Death by Committee

by Alexis Morgan

  “If you’re sure.”

  She managed a reassuring smile. “I am. Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if Gage checked on me, too.”

  He carried his dishes over to the sink. “Let me know if he’s learned anything.”

  “I will.”

  “No more thoughts on who might have been behind this?”

  She’d stayed awake for hours trying to answer that exact question. “Not that I can think of, and I think we pretty much eliminated everyone on the list Gage made. He clearly didn’t think it was a teenage prank, so I don’t know where that leaves me.”

  There was a strong hint of Tripp in warrior mode when he turned to face her, maybe because he still hadn’t shaved and was wearing yesterday’s clothes. “It leaves you being real careful about who you talk to for a few days.”

  She did her best imitation of a teenage girl dealing with an overprotective parent. Batting her eyes, she said, “Yes, Father.”

  Tripp didn’t seem to find that as funny as she did, but she was pretty sure he was fighting the urge to grin on his way out the door. “I’ll be back by three at the latest.”

  She followed him out onto the porch. Thanking him again didn’t seem like quite enough of a payment for sticking by her last night. Offering him another break on his rent wouldn’t be right, either. He’d signed on to mow the grass and do a few odd jobs around the place, not to come running with gun in hand whenever she ran into problems.

  “I don’t want to interfere with your homework or anything, but I’d really like to take you out to dinner tonight. You know, for everything you’ve done.”

  He studied her for a few seconds before finally nodding. “Only if we go to the Creek Café.”

  Exasperated, she crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip to one side. “I can afford a more expensive restaurant, you know.”

  Tripp mirrored her stance, which looked pretty cute on him. “Yeah, but they won’t serve Frannie’s coconut cream pie, will they?”

  He had her there. While she hadn’t lived in Snowberry Creek all that long, she was well acquainted with Frannie’s dessert menu.

  “It’s a deal. I can be ready any time after five. Give me a yell when you want to leave.”

  “Will do.”

  * * *

  Normally, Abby would’ve had no problem picking out a shirt to go with her best jeans. There was an entire closet full of perfectly good possibilities hanging right there in front of her, but it might as well have been filled with rags for all the appeal anything in it had right at the moment. She would’ve started getting ready earlier if she’d known it was going to be this hard. How should she dress to have dinner with a friend as opposed to what she’d wear on a real date? If she could answer that one question, then she’d know what to wear, because this definitely wasn’t a date.

  Simply put, she owed Tripp for the help he’d given her. That was all. Nothing more than that. A friend thanking a friend. He wouldn’t care what she wore. It wasn’t like he was a clothes hound himself. So why did she think that putting on her forest-green silk blouse instead of the more practical red cotton-knit shirt would convey an entirely different message? Telling herself not to be ridiculous, she grabbed the green silk and put it on. Then she tossed her jeans back on the bed and slipped on a pair of black slacks and then a pair of black booties with silver buckles on the side. A pair of silver earrings and a matching necklace added the final touches.

  She studied her reflection in the mirror. The color of the blouse definitely brought out the green in her eyes and the reddish highlights in her dark hair. “Okay, it’s not a date, but there’s nothing wrong with looking my best.”

  That was her story, and she was sticking to it.

  “Miss McCree? Can I borrow you a minute?”

  She ran over to the staircase. “Sure thing, Mr. Pinkly. I’ll be right down.”

  Abby checked her appearance one last time before joining Mr. Pinkly downstairs in the living room, where he and his assistant were replacing her broken window. Earlier that morning, he’d stopped by to measure the glass. To her surprise, he had the right size in stock and had time in his schedule to install it that afternoon. Right now, he was frowning at the piece of paper in his hand like something had gone terribly wrong. Considering his assistant was doing a final polish on the window, it couldn’t be that.

  “What’s up?”

  He glanced at the paper one more time and then reluctantly held it out to her. “We found this outside. Normally, I would’ve thrown it in the trash, but considering how your window got broken in the first place, I thought maybe you’d want to see it.”

  “Thank you, I . . .” She gave the wrinkled paper a quick glance. Then she blinked and read it again, her heart falling into a ragged, syncopated rhythm as the words typed on the page slowly started to sink in.

  Remember, there’s plenty of room for you in the backyard, too.

  Her hands trembled, rattling the paper. “Where did you find this? I mean specifically?”

  He motioned for her to follow him outside. Pointing toward one of the large rhododendrons that flanked the front porch, he said, “It was caught deep in the branches of that bush. We were cleaning up the broken glass underneath it when we spotted it. No telling for sure how long it’s been there.”

  He ran his hand over his balding head. “Now, truth be told, we often find bits and pieces of stuff when we’re sweeping up after a broken window. Most of the time, we just pitch it all in the trash. However, all things considered, I thought someone ought to see that one. If you think it’s nothing, we’ll just get rid of it.”

  She wanted to think that. Yeah, she really did. It wasn’t nothing, though, and they both knew it. Her first thought was that she needed to show it to Gage, and sooner rather than later. Maybe he’d take one look at it and scoff, saying just what Mr. Pinkly had said about no one knowing how long it had been hiding in that bush. God knows, she hoped that’s what he would say, but Tripp had recently pruned all of the bushes in the front of the house. Wouldn’t he have seen it?

