?” He ran a hand through his sandy hair. “Fine, we can talk about Kent. Who do you thing is spilling to Darla?”

“Doesn’t seem like Esmeralda’s style.” I thought about Toby and Tim, the only other official employees of the department. “Toby won’t even talk to me about what’s going on. No way would he talk to Darla. So that leaves you or Tim.”

“And it’s not me.” Greg sighed. “Tim’s my guess, too.”

I thought about the tall, lanky man who wasn’t much more than a kid, straight out of college and a criminal justice major. Honestly, it didn’t seem like his style, either. The kid was too into the rules to break them just for some press time. Something Esmeralda said the other day nagged at me. Then I remembered. “What if Darla’s just observing the obvious?”

“What do you mean?” Greg pulled into the parking lot of the seafood restaurant, the site of our first date. Of course, I hadn’t realized it was a date back then.

I slipped out of the truck before I answered. “Esmeralda said living in a small town, you start knowing people. Maybe Darla just knows how you’ll react when a murder happens versus when someone dies by accident. Maybe your actions, like driving in to meet Doc Ames or spending more time at the station, tells her a story.”

“Plausible, but I’m still going to talk to Tim. Just in case.” He held the door of the restaurant open and smiled. “After you.”

“You’re such a gentleman.”

“I just don’t want to be trampled when you smell the bread.” Greg nodded to the hostess. “Two for lunch.”

Walking to the table, Greg’s phone buzzed. He took it off the holder and checked the display. He shrugged as the woman seated us and set our menus on the table.

“What’s up, Tim?” His gaze met mine and he held up one finger as he listened to the dispatcher.

“Can I bring you something to drink?” The chipper hostess paused at the table, looking at me.

I raised my eyebrows, silently asking Greg if we’d actually be having lunch and he nodded. I guess our nonverbal communication as a couple was spot-on. I ordered two large glasses of iced tea and opened the menu, trying not to listen to Greg’s conversation and hoping we wouldn’t be taking our lunch in to-go boxes.

“I’ll be back by three. I’ve got to stop to talk to Doc Ames. Jill and I are having lunch now.” I could hear Tim’s frantic response. “Seriously, if they want to talk to me, they can wait around until I get back. Send them over to Coffee, Books, and More to relax.”

When Greg put his phone back into the holder, he picked up his menu. “So, what looks good?”

I peeked over the menu and caught his gaze. “Thanks for lunch.”

He shrugged. “It’s just the bank auditors. They can cool their jets for a few hours. They’ve been on a tear about this alarm system issue for the last week. Of course, before Kent died, we couldn’t even get the security service to return our calls. Now everyone’s covering their butts.”

“You think Kent’s murder has something to do with the faulty alarm?” I set the menu down. “He wasn’t even at work when he died.”

Greg held up his hand. “Not your circus, not your monkey.”

“No fair, you brought up the subject,” I reminded him.

“Jill, repeat after me: Not my circus, not my monkey.” He studied the menu, avoiding my stare.

The waitress returned with our drinks. “My granny always said that when I’d get all worked up about something she didn’t think was my problem. Like when my friends were having troubles with teachers at school. I’d come home all vigilante, and she’d respond with that old saying.” The waitress smiled at the memory. “It used to tick me off. Anyway, what can I bring you?”

Greg listed off enough food for three people and then turned to me. “What are you having?”

She turned to me, obviously surprised at the size of his order.

“I’m having the scallops, with a side salad, garlic mashed potatoes, and add a cup of clam chowder.” I closed the menu and handed it to her. “Oh, and bring me that crab dip appetizer, with two plates. I’ll share.”

After the waitress walked away, Greg laughed. “I bet she thinks we’re being joined by friends.”

“Hey, I ran this morning.” I took a sip of the tea. “Besides, it sounds like you’re going into cop mode as soon as we get back into town. So this is date night, and I’ll take the leftovers home and watch movies.”

“Sounds like a perfect night.” Greg sounded thoughtful.

