by Kym Roberts
“I think I need—”
“Go, before they get themselves in trouble,” I said.
He was torn between babysitting me and keeping the two women from causing a commotion. In the end, duty called and he walked across the small chapel, weaving his way in and out of the people standing in the aisles.
Scarlet yanked on my arm. “Do you see who Liza Twaine is interviewing?”
She nodded toward the front of the chapel where a high school picture of Eduardo Rodriguez was sitting on an easel at the head of the casket. It was sad to think that his only photograph was a yearbook photo taken at least ten years earlier. Sterling Koch sat near the photo in the front row, a handkerchief crushed against his face and his brow drawn in grief.
“He’s the only one here who’s shedding a tear. That has to mean Sterling knew Eduardo.”
I was getting the same impression. I had a short internal argument with myself about taking advantage of the man at a time when he was grieving. I ignored my nagging conscience. “Should we approach them together or separately?”
“Together. I’ll distract Liza—”
“—and I’ll talk book business with Sterling.”
Scarlet led the way, talking to a few of the people we knew along the way up the main aisle. Joe and Leila were the hardest to get past. They’d heard rumors about the Mystery Moms and wanted to know exactly what kind of women their head waitress had become involved with. I assured them it was nothing more than a mystery book club and the members were just caught up in trying to solve a riddle.
Leila frowned. “I’ve been thinking about joining the Mystery Moms, but their recent activities have me a little skeptical about how much of a book club they really are.”
“It’s only a one-day-a-month commitment. And even then, most of the members will miss a month or two because of prior commitments. Don’t be put off by their current activity—it’s not the norm.”
Leila looked skeptical but said she’d try to make the next meeting.
Scarlet and I pushed through the crowd, and I held back as she approached Liza Twaine. I couldn’t hear the conversation, but the reporter became extremely interested in what Scarlet had to say and was gone faster than a babysitter’s boyfriend when a car pulled up in the driveway.
I eased into the pew next to Sterling. “I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. “I didn’t know you were close to Eduardo.”
“He was one of my best customers.” Sterling blew his nose. “He didn’t talk much, but he loved sci-fi almost as much as he loved gaming. It was the one topic he could talk about easily. In fact, he was the one to convince me to try—” Sterling stopped short and blew his nose. I couldn’t tell if he was lost in the memory, or if he thought he’d said too much.
I prodded for more. “Try what?”
Sterling looked up from his hanky, his gaze shrouded with suspicion. “Nothing. It didn’t work. It doesn’t matter.”
I nodded and asked about what kind of sci-fi Eduardo liked best, hoping to get him to open up further. Sterling, however, turned the conversation to business.
“What are you doing for your signing with Lucy Barton?”
I could tell he was fishing, and believed I had some hidden agenda for approaching him in the first place, so I told him everything to earn his trust. I didn’t know the man well, but he’d already said he saw the Book Barn Princess as major competition, instead of a business he could work alongside.
“Besides having the winners from the Book Seekers app, we have a gift basket full of Midnight Poet Society swag, and we’ve thrown in autographed copies of the first two books in the series. The latest book they can get at the signing. Readers can enter the drawing throughout the week, but they must be present at the signing to win.”
“That’s a good idea.” Sterling appeared shocked that I would share how I was going to run the book signing. It wasn’t any big secret; any customer coming into the store would hear the same spiel. Yet for some reason, Sterling believed I was sharing secrets. Which was fine by me.
“How were you able to get Lucy Barton?”
“It wasn’t me. It was my cousin Jamal. Ms. Barton’s daughter is working on the app with him and she wanted to help launch it.”
“Oh.” Sterling was obviously disappointed that I couldn’t share a way for him to get a New York Times best-selling author into his store.
“So, your cousin developed the app?”
“Yeah, he’s a computer geek. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be tied to Lucy or the app.”
Sterling nodded.
“When do you plan on re-opening?” I asked.
“My remodel was supposed to be done this week, but it still has a month to go because of our electrician getting electrocuted. OSHA’s investigation took a while and the electrical company is going to have to work us into their schedule which has put other contractors off schedule as well.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sterling shrugged.
“Are you planning on having a grand opening?”
“I was going to launch a new app, but with your Book Seekers, and Delbert—that’s pretty much ruined.” His voice became bitter.
“What does Delbert’s death have to do with your re-opening?”
“He created the app. Without him, there’s no one to run it. His brother Marvin could, but he won’t.”
I wanted to know more about this app Sterling was talking about, but was afraid if I asked more detailed questions, he clam up and never say another word. I decided to stay on the reopening subject before I spooked him good. “Do you have any other plans for your reopening?”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet. I know I need to do something.”
“Maybe you could come by the Barn and we could brainstorm.”
“You’d do that for me, even though we’re in direct competition?”
“We’re more like neighbors. Isn’t that what neighbors do for each other?”
“It depends on the neighbor.”
