Murder in Moon Water

by CeCe Osgood

  “But I am," Lulu said, wriggling her thin penciled in eyebrows. “What if Denise is fudging the property records for Holcombe's dirty real estate deals?"

  Abby rolled her eyes but kept her spoken words more measured. "That's pure speculation, Lulu."

  "Of course, it's speculation. That's the first phase of an investigation. Everybody knows that. Anyway, I drove by the house on Windmill Lane, and it triggered a memory of George and me driving by and him asking me about that very same house.”

  "He did?”

  She nodded. "Here's how I see it. George was getting riled up 'cause he knew he'd been scammed, so he followed Holcombe and discovered the mayor’s affair with Denise. George probably thought Denise was the woman who had called pretending to be the seller's agent with a better offer. She was part of the ruse with her lover boy and Gilbert. It wasn't a dirty dealing duo. It was, or still is, a dirty dealing trio.”

  “That would mean the seller is Holcombe?"

  Lulu wriggled her eyebrows again. "I told you I've been snooping. Turns out the seller is a Delaware LLC. It's legal there to keep the real owners' names hidden. I bet if we dig underneath the legal mumbo jumbo, we’ll find out Holcombe is the real owner. He and lover girl, Denise, conspired with Gilbert to get a higher offer from George, and the trio split up the extra cash. George didn’t get a mortgage. He was a cash buyer.”

  Skepticism lined Abby's face. She waved her hand as if shooing away a pesky fly. "I don't know, Lulu. That's not all that much money. I don't see it as a motive to kill George.”

  Lulu got snippy. "Let me connect the dots for you. What if George was ready to expose them? That would also expose Holcombe's affair with Denise. He's married to Edwina who is the real money in that family, and that woman has a two-mile wide vindictive streak. I'll bet there's a pre-nup which could leave Hank penniless if he has an affair.”

  Lulu grunted in approval of her own theory, daring Abby to challenge her supposition.

  Abby shrugged. “How do you prove it?"

  "How do we prove it, you mean." Lulu didn't wait for a response. "We follow him, see where he goes and, if I'm right, we ... well, we get pictures or video, and then we 'wire' you up and you confront him."

  "Wire me?" Abby snickered, amused and appalled. "I don't think so."

  Then her conscience reminded her of her promise to Winston. Guilt wriggled into her mind and her heart.

  She sighed. "All right, but this needs to be well thought out."

  "Sure. Sure, it does. I think step one is getting a picture or video proving he's involved with her. Edwina won't be back in Moon Water until tomorrow. I'll bet his Benz is at Denise's house right now. Let's go."

  "Now?" Abby checked her watch. It was five fifty-two. Jill wouldn't be home from the ranch for another hour.

  I guess it wouldn't take long to drive by and snap a picture of the car in the woman's driveway.

  "A half-hour is all I've got," she said.

  The sun was slipping past the horizon as Abby's car zipped down Mount Dapple Road, crossed over the creek and cruised pass the town square. Lulu, belted into the passenger side seat, directed her to take the third right after the library.

  As soon as Abby hooked a right, Lulu rolled down the window and stuck her head out. Windmill Lane was a dark street due to the overhanging tree branches and not many streetlamps. "It's there on the corner. That's it. Now slow down."

  The car drifted past the house. Lights were on inside although the driveway looked empty. "Could be a car back there by the garage. If I were her, I'd have a light back there."

  "Let's go home," Abby said intending to turn the car around.

  "Put your foot on that brake," Lulu ordered as she fished a black turban out of her pocket and snugged it on her head hiding her white hair. "I'll go sneak a peek."

  "No. The deal was we'd see if the Benz was parked out front or in the driveway and get a picture."

  "Pish-posh." In a flash, Lulu was out of the car and heading to the dark shadows of the driveway.

  Gritting her teeth, Abby turned off the headlights, scrambled out of the Volvo and stole up next to Lulu.

  "You stay here," she said, pulling her phone out of a pocket. Despite her better judgment, she moved up the dark driveway toward the detached garage at the rear of the driveway.

  Lulu, instead of staying where she was, sneaked closer and crouched right behind Abby. "Ooh. Look over there.”

