The Eleventh Hour

by Anina Collins

  “Poppy, are you sure she knew you two were supposed to meet?”

  “Yes, Dominick. Now please, can you come over to her grandmother’s house behind Geneva’s and check things out?”

  “She might have gotten tied up with friends. This doesn’t sound like a police emergency, Poppy. If I get a chance, I’ll take a drive by the neighborhood a little later on.”

  Reluctantly, I explained what I believed about the mayor, hoping that his actions the night before at Diamanti’s might mean he wouldn’t force me off the case. “I think Alicia was going to tell me she saw Girard go into Geneva’s the very night she was murdered. If she did and he found out somehow, she might be hurt or worse. Please hurry!”

  “What are you doing involved in the Geneva Woodward case, Poppy? I’ve told you before how I feel—”

  “Dominick! You can ream me out later, but for now, will you just do this for me and not give me chapter and verse about how I’m not supposed to stick my nose in your cases?”

  Less than five minutes later, he arrived in his police cruiser and the two of us banged on her grandmother’s front door, but no one answered. He tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. Poking his head in, he yelled Alicia’s name but got no answer, so he drew his gun and slowly entered the house.

  I followed, even though I knew he probably didn’t want me to, and before we made it a few steps inside, we saw Alicia lying unconscious on the ground. He rushed over to her and checked for a pulse, but it was too late.

  She was dead, silenced before she could tell me who she suspected of being Geneva’s mystery man and very likely her murderer.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I lay in bed sobbing, unable to sleep all night to escape the thought that Alicia’s death had been caused by my carelessness. All I could think of was how obvious I’d been watching the mayor all afternoon and then walking around Geneva’s neighborhood asking questions to just anyone. What if one of those people had been the murderer and saw me sitting on the porch talking to Gertrude Jenkins? What if the murderer had overheard me make plans to meet with Alicia and decided then that she had to be silenced?

  I’d been so sure of myself that I hadn’t remembered at the heart of this case lay a murderer. How could I have been so stupid? Alex was right. I was too close to the case.

  As the sunrise peeked through my bedroom window, all I felt was utter sadness. I didn’t know how to go on, but I knew I needed to. Now more than ever, I had to find the one who murdered Geneva and most likely killed Alicia before she could tell me who he was.

  Sunset Ridge’s former mayor and Geneva’s former lover Jefferson Girard looked guiltier than ever, and to make up for my part in Alicia’s death, I had to prove he did it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

  My alarm rang, shaking me from my misery for just a moment, and I quickly swiped my cell phone to stop the chimes that usually woke me so gently but now just sounded like funeral music. The message icon showed I had unread texts, and there right on top was one from my boss at The Bottom Line telling me my second missed deadline had passed.

  When it rained, it poured.

  Even worse, there were no new texts from Alex. Not that I should have expected any. After my outburst, I’d be lucky if he ever spoke to me again.

  Waking up to a hat trick of misery like this was enough to make me want to stay in bed all day, but if I wanted to keep my job, I needed to finish my piece for my boss and get it to him before noon. The implied meaning in his message was if I didn’t, I shouldn’t bother to consider myself his employee any longer.

  I dragged myself out of bed, praying this day would get better but not holding much hope for that. Even making myself a cup of my favorite morning pick-me-up didn’t help. On top of feeling to blame for Alicia’s death, I missed sitting with Alex at The Grounds and talking while I enjoyed my dark roast.

  As I stood leaning against my kitchen counter still in my pajamas, a knock on my door startled me out of my misery, and I answered it to find my father standing on my welcome mat. The concerned look on his face told me he’d heard what happened.

  Without saying a thing, he knew what I needed. Stepping toward me, he opened his arms wide and took me into them for a hug. Unable to stop the tears from coming once again, I sobbed against his shoulder as the weight of everything that had transpired the day before threatened to crush me.

  “I know, honey. Let it out. Let it all out.”

  I let myself cry like I hadn’t done since my mother died, and my father held me tightly in his arms as we stood there in my kitchen just like he had that awful day when the loveliest soul in my world left us.

  Finally, after nearly ten minutes of doing exactly as he’d said and letting it all out, I looked up at him and wiped my eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”

  He smiled that gentle way he did when I skinned my knee as a little girl or got my heart broken by a teenage crush. “You want to talk about it?”

  Taking a deep breath in, I felt much of my sadness ebb away and nodded. Maybe talking to someone about how awful I felt might help. “Yeah. You want some coffee?”

  He stepped around me and pulled a chair out from the table. “You sit. I can get my own coffee. Is it that dark roast stuff you like to get at the coffee shop?”

  I sat down and took a sip of my regular coffee from the grocery store. “No, just ordinary coffee. It’s why I don’t usually drink it here in the mornings anymore.”

  The thought of sitting across from Alex at a table at The Grounds flashed through my mind, and I sighed. Was he there right now, sitting alone at that back table we’d sat at nearly every time we went there? Or had someone joined him, one of the women in town eager to find out about this new guy nobody seemed to know much about?

  My father sat down on the other side of the table and placed his coffee mug in front of him. “About that. Haven’t you been going to The Grounds with Alex every morning? Why aren’t you there talking about your case this morning?”

