Killer Run (22 page)

Esmeralda sat at the station's reception desk. “Jill, I haven't seen you in forever. What's been going on over at your house? I see all kinds of activity.”

“I'm remodeling an upstairs bedroom.” I stretched my neck and groaned. “I'll be glad when the house is completely done. My body is rebelling against me.”

Her eyes glittered as she appraised me. “Somehow I doubt that. But let's not compare aches and pains. I suppose you're here to see Greg?”

“See, you really are a fortune-teller,” I teased. “I just popped in, so if he's busy?”

“He is busy, but that's not why you can't see him.” She looked down at the display when the phone rang and ignored the call.

“Go ahead. If you have to get it, I can wait.”

She pointed down to the display. “It's on the mayor's line. I'm not required to pick up personal calls, and all business-related calls are supposed to run through the main number. So, no worries.” She turned down the ringer volume as the phone continued to chirp. “Anyway, Greg's not here. He left for Bakerstown early this morning and hasn't returned.”

“Oh well, I'll catch him after work. See you later.” I waved and started to turn.

“Hold on a moment.” Esmeralda dug through the pink messages she had scattered all over her desk. “This is one you can take. She said if Greg didn't call her back, she'd call you. Something about a cruise refund?”

I took the pink sheet and glanced at the name scribbled on the slip. Rachel. I nodded. “I'll handle this.”

“Jill, be careful,” Esmeralda called as I left through the side door.

Aunt Jackie had said there was no way I'd see a refund from a cruise no matter when it was cancelled, but especially with the short notice we'd given Rachel. Now I had an opportunity to talk to her about a completely innocent subject while I tried to find out if she was Michael's little on-the-side girl. Checking my phone, by the time I walked back to the house, got the Jeep, and drove in to Bakerstown, Rachel's travel agency would be closed.

I'd go tomorrow in between my double shift and take my aunt with me. Maybe she could charm the information out of Rachel. I lacked the charm gene, but my aunt had perfected it to a science.

If Rachel Fleur was seeing the used-to-be-married Michael Ashford, my aunt would find out before the woman knew she was spilling her most treasured secret.

Or she'd be mad enough to kick us out of her agency and rip up Greg's refund check.

I pondered the two outcomes as I walked home. The first was probable, but if the second happened, I'd be in real trouble with Greg.

I tried to give myself a third option: Go pick up the check and ignore the Michael connection, but somehow, that path wasn't setting well with the rest of my body, which was screaming that I needed to find the truth.

No doubt about it, I was addicted to the hunt.

O
n my way into South Cove for my first shift after my so-called vacation, I decided to check in with Harrold. Now that Adam had admitted to vandalizing the store, I wanted to make sure Harrold was up on all the latest developments on the case.

Okay, fine, I wanted to see if Greg had dropped any information to the owner of The Train Station that he didn't think I needed to know.

Even though it was early, I peeked into the shiny new front showroom window. Harrold stood at the counter, looking at a magazine. I tried the door, thinking it would be locked, but the handle turned easily and the bell over the door hooted with a quick train whistle when I entered.

“Hey, Jill, you on your way to the salt mines?” Harrold's aged, lined face lit up when he saw me. “Coming in to visit an old man? I'm going to have to tell that guy of yours he has some competition.”

I wandered up to the counter, noticing that the miniature South Cove village was already back in order. Harrold didn't mess around. If it needed done, he did it. “I'm just checking in to see if you're all right. Did Greg come by and tell you about Adam and his deal with Sandra?”

Harrold closed his train magazine and leaned on his forearms on the glass counter. “He did. Very bad business, don't you think? I just don't know what I ever did to anger that woman.”

“I'm not sure you did anything.” I decided to jump and tell him what I knew. “She was friends with Lille. I'm not saying Lille asked her to do this,” I added quickly.

Harrold sank into a chair and ran his age-spotted hand through his thinning gray hair. “Now I understand.”

“What do you mean?” I watched as tears filled his gray eyes. He wiped the back of his hand across his face.

“Last night, Lille brought me dinner. A fried chicken basket, complete with apple pie. The pie was just like Agnes used to make . . . but I'm wandering. So, when I asked her why, she said she felt bad about the things that had been happening at the shop.” He shrugged. “I thought she was just being kind.”

“Instead, you think she felt responsible for what happened.” I finished his sentence.

“Exactly.” He quickly lifted his head and stared at me. “She said she never wanted anything like this to happen.”

“So, she probably didn't know Sandra had set this in motion.” I shook my head. “You may never know why the shop was vandalized, I mean, not really.”

“I believe you just told me. A friend thought she was doing a favor for another. Just because it was a bad idea doesn't mean the friend didn't think they were doing the right thing.”

