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If the Coffin Fits

Page 20

by Lillian Bell


  “Don’t you see? This must mean I’m getting somewhere. I’m getting close. Plus, whoever it is that took a shot at me thinks I know more than I do. If I’m right and it’s the same person that killed Violet, they’re willing to do whatever is necessary to keep their secrets. If I don’t push through and find out who it really is, I’ll never be safe. We’ll never be safe. People will always think I make up crazy stories. It’s the only way to stop the destruction of what we’ve built here.” I paused before I brought my next point. “And even Tamara Utley doesn’t think Dad’s a ghost. She said she hasn’t been able to contact him and she’s tried.”

  Donna opened her blue eyes wide. “You’re using Tamara Utley as evidence Dad isn’t dead? If there were such a thing as ghosts, Dad’s ghost wouldn’t talk to Tamara. He really didn’t like her.”

  I knew she was right, but I felt a little deflated nonetheless.

  Uncle Joey asked, “What do you know so far?”

  I gave them the rough outlines. The insulin. The blackmail—without details of who and why and how. The strange fact that Violet’s attempts to extort people had actually helped them turn their lives around.

  Uncle Joey stroked his beard. “So far everyone you’ve talked to really wouldn’t have any reason to want to kill you, would they?”

  I thought about it. “They wouldn’t. Although, I’m not sure anyone was trying to kill me. I think maybe they were trying to scare me, to make me back off a bit.”

  Donna shook her head. “They clearly don’t know you well.”

  I thought about that for a moment. “Well, that’s one more hint as to who it might be, I guess. Someone who knows who I am, but doesn’t know who I am.”

  “Don’t play word games.” Uncle Joey shook his head. “This is serious.”

  I held up my hands. I hadn’t meant to play games. “Fine.”

  Donna’s face went white and her hand fell to her stomach.

  “What? Are you having cramps? A contraction? Do I need to call Greg?” I got halfway up out of my chair, but she motioned me to sit back down.

  “No. Not a cramp or a contraction. Just a sharp kick in the ribs.” She settled back onto the couch.

  Donna threw her hands in the air. “Desiree, don’t you see how all this highlights why you should be keeping your nose out of this?”

  “Which means there’s something there.”

  “Which means you should let someone else handle it. Someone like Luke. It’s kind of his job, right?” Donna said.

  “This was all sitting there for him to investigate. He didn’t see it. Even after Nate and I pointed it out to him. He certainly doesn’t seem interested in following up on anything I tell him.”

  “Don’t you think you getting shot at would make him a believer?” Donna asked. “And one more thing. If Dad disappeared, has it occurred to you that he might not want to be found?”

  Before I could answer, the doorbell rang. Uncle Joey went to answer it and came back with Rafe Valdez on his heels. He stopped in the doorway, hands on hips, “What the actual hell, Turner?” he said by way of greeting.

  “And top of the morning to you, too, Mr. Valdez.” I leaned back in my chair and put my feet up on the coffee table. Uncle Joey rolled up a newspaper and whacked my foot with it. I put my feet back down on the floor.

  “Are you freaking kidding me? What are you on to that someone is taking pot shots at you?” He sounded angry, which surprised me. I was onto something. My editor should be happy about that. People don’t shoot at reporters when they’re not pursuing something interesting.

  “I’m not sure. I thought I the thing with the mayor was the big scoop, but apparently there’s something even bigger.” I sat up straighter, sure that he’d be on my side about digging deeper into whatever it was I was excavating.

  “What’s the scoop?” he asked.

  What was it? What was in that box that had someone worried enough to shoot at me? “The only thing I know for certain is that this town is way more interesting than I remember it being when I was in high school.”

  “I don’t care if it’s bona fide Peyton Place. There is no story worth you getting hurt. None.” He clamped his jaw shut so hard I could almost hear the click.

  The front door opened and seconds later, Nate came in. “For once, I agree with Rafe. Are you okay?” he asked, giving me a hug.

  “Fine, thanks. You?”