  “We had a falling out,” I mumbled as I looked away so he couldn’t see how much what I’d done bothered me.

  “Over the case? I’m sure it’s nothing new for him. He was a detective for years, Poppy. I’m sure in all that time he had people disagree with his theory of a case now and again.”

  “It was something different. It started out about the case, but then it got…” I didn’t finish my sentence because I couldn’t explain why I’d exploded like I had. I’d never been really emotional, so I didn’t know why I acted the way I did.

  “Look at me, Elizabeth.”

  My father’s voice was gentle but insisting, so I took a deep breath and slowly let it out as I turned my head to face him. “Yeah, Dad?”

  “What’s all this about? What’s going on with you and Alex?”

  “Nothing. It’s not like that, Dad. We’re just partners who are trying to find out who killed Geneva. Well, were partners.”

  My father’s gentle smile returned. “For someone you’ve only known for a week, this seems to be a lot of sadness over a disagreement, don’t you think?”

  Hanging my head, I admitted what I felt. “I know it seems like we became close really fast, but that’s just how it happened. I really admire him and I want to learn from him how he figures things out that other people don’t see. I can’t explain it, Dad, but I just like being around him.”

  “Are you sure it’s nothing more? You two looked almost inseparable that night at the bar. People who only know each other for as short a time as you two have usually don’t sit so close and lean on each other like you two were. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you two were romantically involved.”

  “No. We’re not like that. He’s still in love with the past, and I’m not looking for a boyfriend in him.”

  My father took hold of my hand and gently squeezed it. “Are you sure? I know what I saw.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that, Dad. And now it’s really nothing since we aren’t speaking to one another, even though if ther
e ever was a time I needed his help, it’s now.”

  The look of concern my father had worn when he showed up at my door returned now. “Why? What’s happened?”

  Tears welled in my eyes again, and I struggled to keep myself from falling apart. “There was another murder last night.”

  “Another murder in Sunset Ridge? Who?”

  “Alicia Jenkins. Do you remember Mrs. Jenkins from the high school? Her granddaughter. I think it was my fault she got killed, Dad.”

  Any chance of stopping the tears vanished as soon as the words left my mouth. I buried my face in my hands and let them come again.

  “Poppy, you couldn’t hurt a fly. How could you think it was your fault? Do we know who did it?”

  I sniffled and tried to explain, but my crying made it difficult. “I think it was the same person who killed Geneva and they found out that Alicia was going to tell me who she thought the man was visiting Geneva late at night. I think he killed her to keep her from talking.”

  Handing me a napkin, my father knitted his brows in that way he always did when his concern for me had turned to genuine worry. “You’re going to get yourself hurt or worse, Poppy. Maybe it’s time to let the police do their job and stop this.”

  He was probably right. It seemed likely that the killer knew I was onto him, so I was next if I kept sticking my nose into things.

  “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know, Dad. It just feels like I shouldn’t give up, especially now that someone got killed because of me.”

  “That didn’t happen because of you, honey. She was murdered by someone who is evil. It’s that simple. I’m just terrified that this same evil person is going to come after you.”

  I dried my eyes again and confessed my suspicions to the only person I could. “It’s the mayor, Dad. Jefferson Girard.”

  My father had always been a rock compared to everyone else in my life. His strength and composure in the face of anything that came up, even my mother’s death, had always been something I could rely on. But now as he sat staring at me with his mouth hanging open, he looked like he couldn’t wrap his brain around what I’d said.

  “I know. It sounds incredible, but it’s him, Dad. Mayor Girard is the murderer. He killed Geneva because they had a relationship when they both lived in Vermont. I had always thought she lived in Sunset Ridge all her life, but I found out she lived up north and knew the mayor when he was named Jonas something.”

  “You know what? She didn’t always live here. The Woodward family did, but she didn’t. I hadn’t thought of that. So you’re saying he killed her and then he killed that girl because she knew he did it?”

  My chest felt like someone was sitting on it, and I struggled to take a full breath in when I thought of that pudgy, middle-aged man sneaking up behind her and bashing her in the head as her poor grandmother slept just one floor up. She didn’t deserve that.

  “But if she knew who killed Geneva, why didn’t she go to the police?”

  “I don’t know. I think she believed she knew who Geneva’s mystery man was and wanted to tell me, but it’s still not certain that he was the same person who killed her.”

  My father took the last gulp of his coffee and sighed. “I’m worried about you, Poppy. This is dangerous, and you’re going to get hurt.”

  I stood and walked over to stand behind him to give him a reassuring hug. Nuzzling his unshaven neck like I did when I was a child, I tried to make him see why I had to do this. “I need to see this through to the end. You understand that, don’t you?”

  He turned his head to kiss me on the cheek and nodded. “I understand. You’re just like your mother was. Once she got interested in something, she was like a dog with a bone.”

  Grabbing his coffee cup, I headed toward the sink to rinse it out. “Well, thank God for that or I might not be alive. You always have said she chased after you, even though she never liked it when you said that.”