I put my hand on his. “It would be if you were cuddled up on the couch next to me.”

“Even if I insisted on the new Mark Wahlberg movie?” Greg squeezed my hand. Even though we watched a lot of movies together, we were still getting used to each other’s tastes in humor and entertainment.

“I’m planning a Disney princess marathon,” I teased.

As the appetizer arrived, he leaned back, spreading a napkin in his lap. “Then I’m glad I’m working.”

I tore off a piece of the fresh bread loaf, still warm from the oven, and dipped it into the crab mixture. “Is there any way Kent’s death wasn’t murder?”

He raised his eyebrows as he mirrored my actions with the dip. Then he sighed. “I guess I started this.” He took a sip of tea before he continued. “That’s why I’m going to see Doc Ames. The tox screens are coming back wonky. I mean, we know the good banker was a cokehead. But there’s something else in his system.”

“So he could have overdosed?” I shrugged. “I don’t know a lot about the whole drug thing, but people are always dying because of drugs.”

“Not the high-class drug addicts.” Greg ripped a bigger piece of bread off the loaf. “People like Paine tend to use cocaine as a supplement to their lifestyle. They can work longer and harder because they never sleep. And, apparently, it’s good for the libido.”

“You make it sound like an herbal supplement.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe they wouldn’t drug-test him at the job. Doesn’t Rotary Bank have a drug-testing program?”

He polished off the dip before he answered. “Apparently only when you apply for a job. He missed the mandatory testing that’s now in place for bank managers when they promote. The man was a smart player. Probably why he stayed at the smaller bank instead of trying to advance. He didn’t want to risk being tested now.”

I thought about what Greg had told me as our chowders arrived. After taking my first spoonful, I asked, “So he took it to have better sex?”

Greg’s grin widened. “I wondered if you caught that. Sherry was all about the wild sex she and Kent were having. She let a few tidbits slip out the last time we talked.”

Sherry. It always came back to her. “Trying to make you jealous?”

He shrugged. “I guess so. I told her you used to be a gymnast.”

That made me laugh. “You didn’t.”

He held his hand up in the air. “Swear to God, I did.” Greg chuckled. “She suddenly had to be somewhere else.”

“You are so bad.” The closest thing I’d ever done that remotely resembled gymnastics was a section in ninth grade P.E. And I was pretty sure I only passed the test because the teacher knew I was trying. My mother used to call me Grace, not because it was my middle name, but because I was klutzy.

“She deserved it.” Greg dug in to his dinner. “I get tired of her dogging on you all the time. Just because you and her are night and day, doesn’t mean she’s the better choice.”

My lips curved into a smile, and I mentally blessed Greg for standing up for me. Then his words echoed in my head. “Wait, she dogs me? What, does she think she’s all that?”

He patted my hand. “I knew that would get you riled up. Sherry just doesn’t understand why anyone, especially me, would choose you instead of her.” He pulled my hand to his lips. “But she doesn’t have to understand. I love you and that’s the only important thing you need to remember.”

“You can be smooth, Mr. King.” I paused, considering telling him about Kent and his kissing partner. In the end, I decided I didn’t want to make him think about the case. That bit of information could wait. The rest of the meal we talked about our upcoming trip to Napa Valley. The weekend at the end of April would be our first getaway together as a couple. Justin and Amy had raved about the bed-and-breakfast they’d stayed at last fall, showing us the hundreds of pictures they’d taken as they explored the wine country. Topping their experience would be hard, but Greg and I were willing to give it the college try.

After dinner, he drove us over to Bakerstown Funeral Home, where the county coroner, Doc Ames, had his office so he could keep an eye on his business even while he performed the random autopsies required in our quiet area. When we pulled into the parking lot, two women stood at the front door, a harried Doc Ames standing in the middle. I could hear the shouting through the closed windows and over Toby Keith on the stereo.

Greg leaned forward as he parked the truck and turned off the engine. “What the hell?”

“Is that Sherry?” I couldn’t believe the woman was even intruding on our minidate. What would she be doing at the funeral home? Unless she was there about Kent. But who was she yelling at?