  “No one is shooting at me. I’m completely fine. You on the other hand? You I’m not so sure about.”

  “Well, I’m fine.” I tucked my injured arm beneath the other one.

  Nate sank down into a chair and leaned his elbows on his knees. “This is because of Violet Daugherty, isn’t it?”

  “I can’t prove that yet, but it seems to make sense.”

  He put his head in his hands. “This is my fault then. I put you put to this. I encouraged it. I egged you on.”

  “I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do.”

  “You’re responsible for all this?” Donna glared at Nate.

  Nate nodded, looking miserable. “But she’s going to stop now, right? We drop it now.”

  “Now? Now we know we’re getting somewhere. We can’t drop it.” Now was the time to push forward. It was like the end of a race. You didn’t slow down when you saw the finish line. You turned on the after burners and went for it.

  He shook his head. “Desiree, someone shot at you.”

  “I was there. I saw the glass shatter. I’m pretty well aware of what happened.” It wasn’t like I didn’t comprehend the issue. I had a near constant throbbing in my arm at the moment to remind me.

  He lifted his head and stared at me. “Then you should understand why this needs to stop. It’s too dangerous. We’re dropping this.”

  Rafe moved to stand next to Nate. “I agree. This is over. Now.”

  I looked over the people standing ranged around me. Every one of them stared at me, jaws set, eyes hard, arms crossed. Suddenly, I felt very tired. I dropped my head. “Fine,” I said. “It’s over.”

  I pled exhaustion and took Orion back upstairs with me. I could hear them all still talking downstairs. I didn’t care. I lay down on my bed, but despite feeling like exhaustion was making each one of my legs weigh about eighty pounds, I couldn’t sleep. My mind still raced. I might as well get some work done. I grabbed my laptop and sat up, crisscross applesauce.

  I had a long list of e-mails. Most of them were junk. I was about to look for the unsubscribe button on an e-mail from the Fresno Post, but something in the body of the e-mail caught my eye. I scrolled back up to start at the top.

  Dear Ms. Turner,

  I caught your article on the corruption scandal in Verbena. Excellent work. Great story and great voice in your write-up, too. We’re actually looking to expand our staff here at the Post. We specifically need someone who can bring in stories that impact our readers and can’t be found anywhere else. I’d love to talk to you about the opportunity if you’re interested.

  Sincerely,

  Loreta Godfrey

  I blinked a few times, then reread the e-mail. Then I read it again. A real reporting job. Away from Verbena.

  I’d come back because my family needed me and because I had destroyed my career. Now I was destroying their careers and maybe the people of Fresno needed me. It wasn’t like I was getting a whole lot of appreciation from the people of Verbena.

  I hit reply.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next day, Luke called and asked me to meet him at the station. “Can I borrow the Altima?” I found Uncle Joey in the kitchen and asked.

  “Where are you going?” He narrowed his eyes to squints as he turned away from the counter where he was pouring coffee.

  “To the police station. Luke asked me to come down.”

  He pulled the keys from his pocket and handed them to me. “Don’t get shot at, okay? I’m going out tonight and I’d like to have a vehicle free of bullet holes.”

  “Out whe
re? With whom?” I asked, suspecting I knew at least part of the answer.

  He crossed his ankles. “Why do you need to know?”

  “Know what?” Donna asked, coming in and sitting down at the round oak table.

  “About Uncle Joey and Zenia,” I said. “I think they have a date tonight.”

  He froze halfway to putting his coffee cup on the counter, then turned to face me with great deliberation. “What do you know about Zenia and me?”

  I looked over at Donna. She shrugged. “I came downstairs to see if anyone wanted a glass of water,” I said. “You were … busy.”

  He sank down into one of the kitchen chairs. “So you know then.”

  I sat down across from him. “We do. What I don’t know is why you felt you had to keep it a secret?”

  “Was that what your little speech about love was about the other day?” he asked.

  “Yes. I thought I made it pretty clear.” To think I’d moved myself to tears and he’d had no idea what I was talking about.