I would have agreed with Sterling before I returned to Hazel Rock. In my hometown, everyone seemed to help each other, and if we were at odds, we worked it out. Even the town council, who wanted us to shut down the app, had agreed more discussion was needed. I also understood J. C.’s insistence about shutting it down. He was trying to do what was best for his wife, just as I was trying to do what was best for my family. Only time would tell which direction we took.
Our conversation turned to upcoming book releases and which ones we thought would be the best sellers. Liza Twaine returned, her jaw taut with irritation. Scarlet and I had duped her, and she didn’t like falling for a con.
I gave my condolences once more and moved away. Dean MacAlister was my next stop. Standing on the side aisle, he was talking to some of his employees, but the conversation appeared stilted. Dean saw me coming and turned toward me.
“Hi, Princess. Did you know Eduardo?”
I stuck with my noncommittal response. “Not well. I just came by to pay my respects.”
“It’s sad when a man that young dies without a legacy.”
I agreed, but wasn’t quite sure I understood the importance of a legacy if there was no one to share it with. Eduardo had been alone in life; wasn’t that even sadder than not leaving anything that had his name printed on it?
“Was he a good employee?” I asked.
“He’d only been with me a week, but he came into work on time and stayed late when I needed him to. I had no complaints.”
“Did he have any friends at work?”
“No. During his lunch breaks he tended to go out to his truck and read a book.”
“What kind of truck did he drive?” I asked.
“A 1995 Ford F150. It wasn’t anything special, but he said it belonged to his father and he didn’t plan on getting rid of it.”
Suddenly finding the truck seemed important. “What color is it?”
“Fire-engine red with graphic art on the driver’s side. Eduardo was never able to finish it.”
My heart began to pound. Jamal had been run off the road by a red truck. Jamal hadn’t known the make or model, but from his description, I was betting Eduardo’s truck had run my cousin off the road. And it sounded an awful lot like the truck I saw right before the semi lost its trailer in the river. “Where is this truck now?”
Dean shrugged. “I assume Mateo has it. Otherwise, it may be out at my house. I haven’t been out there since Eduardo rented it and moved in, but I’ll have to go through it and pack up his stuff sooner or later.”
Another place to start looking for clues. “Has Mateo been out to the house?”
“They came out the day after the murder with a search warrant. I asked him to let me know about next of kin so I could forward his belongings. So far, Mateo hasn’t found anyone.”
“I suppose you’ll have to go through his paperwork and see if he had a will.”
“I just need to find a time to get out there and do it.”
“Maybe Sugar could help,” I suggested. “She’s scheduled at the Barn this weekend.”
If I got my daddy to work, I could go join her and look for clues that might tie Eduardo to the anonymous donor, or to Delbert Perkins murder.
“I’ll have to ask her how she feels about that. It may creep her out to go into the house alone.”
“If she needs someone, I can go with her,” I offered. I felt like a heel for suggesting it, but I didn’t have any other choice. I wanted solid evidence to show the town council on Monday that the app had nothing to do with Eduardo Rodriguez’s or Delbert’s murders.
“I’m sure she would appreciate that.”
I talked to a couple of his mechanics and then moved on to some of the employees at the bar. No one had seen Eduardo the night he was killed. Most of the employees at the Shed had never even met Eduardo.
Mateo came up alongside me. “What in the world did you do to Liza Twaine?”
“I haven’t even spoken to Liza, other than to say hello.”
“She suggested that I arrest you for interfering with a police investigation.”
“You do know that she’s barking up the wrong tree, don’t you?”
His eyes crinkled. “I think she’s barking up a tree, but I’m not sure it’s the wrong tree.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I think both of you are pretty darn close to interfering in something you have no business dealing with.”
“That’s a fair assessment, Sheriff.”
“We’re back to you calling me Sheriff?”
“Only when you’re talking business.”
“And if I was talking dinner?”
“Then I’d definitely call you Mateo. Does that mean you’re asking me out?”
“Depends…”
“On what?”
“On whether you and Cade are an item. I don’t take the sheets off another man’s bed.”
“The only bed in my life is my own…and the only one who visits it is a hard-shelled pink armadillo.”
“Then I suppose I am asking you out to dinner.”
“If that’s the case, then I suppose my answer would be I’d love to go.”
“Are you available tonight?”
“Can I check my schedule and get back to you?”
He smiled that smile that could make a grown woman blush. The one that tickled my toes and made me anxious to begin our date.
“Just don’t keep me waiting too long. A man’s got to eat, especially when his appetite is getting the best of him.” Mateo squeezed my shoulder and went to talk to Joe and Leila.
“What was that all about?” Scarlet asked.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing doesn’t make your face heat like a burning flame in a bookstore. Nor will it dry your dress.”
“I can assure you, my dress is still soaked. I’m afraid to sit down. I left a mark on the pew next to Sterling. I felt like a grade-school student who’d just had an accident in the lunchroom.”