  Abby’s head swiveled to the right; she saw what Lulu was referring to. Through the window, she glimpsed a man in his tighty whities with his back to her. He appeared to be swaying to music, then a woman in a short sexy nightie came into view.

  Abby aimed her phone and was about to tap the camera icon when a swish-swish noise sliced through the air and sharp needle-like pricks of water hit her in the face. "Ow," she cried, stunned, and dropped the phone.

  With their mission thwarted by the sprinklers, Abby headed back to Honeyberry Woods with Lulu grumbling, "You should’ve taken at least one picture of the car by the garage.”

  Abby huffed, "I'll be lucky if my phone works. The screen’s cracked.”

  Lulu snapped, “I wish you hadn’t made us leave.”

  Abby shot back. “I wish you hadn’t gotten out of the car."

  Silence, born out of frustration and failure, continued all the way back to Honeyberry Woods. Abby pulled up to Lulu's foursquare.

  Lulu slid out of the car without a word.

  In her bedroom, Abby toweled off and changed into dry clothes. It was after seven. Where the heck was Jill?

  Doing her best to ignore the worry rising inside of her, she searched for the velvety black book. It had vanished again. "Stupid book," she muttered.

  Her phone sang out with Jill’s upbeat ringtone.

  Abby's heart clenched when the first thing she heard was, "Nothing's wrong."

  Chapter Nineteen

  "What happened?"

  "The mini-bus broke down at the ranch."

  Abby breathed out a sigh. "I'll come get you."

  "Don't do that. We're on our way. I'll be home soon."

  Abby went outside to pace on the sidewalk, her eyes playing ping pong with the street. Up the street. Down the street. Up the street. Down the street. A cool breeze made her shiver. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except Jill returning home safe and sound.

  She eyed the black mass of forest surrounding Honeyberry Woods. It was majestic but frightening too. Why did she think they could live here in this vast wilderness? This was home to all kinds of creatures.

  Her mind flashed on the narrow mountain road; she shivered again, now more out of fear than cold. A car could slip off the road easily.

  “Stop it," she told herself and tried to tamp down her imagination, which had a way of running wild. “Ranchers know these roads. They drive them all the time.”

  She willed herself to calm down. Jill would be hungry. The chili and cornbread from Dill's Diner would be exactly what she needs.

  Abby directed herself to walk—not run—into the cottage. In the kitchen, she turned the oven on low to heat the cornbread and placed a bowl of chili in the microwave.

  Then peeling out of her thin denim jean jacket, she tossed it onto a dining room chair and went to the hall closet.

  As she was snatching her parka off a hanger, she glanced down and saw the Tick Tock book on the floor by her boots. It wasn't here earlier, was it? No. It wasn't.

  She leaned down to pick up but then thought better of that idea and closed the door. “I don't have time for this right now." She hurried outside, putting one arm through a sleeve.

  Back out on the walkway, she zipped up the parka. A thought flashed through her mind. Did Jill take hers this morning?

  "I didn't even notice," she said, fighting off the threat of tears. "I'm such a terrible mother."

  She sat on the top step, talking to herself to divert her attention. "I should get a chair out here. Or a bench, a small one. And a couple tomato plants like
I had in Martindale. Or maybe flowers. Lulu might give me some cuttings," she babbled on and on nervously, barely aware of what she was saying as her imagination kept picturing the twists and turns of the narrow treacherous mountain road.

  Wishing she already was a trained witch, she muttered, "I should call Selene and get her to do a fly over to make sure the car didn't run off the road.”

  A sudden flash of light made her head swivel to the right. Headlights. A car cruised around the corner.

  She leaped to her feet, her pulse thundering in her ear. Please, oh please.

  The car slowed. Raising an anxious hand, she waved. The headlights blazed right into her eyes when a black SUV pulled into the driveway.

  A moment later, Jill hopped out of the backseat. Another teenager, a boy, slid out too.

  Arms out for a hug, Abby hurried to her. "Jill." Tears thickened her throat. "I was so worried and now you're home, my little Jilly. "

  The teen rolled her eyes at the gushy greeting, refused to hug her mother back. "Chill, why don't you. I'm okay." Her eyes slid to the scrawny boy next to her. "Momma, this is Devon Esteban."

