I crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash. It was time for me to move on.
Chapter 27
Kent slipped into his Chicago Bears’ jacket and kissed my forehead. “Thanks for letting me go to the Super Bowl party, honey. This is going to be the game of the year.”
I nodded, my throat tightening. I still couldn’t believe Kent had forgotten our anniversary. Even if everything else in life was going wrong, if my marriage still gave me hope, then I knew I’d be okay. But for Kent to forget our anniversary—what did this say about our marriage?
I nodded as he took off for Darius’s place. Then I donned my own jacket so I could drive to Hillary’s. I wasn’t looking forward to her annual “Souper Bowl Spa Party.” Not only did I not want to see Hillary again, I also didn’t want to ask her about the screen as I’d promised Steele I would do. Mostly, I just wanted to stay home and feel sorry for myself.
I plastered on a smile when I walked into the party. A lot of the women from the neighborhood were already here. I doubted most of them wanted to be here—Hillary really didn’t have any friends. They were probably here hoping to get on her good side so she’d be a little more lenient with them should they break the association rules. My mom had always told me I should be in good graces with the people who held the power.
Hillary had little centers set up all over her house. In the dining room, people were doing their nails. In the living room, a professional masseuse gave back rubs. In the TV room, a romantic comedy played. And, of course, in the kitchen, there were a variety of soups—everything from broccoli and cheese to gazpacho.
I chatted with Tiara and Karen Jones, and even briefly with Emma Jean.
I really wished Babe were here. I wanted to pour my heart out to someone about how Kent had forgotten our anniversary. I didn’t realize how much I’d come to depend on Babe as a confidante.
Tears rushed to my eyes at the thought of leaving her behind. Even though I complained about our adventures, Babe had added a lot of fun to my time here in Boring. I’d miss her terribly when I moved. I hadn’t had any good friends in Chicago, friends I trusted enough to share the really important stuff with.
I needed to get to a bathroom to compose myself, I realized, as tears threatened to escape. I tried the one downstairs but someone was using it. I didn’t think Hillary would mind if I used the upstairs one. I padded up the steps and away from the noise of the party. After clearing the landing, I passed two doors before seeing the bathroom in the distance. Voices behind one of the doors caused me to stop.
“I’m tired of pretending, Hillary. We can’t keep this up much longer.”
“You will keep pretending! Our money troubles are no one’s business. As far as they know, we’ve got everything together.”
I stepped into the bathroom, knowing I shouldn’t listen to Hillary and her husband argue. Yet, I couldn’t help it. Their hushed whispers weren’t soft enough.
“We can’t continue living at our current level. We’re just setting ourselves up for an even bigger and more public failure if we do.” Hillary’s husband sounded weary.
It was good, in one way, to know that other couples had their problems too. Yet, I hated it sometimes when I realized that life was never as easy as I’d like.
Their secret would be safe with me. I sure wouldn’t want Kent’s and my dirty laundry to be aired for the whole neighborhood.
When I returned downstairs, I tried to pay attention to the girl talk around me as we painted our fingernails and scrubbed the dead skin cells from our feet. After hearing Hillary and Mark talk about their financial problems, my mind continually wandered back to the association’s books. Why did I have the feeling the answers waited for me there? Answers that would get Donna out of jail and put the right man or woman where they belonged?
I just needed to look at the ledger one more time. Surely I could figure out what was nagging at the back of my mind.
I stood, causing the cucumber slices to fall from my eyes. Thankfully, the other women couldn’t see me because of their own vegetable-covered lids.
“Ladies, I just remembered that I need to run home and check on something. I’ll be right back.”
“Can’t it wait?” Gia asked.
I wanted to lie and say something about a candle that I’d left burning or something. But I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t add lying to my list of things of which to be ashamed. “No, actually, it can’t. I really must run right now. I should only be gone a moment, though.”
It wasn’t until I was outside that I realized I still had the avocado mask slathered on my face. If I talked too much, it would crack. Hopefully, I wouldn’t see too many people while I was out since everyone was either watching the Super Bowl or avoiding it. I’d wait to wash it off. After all, I was going back to the party. Why ruin a perfectly good moisturizing treatment?
The cold air outside caused my mask to instantly tighten and feel even more tingly than before. I fished my keys from my pocket and rushed to my car. The drive home only took a few minutes. I glanced across the street at Tiara’s house and saw all the lights on. I imagined the men inside eating nachos and popcorn and rooting for their favorite teams.
I glanced at our own garage, where I’d planned to surprise Kent with his man cave. Now I might just cancel my order for that stupid couch, even if I lost money in the process. I don’t know why I ever thought the man cave was a good idea. I should simply resign myself to a loveless marriage for the rest of my days. Since I didn’t believe in divorce, that seemed the only alternative.