  My father smiled broadly, as he always did when I mentioned that story. “She did. I was just some stupid kid who didn’t know a great thing when he saw it. She was the one who had to show me what I was missing by not dating her.”

  I finished washing out his cup and placed it in the dish rack. I liked thinking of my mother like that instead of how I usually thought of her as sick but fighting until the end. Whenever I had the chance to remember her before she fell ill, I always felt better afterward.

  “Just promise me you’re going to be safe, Poppy,” he said as he came over to the sink to give me a goodbye hug.

  “I promise, Dad. Derek and Dominick are always around anyway, and now that I’m not working with Alex, maybe I’ll just stick by Derek’s side until the case is over.”

  He leaned back away from me and cocked his eyebrow. “I’m sure Derek will love that. He’s liked you a bit more than a friend should since grade school. As for Alex, I don’t think you two are done quite yet. I saw something between you two at the bar the other night. Maybe I read it wrong and it’s not romance. I think we both know I’ve been wrong on that subject before. But I saw what I saw. You two work well together. I’d hate to see that end over whatever happened.”

  I kissed my father goodbye and closed the door behind him as the sting of regret pinched at me over what I’d said to Alex. I’d been hurtful, and that wasn’t me. So I had to fix it, or at least try.

  Picking up my phone from the kitchen table, I texted him a message I hoped would make him see I really didn’t mean what I’d said.

  Hey, Alex. I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I never intended to hurt you.

  I waited twenty minutes for him to text back an answer. He never did.

  By mid-afternoon, I hadn’t even showered or gotten out of my pajamas since I couldn’t seem to shake the sadness about Alicia’s death and what had happened with Alex. I knew I needed to because there was more work to do, though, so after a particularly rousing episode of one of those court shows where the judge is famous for some stupid catch phrase instead of meting out real justice, I pulled myself up off the couch and headed upstairs to get my day going.

  Diamanti’s opened at four, so I called at four o’clock on the nose to ask if the former mayor would be dining with them that night and to try to get a reservation. Thankfully, the woman who answered cared nothing for privacy, which wasn’t surprising in Sunset Ridge, and freely gave up the information that he and his wife would be there by half past seven. So I asked if they could fit me in even though it was one of their busier nights, and I got an eight PM spot in the main dining room.

  I fully intended to keep my eye on Girard, even though I’d told my father otherwise. I knew he’d worry himself needlessly if he thought I would be working alone, but teaming up with Derek just didn’t sound like a good idea. He was nice enough and I was sure he had some detective skills inside that pretty head of his, but I didn’t want to partner with someone else tonight.

  At a few minutes after seven-thirty, I checked myself out for one last time in my bedroom mirror. Dressed in a pink sweater set, black pants, and flats, I didn’t look as great as I had the other night, but I was aiming for comfort this time. If I needed to quickly follow Girard somewhere, I had to know I wouldn’t get tripped up in high heels or a dress.

  Not that I didn’t look good, but tonight’s look had a practicality to it that I hoped would come in handy.

  The crowd milling about outside the front of Diamanti’s made merely getting into the restaurant a hassle, so it was quarter after eight before I even got sat at my table. I scanned the dining room hoping I hadn’t missed Jefferson Girard, but lo and behold there he was at a table near the bar with the First Lady, the two of them with drinks in their hands and big smiles on their faces as they raised their glasses in a toast.

  My stomach roiled at the thought of him toasting to their happiness and long life while Geneva and Alicia lay dead by his hand. If it was the last thing I did, I’d see him pay for what he’d done.

  Lost in thought at how wonder
ful it would be when he was finally behind bars, I didn’t notice Derek sit down at my table until he cleared his throat. Surprised to see him across from me wearing his police uniform, I straightened in my seat and awaited the onslaught of reprimands he would give me for telling his brother I was helping with the case.

  “How are you tonight, Poppy?” he asked in a voice that sounded a little too sweet for someone about to dress me down.

  “I’m good, Derek. How are you?”

  He seemed to think about my very basic question meant more as polite chit chat than anything else, and then he frowned. “I’m good, all things considered.”

  “That’s good.”

  I really didn’t know what else to say since I was sure at any moment he would be launching into his lecture of how I’d made his life a living hell and how much grief Dominick had given him after what I said.

  “I wanted to come by and see how you’re doing. You know, after the whole Alicia thing.”

  Even the allusion to her death made my eyes well with tears, but I held them back, not wanting to show Derek how much what had happened truly affected me. “I’m okay, but it only made me more resolute to bring the guilty man to justice.”

  For a moment, he remained still as a statue, but then he leaned toward me and said, “I promise you, Poppy, Jefferson Girard will pay for what he did to Geneva and Alicia. You have my word on it.”

  When he finished speaking, he turned his gaze toward the table where the former mayor and his wife sat and narrowed his eyes to angry slits. I watched as he stayed that way for nearly a minute before he turned toward me and smiled.

  “Time for me to get back to my table. I’m happy you’re okay, Poppy. Take care.”

  “Thanks, Derek.”

  He stood from the table and threw another nasty glare toward the mayor’s table before turning to head back to where his party sat. I watched him walk past Girard and wondered if he’d say anything, but he simply kept moving until he reached his table.