  The sandy-haired boy nodded. “Hi.”

  The SUV’s driver exited and came around the hood. Abby recognized the sherpa jacket.

  Jay Browder flashed a grin. “Don’t worry. The kids did fine. Devon and Jill are my last deliveries."

  “I’ll walk home," Devon said. "It's only a street over. Thanks for the ride, Mr. Browder. See ya, Jill.”

  Jill acted cool, gave Devon a finger-wave before trotting up the steps.

  Abby stood on the walkway near Jay who said, "First time that mini-bus has ever had trouble. That's what the driver told me."

  Abby beamed. "Thank you so much for bringing her home."

  He dipped his head as if she'd embarrassed him and tunneled a hand through his light-colored hair. "Think I could get a glass of water?"

  Chapter Twenty

  Abby led him up the steps and into the house. "Make yourself comfortable," she called out.

  She returned with the water to find him right where she'd left him, leaning against the front door. He took the glass from her and gulped down half of the water.

  She was giddy with the amazing power of relief. Jill was home and safe. She noticed his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed the rest of the water. “Thirsty, huh?"

  “Living on a ranch, I find I'm always thirsty." He sniffed the air. “What's that?”

  "Ohhh." She raced to the kitchen and grabbed a potholder and wrestled with the oven door.

  She heard his footsteps behind her, turned to see him standing nearby. “Everything all right?"

  "Guess this oven heats unevenly. Half is burned, and half is on the slightly crispy side, but it's okay. If you're hungry, there's plenty. I have chili from Dill's Diner and I'm making a salad. I'd offer you beer but"—a shrug—"I'm out."

  He cocked his head. "I have a bottle of pinot noir with me. In fact, I have a whole case.”

  “Wait a minute. You carry wine with you?”

  "I special order it every so often. I picked it up at the Trading Post this afternoon and forgot to unload it when all the commotion with the bus happened at the ranch."

  She watched him disappear outside. Slim-hipped, broad-shouldered, and at least two inches taller than her. If I was looking for a man, he'd be in the lineup. "But I'm not looking," she reminded herself.

  And yet, she dashed into the bedroom, donned a fresh tee shirt, fluffed her hair and glossed her lips.

  She made it back to the kitchen a moment before Jay returned. He held up the bottle. "Hope this will do."

  Abby leaned back against the countertop then stood straight when she realized she was staring at him like a dazed fan girl. His tanned leathery face, square jaw and slow manner of speaking made him a cowboy right out of the movies. A Hollywood cowboy. She'd met real cowboys who often had stained teeth from chewing tobacco and extraordinarily rough, calloused hands with dirty fingernails. Not this one. This cowboy rancher had clean nails, nice teeth, and a ready smile.

  "Um, I think..." she turned away, found the corkscrew in a drawer and offered it to him. He reached for it, letting his thumb linger on hers. She withdrew her hand slowly, her cheeks pinking with heat.

  After he uncorked the bottle, she took it to fill the wineglasses. The label made her laugh. "Flintstone? You special ordered a case from Fred and Wilma?"

  He cracked a smile. "It's more like a bump in the road with a post office, a gas station and a vineyard. Not much else."

  Jay took the proffered glass. "I like the pinot noir although the chardonnay wins awards. I’ll bring you a bottle sometime. It's superb.”

  "I'd like that," she said and opened the fridge to take out the lettuce for a salad. "What kind of salad dressing do you like? I have ranch and Italian."

  "Being a rancher, there's only one choice for me. How about you? You like ranch?

  She responded to his flirty manner. "I do like ranch. Particularly this brand. It’s tangy."

  “I like tangy." His eyes sought hers. "I like sweet and spicy and tangy."

  Abby swallowed, momentarily at a loss for words. Jill clomped into the kitchen with fresh clothes and wet hair. "What an awesome day. Those kids were so cool."

  "What kids?" her mother said.

  "We had a trail ride today, and I got to help out. I had this kid about nine who refused to even get near a horse, but when I finally convinced him to get into the saddle, he loved it."

  During the meal, Jill nattered on and on about the ranch and the trail ride, giving neither her mother nor Jay a chance to say much, which worked out well.