I watched Sherry poke the other woman with a long red fingernail. The woman grabbed her hand and twisted. I felt rather than saw Greg jump out of the truck. A rush of wind as Superhero King ran to save his ex-wife.
That’s not fair
, I chided myself. He was a police officer and this was a disturbance. Besides, Doc Ames looked terrified. I could see his mouth moving as he tried to calm the two down. He had a very soothing manner, but I guess Sherry and the other woman didn’t want to be soothed. I unbuckled my seat belt and followed Greg to the circus.

By the time I got there, Greg had Sherry with her arms trapped behind her. Doc Ames held the other woman by one arm, and they had increased the distance between the two to avoid accidental physical contact. Or well-placed kick. I couldn’t help it. I pulled out my cell and snapped a picture. Darla would love this.

“Jill, stop it.” Greg’s voice was firm.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket. “Sorry, too good to pass up.”

Sherry’s burning gaze moved from her original target to me. “If you even consider showing that to anyone, I’ll sue you.”

“I’m scared,” I muttered. I wanted to pull out my cell, snap a photo of the crazed look on the woman’s face, and post it to the Business-to-Business webpage. I could title the post, “See our newest shop owner in her customer service finest.” I pushed the demon inside me away, but I was sure it wasn’t gone.

“Jill? Do you want to wait in the truck?” Greg gave me the look, the one that asked,
Why are you stooping to her level?

Sherry smirked and relaxed her body into Greg’s, just so I could see her wielding her physical prowess. I wanted to smack her and my hands weren’t being held back by either of the two men. I took a deep breath and called on my better side to stop me. I wasn’t sure it would work, but I knew I didn’t want to be banished to the truck.

“That woman has no right to be here. She wasn’t married to Kent,” the unnamed woman shrieked at Doc Ames. “This is a family matter.”

Sherry’s eyes widened and I saw her jolt forward, forgetting that Greg was holding her back. “You weren’t married to him anymore. He never even talked about you.”

“Idiot. He told me all about you and the game he was playing on you. Have you checked your business account lately? Or do you really think your investments are doing that well, just because Kent said so?” The woman’s voice was ice-cold. Which made me shiver, her words taking on a seriousness that made me worry about Sherry, just a bit. Then she opened her mouth again.

“Kent wouldn’t do that. He loved me,” Sherry screeched. She turned her head and pleaded to Greg, “Make her go away. She shouldn’t be here.”

“Sherry, you need to go home. Let me figure this out with Doc Ames and I’ll call you when we’re done,” Greg said in his calming cop tone.

“You won’t tell her anything,” the other woman said. “This is my business, not hers.”

“Now Mrs. Paine, please calm down and come inside with me. We’ll talk about Mr. Paine’s wishes and see if we can work out some sort of compromise.” Doc Ames gently pulled the woman closer to the front door and away from Sherry.

“I know his wishes,” Sherry yelled. “You should be talking to me, not her.”

As Doc Ames and the woman, now identified as at least a sometime Mrs. Paine, disappeared into the home, Sherry actually snorted.

Greg released her arms and pointed to the pink Mercedes sports car sitting in the parking lot. “I’m serious, Sherry, go home.”

Sherry straightened her Chanel suit and glared at me. “I don’t know what you’re doing here. You always seem to be where you’re not wanted.”

“Sherry,” Greg warned.

She fluffed her long blond hair and actually purred at Greg. “I’ll be waiting for your call.” Then, as she passed by me, she whispered, “Don’t think you’re going to keep him. He’ll always come home.”

My eyes widened, and I glanced at Greg, who just shook his head.

He came and stood by me as we watched her drive away. “Typical Sherry, can’t just leave, has to leave a wake of destruction in her path. You okay?”

“I’m fine. She doesn’t get to me,” I lied. I still wanted to slap the chick silly, but at least Greg had stood up for me. Now I was more curious about the woman inside. I nodded to the building. “Did you know Kent was married?”