“You're awfully philosophical about this.” I stared at Harrold, amazed at his compassion and ready forgiveness.

He stood and walked around the counter to stand near me. “If you hold anger in your heart, it just turns to evil. You have to be able to see the good in people, even those people in whom you think there isn't even a speck of good left. Lille has said her ‘I'm sorry.' Now it's time for me to accept the gesture.”

I left The Train Station with two things. One, a commitment from Harrold's grandson to talk at the Business-to-Business meeting. And two, a deeper understanding of the meaning of forgiveness. Harrold made me want to be a better person.

My phone rang just as I arrived at Coffee, Books, and More. “Jill Gardner.” I turned the key in the lock and flipped on the lights, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder.

“You called and left a message on my machine yesterday? You need promotional assistance?” The man on the other end of the line was friendly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Actually, I'm calling about Promote Your Event? I understand you're purchasing the company?” I hurried to the counter, where I set my purse and light jacket down. I leaned against the edge and hoped.

“I guess it's not a secret anymore since Michael and I signed the papers yesterday. I am blending the agency with my own to make a more rounded-out service for my customers.” His voice was wary, but I could tell he didn't want to be rude, just in case I could be a potential customer.

“So, your initial contact was with Michael?” Now I was totally confused. That wasn't what Lille had said at all.

“No, Sandra came to me with the initial offer and all the paperwork was in her name. When I asked Michael about the sale, once I heard of Sandra's untimely death, he seemed shocked. A few days later, he called and agreed to the deal.”

I heard papers rustling over the phone line. The man was moving on to his next call. “Thanks for clarifying that. Promote Your Event did some work for a charity event we hosted, and now that I know that you're taking over the company, I'll keep you in mind for our next event.”

“I'll send you over a brochure outlining our services and charges.” He paused. “Give me your mailing address.”

I rattled off the shop's address and then said good-bye. The phone call had matched up with Lille's story. Sandra had been making preparations for skipping town. And skipping out on her marriage. Now all I needed to find was the person who, besides the very well-alibied Michael, would benefit from Sandra's death.

I had an idea, and if I was right, I would know the last clue this afternoon when Aunt Jackie and I visited Bakerstown. I started the first pot of coffee and waited for my commuter customers to start drifting into the shop. Six hours and I'd be on the road. I glanced at the clock, willing the hands to move faster.

 

Aunt Jackie had been waiting in the shop for Toby to relieve me for a good half hour. I'd called her around ten to fill her in on my phone call from the PR guy and ask if she wanted to be my wingman on the trip to Rachel's to pick up the refund check. Oh, and to ask her if she was Michael's secret mistress. But maybe that term was a redundancy. Maybe all mistresses were secret, or they wouldn't be mistresses? My mind played with the thought, but customers kept me too busy to check out the actual definition of the word.

Toby arrived a few minutes after his official start time. As he washed his hands in the sink, he filled me in. “Sorry, boss. The transport for Adam didn't arrive until just a few minutes ago, and Greg wanted two of us on site for the transfer. I guess this guy can charm his way out of most situations.”

“Greg was afraid Adam would talk his way out?” I cleaned the espresso machine as we chatted. “Doesn't sound like him.”

“Nah, I don't think he was concerned, but the other guys coming from out of town made the request that we have two people on staff 'round the clock for this guy.” Toby slipped on his apron and started restacking the cups on the other side of the machine. “The mayor's going to go bonkers when he sees this month's overtime. I might just be able to make a dent in my student loan with this next check.”

“Are we done socializing? I've got things to do. It is my day off, you know.” Aunt Jackie checked her hair in a compact mirror, then clicked it shut. Loudly.

“Where are you two going?” Toby slid open the dessert display, checking on the inventory. “Or do I want to know?”

“Nothing bad. We're going to Bakerstown to pick up the refund check from Rachel at the travel agency. Aunt Jackie wanted to talk to her about a trip next fall.” I grabbed my purse from under the counter and motioned to my aunt to follow me. “I'll be back at four to relieve you.”

“I never doubted it.” Toby grinned and followed us into the back room. When he noticed me watching, he pointed to the freezer. “I need to grab another one of those lemon cheesecakes. I sold a ton of that stuff yesterday.”

As we left the building and stepped into the bright sunlight, Aunt Jackie slipped on a pair of oversized and overpriced sunglasses. In the Jeep, she turned toward me. “You don't think she'll figure out what we're really asking her, do you? I mean, saying you're the little something on the side is a lot different from admitting you killed the woman standing in the way of your happiness.”

“We don't know that Rachel was either one of those things. That's why I'm not taking this crazy theory to Greg until we at least verify she and Michael were having an affair. Then Greg can check her alibi and we'll be out of the sleuthing business.” I backed out of my parking spot and turned left onto the road, taking the long way out of town.