  They grinned at the chatty teen and enjoyed the wine, the salad, the chili and the crispy cornbread.

  After a second bowl of chili, Jill pushed back from the table. "Excuse me. I'm going to go post the pictures from today online."

  Jay shook his head. "Sorry, Jill, you can't do that."

  "Why not?"

  "You can't show faces of the children online without getting written parental permission. It's a legal thing which I'm afraid extends to you and the other equestrian club members as well as me and the ranch hands."

  She pouted. "That sucks. How about the horses?"

  He grinned. "Four-legged creatures are exempt, but please avoid any signs identifying the ranch or I'll get calls night and day. That's why I have a service booking the rides. I don't want the hassle."

  "Okay. Whatever." She left the table.

  Abby, a little buzzed from the wine, reached for his plate, stacked it onto Jill's and her own and took them to the sink. “Jay, I don’t have anything sweet for dessert."

  "The wine is enough for me, and, I might add, your company."

  Her back was to him. She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the flurry of heat in her cheeks.

  She turned the faucet on, let the water splash on the plates before turning it off, and returned to her chair.

  Jay finished his wine. “This is one of the best meals I've had in a long time."

  "Thank Dill’s Diner, not me.”

  "I'll do that the next time I'm there." He rose. "I guess I better be going. I’m an early riser. Have to be with a rooster for an alarm clock.”

  She walked outside with him. The moon was a smear of silver hiding under a muddy syrup of clouds.

  Abby spotted a figure in the upstairs window across the street. Lulu, the on-duty neighborhood watch commander. I wouldn't be surprised if she raced out there to meet my gentleman caller.

  Jay Browder slid behind the wheel, called out to her standing on the sidewalk. "Can I call you sometime?"

  "I usually don't answer to ‘sometime'," she teased. "I do answer to Abby."

  He shook his head, gave her a playful wink. “Beauty, smarts, and humor. You’re a triple threat."

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The front door slammed: Jill on her way to school. Abby snuggled into her pillow, a satisfied grin spreading across her
face with the memory of last night's dinner, wine and conversation.

  The memory fizzled when another image popped up: needle-like water pelting her face from Denise Elba's sprinklers. Last night's misadventure with Lulu.

  They'd learned nothing except the man with Denise preferred tighty-whities.

  They'd failed to confirm it was Holcombe's Benz at Denise's house, and they certainly couldn't prove the mayor and Denise had scammed George with a dirty deal," she said, mimicking Lulu.

  But they also couldn't dismiss George's suspicions. Maybe he did see Holcombe in a compromising position with Denise, and the mayor reacted when George threatened to expose the affair.

  She glanced at the nightstand. Where was the Tick Tock book? After Jay left last night and Jill was asleep, she had intended to ask it a question or two. The wine combined with her exhausting day had her yawning as soon as her head sank into a pillow and she had dozed off, vowing to get back to the book in the morning.

  A loud clanking sound outside on the street startled her. It sounded like...

  She launched out of bed and peered out her bedroom window. At this angle, she couldn't see the trash can. Jill should have put it out on the curb this morning.

  She fumbled into her robe and a pair of slippers and sped into the kitchen. Her nose detected a fusty odor.

  Yanking out the bag, she scrambled outside, knotting the tie strings, and left it on the curb.

  A glance next door told her Wyatt hadn't returned home yet. Once again, she mentally kicked herself for dropping his spare key in the letter drop.

  An idea flittered around her gray matter. Her wilder, impetuous side was all for it.

  Her cautious side warned her not to be so impatient. Wyatt will be back soon.

  Then she thought of Winston and her promise. With a sigh, she headed to her bedroom where she traded her slippers for black sneakers, threw on a black tee, black jeans, black knit cap for her red hair. “Ninja Abby,” she murmured. That sounded better than Burglar Abby.

  Crossing the yard with deliberate casualness and wary eyes watching out with witnesses, she knocked on the front door while calling out for Wyatt. No answer, as she expected since his van was still gone. She casually ambled down the dirt path on the other side of the cottage. The windows were locked. So was the back door. Her only option was the windows on the side closest to her cottage. Too bad George had planted a lot of thorny pyracanthas on that side.