  Trying to sound far calmer than she felt, she said, “Thanks for finding this, Mr. Pinkly. I’m leaving to go out to dinner with a friend in a few minutes. We’ll drop this by the police station on the way. If you’re not quite finished with the window when I have to leave, can you make sure the front door is locked?”

  He followed her back into the house. “No problem. We should be gone before then. If we’re not, though, I’ll double check the doors myself.”

  “Thanks.”

  After he went back to helping his assistant fold up the tarps they’d put over her furniture, she went down the hall to the kitchen with the paper still clutched tightly in her hand. What should she do to preserve it? It had already been exposed to the elements overnight, and both she and Mr. Pinkly had handled it. Finally, she settled for stuffing it into a gallon freezer bag and sealing the top shut. At least that way it wouldn’t pick up any more fingerprints along the way.

  Chances were the only ones on it were hers and Mr. Pinkly’s, but she could always hope. After setting it by her purse, she sat down at the table and waited impatiently for Tripp to text her that he was ready to go. Staring at the clock did nothing to make the time pass any more quickly.

  “Zeke, did I mention I was going out to dinner tonight?”

  His only response was a soulful look and a big sigh as he heaved himself up off the floor to lay his big head in her lap. She stroked his soft fur. “We won’t be gone all that long. I promise. I’ll even fix your dinner before we go.”

  That earned her a quick lick of his tongue and two wags of his tail.

  “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate your calm nature?”

  She meant that. It took a lot for him to get all worked up about something. A new batch of his treats, hot out of the oven, did the job. On the other end of the spectrum, so did a brick through the window.

  With no one else handy to listen, she whispered her fears to hi
m. “I’m scared, Zeke. I was only worried about Aunt Sybil’s reputation up until that brick came flying through the window. I got upset when Mr. Jeffries and then those awful old women yelled at me, but I wasn’t scared. Not exactly, anyway. I am now.”

  It took a lot of effort to keep her eyes focused on Zeke and not the plastic bag over on the counter. “I’ll show that to Tripp and then give it to Gage. I’m not sure how much he’ll learn from it, if anything at all. Maybe he has some super-duper lab techs who can figure out what brand of printer it was made on and who in town owns one, but I figure that’s a longshot at best.”

  Zeke’s tail did another long sweep to show he agreed with her assessment of the situation.

  Mr. Pinkly appeared in the doorway. “Miss McCree, we’ll be heading out now. Let me know if you have any problems with the window. Remember, it’s under warranty.”

  She stood to shake his hand. “Thanks again for coming on such short notice this morning. I never expected you would be able to fix it today. You and your helper definitely went above and beyond. I gave your office my credit card number to take care of the bill. I’ll also leave five-star reviews on the major websites for you, too.”

  He beamed at her. “I do appreciate that. It’s amazing how important that has become to all of us small businesses these days.”

  She locked the front door behind him and watched from her brand new window as he drove away. Her phone buzzed to tell her she had a new text message. Tripp was ready. Good. She texted back that she would meet him at her car. Zeke followed her back into the kitchen, probably to make sure she made good on her promise to feed him on her way out.

  After filling his bowl halfway with kibble, she added an extra treat of his favorite canned dog food. He immediately dove right in as she picked up her purse and keys along with the plastic bag with the note in it.

  “Be good, Zeke. I’ll be back soon.”

  To her surprise, he actually stopped eating long enough to look up at her, which warmed her heart. Normally, nothing distracted him from food. She patted him on the head and let herself out, locking the deadbolt behind her.

  Tripp stood leaning against the front fender on her car. One look at him and she knew the green silk and black slacks had been the right choice. By this time of day, he was usually sporting a pretty serious five o’clock shadow. Instead, he looked freshly showered and shaved, and he was wearing khakis and a dark blue sports shirt, which set off his tan rather nicely. Too bad Edith and the other ladies weren’t there to see him.

  She stopped just short of where he stood and smiled. “You clean up well, Mr. Blackston. Pretty dressy, though, for the Creek Café.”

  “You’ve got no room to talk.” His cheeks flushed a bit as he shrugged. “Besides, everything else was dirty or had holes in it.”

  It was tempting to stand there and maybe see just how rusty her flirting skills really were, but now wasn’t the time. She didn’t want to ruin their evening out, but neither Tripp nor Gage would thank her for waiting until tomorrow to turn over the note.

  “I’m sorry, but we need to make a quick stop on the way to the restaurant.”

  It was hard to put on a brave face, but she tried. Evidently, her best effort wasn’t all that good, because Tripp immediately pushed away from the car to stand right in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

  She held out the baggy. “Mr. Pinkly, the window guy, found this stuck in one of the rhododendrons out front. The one right under the window that was broken last night. There’s no telling how long it’s been there, though.”

  He took the note from her and read it out loud. “Remember, there’s plenty of room for you in the backyard, too.”

  Hearing the words again did nothing to calm her already frazzled nerves. His temper didn’t help, either. His anger grew by the second as he studied it. “How on earth did Gage miss finding this last night?”