“That must’ve been what turned up Liza’s lip when she sat down.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “She sat down where I’d been sitting?”
“She did. It’s priceless. I got it on video.”
“Get out.”
“You’re starting to sound like your cousin.”
It was true. Living with my cousin again felt good. I liked having someone in the apartment other than an armadillo. But I wasn’t sure how he would feel about me bringing the sheriff home. It was going to be hard enough having Mateo pick me up at home.
But it was definitely a price I was willing to pay. After all, a date’s a date.
Chapter Twenty-Two
We returned to the Barn a little over an hour later and the rain had stopped. Daddy was manning the store and said Jamal had gone out to buy computer parts. I went upstairs and changed into something more comfortable—and dry. I put on jeans and a T-shirt I’d had made up for the store that read: A Barn Full of Books is the Perfect Castle for This Princess. It was my favorite T-shirt, especially since it had a picture of a pink armadillo on it.
Princess watched as I changed my clothes. She appeared to nod her head in approval when she saw the T-shirt I put on.
“Do I dare try to fix my hair?” I asked.
Princess walked away. I took that as a no and left my ponytail in place.
“Come down to the Barn, and I’ll give you a treat,” I said. Princess followed me to the hidden entrance to the bookstore as if she understood every word. Once downstairs, I put some mealworms in her lunch bowl. It was the one food I refused to have in my apartment, and even though it wasn’t time for her to eat, I figured everyone deserved a treat on a cold, rainy day. Once she was fed, I took a moment to text Mateo.
I think dinner at seven would be very nice.
He replied a moment later. Are you asking me out on a date, Charli Rae?
I couldn’t help but smile. The man had charm, but he was the one who asked me out. I was just confirming the time. I texted back: If you feel the inclination to renege on your offer for dinner because I’m a woman who frequently has bad hair, has a tendency to fall in the mud, and likes to drive you insane, then I suppose I will understand.
The response that came across my phone made a bad morning good. When you put it like that, how could I possible refuse such an incredible woman? See you at seven.
It was a great ending to our conversation, until I remembered my obligation that night. I texted back: I should warn you, I must be home before midnight.
Will your fairy godmother take away your dress?
LOL. In your dreams, Sheriff. No, we’re having a Midnight Poet Society poetry reading.
His question came immediately. Midnight Poet Society?
It’s a poetry reading to celebrate the release of the series. We’ve had it planned for months.
Moments went by with no response. I wasn’t sure if I’d said something wrong or if he’d just gotten busy and didn’t have time to respond. Finally, he wrote: I’ll have you home by eleven. See you soon.
I made my way to the front of the store thinking about what I had learned that morning. Eduardo had been a regular at the Book Grove. So much so that Sterling Koch had truly mourned his passing. I also learned that Eduardo had recommended something to Sterling that Sterling wouldn’t share. And lastly, I could get access to Eduardo’s house through Sugar. That was definitely something I needed to do.
I found my dad watching a large man behind the register who had our computer pulled apart on the counter with my cousin. Next to Jamal, the six foot nearly three-hundred-pound man looked small, despite the differe
nce in their waist sizes.
“Hi, Daddy. Hi, Jamal.”
“Hey, cuz. I didn’t expect you back so soon. I was doing a little programming on the computer and needed some parts. Mac was kind enough to come over and help me out.”
I knew exactly who the soft teddy bear of a man was with the bushy brown hair: Mac Patterson. I remembered him coming into the store and looking through our computer section and making friends with Princess. Today, however, he had on a ball cap which made me remember seeing the quiet man sitting alone at the diner like Scarlet had said. He’d nodded when people said hello, but rarely said two words to anyone.
“You must be Mac Patterson,” I said as I held my hand out in greeting.
Mac looked up, and his ruddy cheeks turned three shades darker—closer to purple than red. His eyes lifted, but immediately went back down to the work in front of him, and I dropped my hand, knowing he wasn’t about to shake it. Instead, he reached down and scratched Princess behind the ears as she huffed her demand for attention at his feet.
“Mac was Delbert Perkin’s partner.” I could see my cousin’s brain working. He was fishing as much as I was that morning at the visitation. “He’s had his hands full with the business, but agreed to come out and help me since I couldn’t take it to him.”
“We appreciate you making a house call,” I said. “I know you prefer to work out of your home.”
Mac’s eyes rose for just a second. If I hadn’t been watching closely for a reaction, I would’ve missed it under the brim of his hat.
“Mac was just telling us about a lawsuit Delbert had against his former employer before he died. It was against J. C.”
“Delbert worked for J. C.?”
Mac didn’t look up.
“Before joining Mac’s computer business, Delbert worked for Calloway Industries in Oklahoma City.”
“Really?” Again, I looked to Mac for confirmation. Still nothing.
“He was fired after he threatened to destroy J. C. and his business when his boss refused to give him pay for all of the call-out time he’d put in to fix the company computers.”
“They didn’t pay him for his call-out time?”