  “Not to me. You should just come out and say what you mean. It would be easier.” He rubbed his face. “And as far as keeping it a secret goes, well, I think I might have been keeping it a secret from myself.”

  “What do you mean?” Donna asked.

  “When Zenia sold her business I was so angry with her, I couldn’t even talk to her. When she came back here as an inspector, I had to ask myself why. I mean, she was our competitor. I should have been glad she was closing shop. It took me a while to realize that I wasn’t angry about her selling her business. I was sad that she wouldn’t be around anymore.” He smiled a little. “I guess she felt the same way.”

  “I’m happy for you,” I said. “You deserve to have someone nice in your life. She is nice, right?”

  “Very,” he said with a grin.

  “Why didn’t you tell us about it?” I sat down at the kitchen table. Luke could wait.

  Donna sat down next to me. “I’d like to understand that, too,” she said.

  He sighed and sat down, too. “One of the things your dad and I were always very clear about was our priorities. Family first. Business second. Everything else a distant third. That everything else included dating.”

  “But Dad must have dated Mom,” Donna said.

  “Of course.” Uncle Joey nodded. “But our father was still around then. That made it different. Then he died. Then your mother …” His words trailed off. He cleared his throat and went on. “Well, after your mother died, our priority was you two.”

  A wash of guilt flooded over me. Why had I never seen what they were sacrificing before? “You could still find happiness for yourself, though. You deserve that. That and more.”

  He smiled. “Thank you, Desiree. I appreciate that. I do. I don’t think your father and I ever thought about it that way when you were younger. But you’re older now. You can understand these things. I thought maybe it was too late for me. Then suddenly Zenia was back here right in front of me and I thought I’d take that chance. I didn’t know how to tell you about it, though.”

  “For the record, next time I’d rather not find out by walking in on you two making out, okay?” I said.

  He grinned. “Got it.”

  I left with the car keys jingling in my pocket. I’d laughed when Uncle Joey had said not to get shot at, but a few minutes later as I was about to turn out of the shelter of the plum and crape myrtle trees that lined our driveway and onto the open road, the thought of getting shot at again didn’t seem so funny. In fact, it didn’t seem so funny at all.

  I leaned forward, trying to peer up and down the road as best as I could. Was there a place where someone with a gun could be hiding? Was there a vantage point from which someone could take a shot at me? Could someone be hiding in the corn maze, ready to open fire the second I was in range? Or behind the sign for the pumpkin patch?

  I couldn’t stay out of sight forever, though. Eventually, I was going to have to leave. Besides, whoever shot at me was trying to, at the very least, intimidate me. I would not let them win.

  I would also not necessarily sit up all the way in the car though. I sunk as low as I could go in the driver’s seat while still seeing over the steering wheel and braced for another window to explode as I inched forward.

  Nothing happened.

  Well, nearly nothing. Before I could even get onto the road, I saw Nate’s Acura coming toward me. I reversed back into the driveway amazed at how much easier it was to get air into my lungs as I got closer to the house.

  Nate pulled up so he was across from me and rolled down his window. I did the same. “What are you up to?” he asked.

  “Luke called. He says I have to come down to the station for something.” I made a face. “I’m hoping he’s done with my car so I can pick it up.”

  “I was just dropping something off for your uncle. Hold on a minute and I’ll give you a ride. Then you won’t have to worry about ending up with two cars downtown.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling way more relieved than I wanted him to know. I parked the car behind the house and went inside to give the keys back to Uncle Joey.

  “Thanks, Nate. I really appreciate it,” Uncle Joey was saying.

  “It’s as much for my peace of mind as yours, Joe.” Nate’s back was to me as I came around the corner.

  Uncle Joey made a funny noise and his eyes bulged. Nate turned. “Oh, hi, Desiree. Ready?”