  “I don’t know. Like I said, all we know for sure is that it was there today.”

  Tripp handed her the note back. He did a slow visual sweep of the yard as if searching for the enemy in and among the shrubs. Finally, his dark eyes snapped back to look directly at her. “Have you called Gage? Because he’ll be furious if you’ve been sitting on this.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell him.” She slipped the note into her purse for safekeeping. “Mr. Pinkly found it just as they were finishing up out front. They left just as you texted me. I thought we’d save Gage from having to make another trip out here by dropping it off at the police department on our way to dinner.”

  He tamped down his temper. “I’m sorry this is happening, Abby.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  This time her attempt to smile felt more natural. “But let’s not let this ruin our evening. I’ve been looking forward to Frannie’s pie all day.”

  At least he let her change the direction of the conversation. “Do you want me to drive?”

  She was feeling pretty fragile right now, so maybe that was a good idea. Tossing him her keys, she said, “Sure thing.”

  He snatched them out of the air and walked around to the passenger side to open the door for her. It wasn’t the first time he’d demonstrated such old-fashioned, good manners. True, she could’ve opened the door for herself, but she still appreciated the small gesture.

  With luck, Gage wouldn’t be in and she could just leave the note with whoever was manning the front desk at the police department. She’d let the officer know that she’d be home later in the evening if they needed to talk to her. Otherwise, she would be home most of tomorrow.

  For now, she was going to do her best to ignore that somehow she’d managed to draw the attention of a killer.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Unfortunately, the desk sergeant insisted on calling Gage about the note before he’d let her and Tripp leave. After briefing his boss, the officer handed the phone over to Abby. It took only a minute for her to bring Gage up to speed.

  “Like I said, Mr. Pinkly found it. I hadn’t been near that part of the yard all day, so I can’t say one way or the other how long it had been there.”

  Gage sighed, his frustration coming through loud and clear. “I’m really sorry I missed seeing it last night.”

  “We don’t know that it was even there then.”

  Not that that would lessen the threat implied in the note. Besides, the thought of whoever had heaved the brick through her window sneaking back later to drop off a threatening message was creepy times a hundred. Maybe even a thousand.

  “Are you going to be okay? The offer of having someone parked outside of your house still stands.”

  “I’ll be fine. Tripp and I are headed over to Frannie’s for dinner. After that, I plan to stay home with the doors locked and Zeke close at hand. And I’m thinking a bottle of wine might be a nice way to cap off the evening.”

  She paused briefly and then added, “All things considered, maybe even two.”

  He laughed a little. “I hear you. Now let me talk to Tripp for a minute. Enjoy your dinner, and I promise we’ll get to the bottom of this, one way or the other.”

  “I know you will, Gage. Here’s Tripp.”

  She handed over the phone and then walked to the other side of the small lobby, allowing the two men some semblance of privacy. They were talking about her, no doubt, but she really didn’t want to know the details right now. She trusted Tripp would fill her in on anything she needed to know. Besides, she suspected she already knew what they were planning. Zeke wouldn’t be the only personal bodyguard she’d have tonight.

  Tripp joined her at the door. “Ready?”

  “Yeah, let’s go. I want to get there before Frannie runs out of pie.”

  He looked horrified by that possibility. “That actually happens?”

  “I’ve heard rumors to that effect. I’m planning on ordering mine as soon as we’re seated.”

  “I like a woman who thinks ahead.”

  His grin brightened her spirits. For now, she was
n’t going to think about broken windows, threatening notes, or the fact that a killer was still walking the streets of Snowberry Creek.

  * * *

  The café was packed. No surprise there. It might not be the fanciest place within easy driving distance, but it definitely had the best home-style cooking around. They found a booth in the far corner next to the front window, which had just been vacated by a young family.

  When they were settled in, Tripp asked, “Are you really okay?”

  There was a lot of gruff concern in his question. She looked up from her menu long enough to nod. “I am for now.”

  Evidently Tripp took her at her word, because he immediately turned his attention back to studying tonight’s offerings at the café. “It’s hard to decide what to order.”

  “Are you talking about the pie or the entrées?”

  “Yes.”

  She understood just what he meant. If there ever was an occasion that called for comfort food, this was it. Tomorrow would be plenty soon enough to worry about all the excess calories she planned to consume tonight. The daily special of pot roast and mashed potatoes and gravy, along with whatever vegetable came with it, would do nicely. Add in a piece of chocolate cream pie, and what more could she ask?

  Tripp must have been thinking along the same lines. When the waitress arrived to take their orders, Abby watched wide-eyed as he asked for a double order of the roast beef and three pieces of pie. While they waited for their food to arrive, she tried to think of a topic of conversation that wouldn’t send them looping back to the broken window and that hateful note.

  “How were your classes today?”

  “Fine. The history class is pretty much a slam dunk. But as it turns out, my high school calculus is rustier than I thought.”

  She toyed with the napkin on the table. “I’m impressed. I never had calculus, rusty or otherwise.”

  He angled himself in the corner of the booth, stretching his long legs out under the table. “What did you major in?”