“And that's why you're not driving by the police station on the way out of town? Because Greg finding out about what we're doing wouldn't be a problem?” My aunt watched me as I drove the speed limit out of town.

“We're not doing anything wrong,” I muttered as we finally reached the highway.

My aunt settled into the passenger seat. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The ride to Bakerstown was quiet, which I didn't mind. I'd rather deal with my own issues of keeping things from Greg without the interference or unrequested wisdom from my aunt. By the time we reached the travel agency and pulled into the parking lot, the energy in the car was electric.

Aunt Jackie stared at the little cottage. “You have a plan?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I thought I'd start the conversation and you could ask who she's been dating lately in your typical charming manner.”

“And what if she won't tell me?” my aunt pressed. “How far do you want me to take this phony trip story?”

Crap, I hadn't thought of that. What if Rachel wasn't going to be Chatty Cathy about her love life? “Then we get the refund, and I call Greg and tell him what I, what we, think.”

She considered this answer, then nodded. “Okay, then. Project Secret Mistress is in full force.” She frowned at me. “What are you waiting for? Christmas?”

I climbed out of the Jeep and waited for my aunt to join me. I clicked the lock on the Jeep's key fob. Cathy Addy was peeking out from her yarn shop window. I waved and she disappeared back into the building. “Not very friendly today,” I said as we walked into the travel agency.

“Who are you talking about?” Aunt Jackie turned, trying to see around me.

I motioned her into the lobby. “Don't worry about it.”

The bell had announced our entrance, and Rachel appeared from the back room. “Hey, my favorite South Cove customers.”

I thought we were probably her only South Cove customers, but I didn't point this out. “I'm glad we caught you. Esmeralda said you had a check for Greg? I thought since I was going to be in town today, I'd just grab it on my way.”

“I do. I almost never get refunds on cruises, but this particular company is very customer-service oriented. Let me grab it out of the safe.” She turned back to the room she'd just left, and a few minutes later, she returned with an envelope. Rachel handed it to me. “There you go. I'd say let me know when you're ready to go again, but actually, I'm closing the agency.”

My aunt let out a tiny gasp. “No. I came with Jill today to talk to you about another trip next fall. I adore taking senior hostel trips, especially those that happen on college campuses. I was hoping you could help me find one in New England. I so wanted to see the leaves change.”

Rachel sank on the stool near her desk. “I know. I went to school back East, and I've missed the fall change more than I realized.” She dug through her desk drawer. “Here's the name and number of a guy who runs an agency out of the city. He's very good, and if you tell him I sent you, he'll give you a good deal.”

Aunt Jackie took the card and slipped it into her purse. “I appreciate the referral. So, tell me about your leaving? Are you going back East?”

Rachel's face froze. “Why would you think that?”

“You said you went to school there. Are you trying to rekindle a lost love? Or are you moving because of someone?” My aunt studied a brochure for an all-inclusive island retreat that was on the counter. “I swear, I can't count the number of times my dear husband moved us across the country just because of his job.”

I felt my chin drop, but caught it before my surprise at the lie was apparent to Rachel. Aunt Jackie was good. She played her part well. I leaned against the wall, watching Rachel, hoping she was buying our fake girls' talk. “I've never moved for a man. Well, I moved to get away from a man. Maybe you are, too?”

“You've caught me.” Rachel stood. “I'm running away with my mystery man. Come here, I want to show you what he bought for me.”

We watched as Rachel moved down the hall. She hadn't mentioned Michael yet, but maybe the gift was a picture of the two of them or a clue to where they were moving. I took my aunt's arm and led her, with me following Rachel.

She pushed a door open, then motioned for us to go in first. The room was bare. No furniture, no gift, no clues. I spun around, to see Rachel holding a gun on us. “I don't know exactly what your game is, but I don't have time to play.”

“You can't keep us here.” I pushed my aunt behind me, hoping Rachel wouldn't actually use the weapon.

Rachel smiled. “Oh, but I can. At least long enough to give Michael and me time to get out of this town. He's already picked up the check from the sale of the business. Now all we have to do is go enjoy the fruits of Sandra's labor. I can't believe that woman was trying to skip town and leave Michael penniless.” She leaned against the door frame. “I'm a good sport and all, but I have my standards.”

“So, you found out about the sale of the business and killed her before she could leave.” I looked at Rachel's hand where she held the gun. She noticed my attention and raised it back so it pointed right at my chest.

“Please don't make me do something stupid.” She motioned me back a few steps. “That's better. I didn't mean to kill her. I was just going to talk, but then she went all
crazy
on me and took off walking down the road. I would have just hit her the one time, but she kept moving. In for a penny, my mom always said.”