  We left and drove downtown. I pretended to tie my shoe as we passed the corn maze. I wasn’t sure Nate bought it, but he let me save face. We parked about a half a block from the entrance to the police station. I got out on the passenger side and stopped. It would only be five steps to get to the side of the building and the linden trees planted every ten feet along the sidewalk. My heart pounded and my mouth went dry. I swallowed hard. Then I did it again. Nope. Still dry. If I crouched down and slithered my way over to the wall, I’d only be exposed for a few seconds. Before I could do it, however, Nate was at my side. “You coming?”

  “You’re going into the station?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I have some stuff to drop off to Luke about a case.”

  I looked at his empty hands, my eyebrows arched.

  He pulled a thumb drive from his pants pocket and wiggled it. “Miracles of technology, Desiree.”

  “Well, okay then.” We walked into the station with Nate between me and the street.

  Luke was in the lobby when we came in. Nate handed him the thumb drive. Luke looked down at it confused.

  “That information you wanted,” Nate said with very slow and careful diction.

  “Oh, yeah.” Luke nodded. “Right. The information. Thanks. Got it.”

  “See you later then,” Nate said and left.

  I sighed. “You wanted to see me?”

  He motioned for me to follow him back into the station. We ended up in one of the interview rooms.

  “We’re releasing your car to you.” He handed me the keys to the Element. “The bullet was from a BB gun and given that it was fired from the corn maze, it might actually have been a prank.” He shifted in his seat.

  Sounded like a pretty dangerous prank to me. Shooting at someone wasn’t much of a joke. “Why do you say that?”

  “Like I said, the bullet was from a BB gun. It was a lucky shot that it even shattered the window. It wasn’t going to kill you. It would have stung pretty good if it had hit you, but it didn’t. And hitting you would have been an even luckier shot.”

  “Lucky for whom?” Certainly not for me. “So you’re writing this off as a trick gone wrong?”

  “I think it makes the most sense.” He shrugged. “Kids like to go out in the maze at night. You remember what it was like.”

  I did. There were bets and dares and challenges. Who could get through the maze the fastest in the dark. Who could spend the whole night in the maze. Who was most likely to get caught making out in one of the maze’s dead ends. “I don’t remember any of us ever taking a
gun.”

  “Really?” he asked. “You don’t remember Winfred Hermann and Jack Mena have a target shooting contest?”

  I bit my lip. I did remember that. It had been stupid. We were all lucky that no one had gotten hurt. “This wasn’t target shooting, Luke. This was someone shooting at my window. Or if it wasn’t meant for me in particular, the window of a car out on the road.”

  “Wrong place. Wrong time.” He grinned. “Story of your life, right?”

  I’d known he wouldn’t investigate any farther than he had to. I took the keys to my car. “Thanks tons, Butler.”

  He shrugged. “That doesn’t mean you should be running around poking your nose into anybody else’s business, though. This might have been a prank. It might also have been a warning.” He clenched his jaw for a second, then said, “There’s been a complaint, by the way. Iris Fiore says that you’re stalking her. She’s accusing you of harassment.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Luke, that is ridiculous and you know it.”

  “We take claims of harassment very seriously in this town. If you’ll remember, Jasmine came damn close to getting seriously hurt because of a stalker she didn’t take seriously.”

  I did remember. It had been a terrifying moment. Someone with a knife coming at your best friend. I shuddered thinking about it. “But I’m not a stalker.”

  “Ms. Fiore claims that you’re following her around town. That you’ve shown up at her gym, at her insurance agency, when she’s meeting her realtor. She said you’re even harassing her daughter. Taking photos of her at public gatherings.”

  “I had good reason to be at all those places. Reasons that had nothing to do with Iris Fiore. Why does she think I would be stalking her anyway?” I put my hands on my hips. “She’s not really stalk-worthy.”

  “She says you’re obsessed with her father’s death, that you’re still trying to prove that she murdered him.”

  “Okay. That’s simply not true. I’ll admit. I overheard her and Daisy talking and thought she said something kind of suspicious, but Nate said there was nothing fishy about her father’s death and I believe him. I’ve already apologized to her.”

 

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