I hurried inside the house, catching a sniff of the apple- scented air fragrance I’d plugged in earlier. Well, at least I did that right. I may not be a housekeeper, but I knew how to make things smell good.
Seemed an appropriate job description for someone who used to work in public relations.
I ran upstairs to my bedroom, where I’d left the file on the homeowners’ association’s treasury. I crunched the numbers again. Math may not have been my strongest subject in school, but I did have an eye for detail. Something wasn’t adding up.
Sure, the association had paid its regular bills for the maintenance of the pond and lawn care. But the statement I’d picked up from the bank clearly reflected a lower account balance than our records showed.
Candace had been the only one with authority to write checks. Had she been stealing money? Who else could be taking it?
One face stood out in my mind.
Chapter 28
I jumped into my SUV and took off toward the bank. I hastily threw my vehicle into park on the street and rushed to the door. Relief filled me when the door easily opened. Mr. Willis really needed to make sure his doors were locked, but right now that worked in my favor. Inside, the lights glared and soft music played overhead. I saw no one.
The office! They had to be in the office. I hurried across the tile floor, my heart racing erratically. I flew down the hallway, caught the door facing, and swung myself into the room in a way that would make any detective proud.
Two heads bobbed on the couch. One wearing a fedora, and the other stylishly white.
I open my mouth to speak when I realized what I’d walked in on. Babe and Paul—kissing?
Oh, my eyes.
Perhaps it was my sharp intake of breath that gave me away. Babe stood and squinted at me.
“Laura? What is wrong with you? What’s on your face?”
“My face?” I touched my cheek and felt the avocado mask. “Oh, that. It’s nothing.
“You look like you’ve been through a tornado.”
I caught my breath and shook my head. “Wait. You two. Together?”
Babe blushed, and looked with glowing eyes at Paul. “We can’t deny our feelings anymore.”
Great, my best friend had found love again—with a killer. I extended a cautious hand, determined to make Babe understand the seriousness of the situation. With a steady voice, I said, “Babe, I think you should step away from Paul.”
/> “Why would I do that, Laura?” Babe blinked her eyes at me innocently.
Paul’s brows furrowed together, and he tipped his hat back so I could better see his eyes. “Yes, why would she do that?”
I reached my hand out toward her, as if I were in a lifeboat and she were drowning. “Babe, just listen to me. Come over here with me. And whatever you do, don’t eat that cake.”
Babe’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t think you drank alcohol.”
I paused. “What? I don’t.”
“You’re acting like you’re three sheets to the wind.”
Irritation threatened to boil over, but I managed to keep my tone even. “Babe, Paul killed Candace.”
At that, Paul released Babe—or maybe she released him, not sure—and they stepped apart, looking suspiciously at each other.
“What are you talking about, girl? I didn’t kill anyone!” His hands went to his hips.
“You’re the only one besides Candace who had access to the association’s treasury. You’ve been stealing funds, and Candace found out. You had to keep her quiet.”
“Why in the world would I steal from that measly little treasury, little girl? I have enough money that I don’t have to work—I do it because I like to.”
Good point. I couldn’t let that logic deter me, though. He was the only one with access. Paul had to be the killer.
I pointed at him and took a step back, just in case he had any tricks up his sleeve. “Maybe it’s just for the thrill of seeing what you can get away with.”
“He didn’t do it, Laura.” Babe stepped into the crook of his arm.
I shook my head, trying to warn her to stay back. She didn’t listen. How could Babe not trust me, after everything we’d been through together? Besides, I thought she despised Paul. I guessed that sometimes love and hate could look an awful lot alike.
“Babe, this theory is the only thing that makes sense. He did it!” I tried to beckon her with my eyes. “Please believe me.”
Paul threw his free hand in the air. I could see he was frustrated. “We were discussing bankruptcy, you foolish girl! The store isn’t doing well, in case you haven’t heard. I was giving her some options.”
I shrugged. “A likely story.”
“Besides,” Babe looked at the floor. When she glanced back up, I think I saw her blush. “He has an alibi.”
“Who?”
“Me. Paul and I were together on the night Candace died, having dinner.”
My mouth gapped open. “You two have been seeing each other that long? I thought you hated each other.”
Babe tilted her head to the side and said matter-of-factly, “Certain things are best left private, Laura. I didn’t want everyone in this town knowing my business. Besides, I had to play hard to get. No man wants a woman who chases him.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. How had I missed this? Some detective I’d turned out to be. I’d think about this romance later. Now, I had to figure out who killed Candace. The answer was at my fingertips. I could feel it.
I leaned against the doorframe, suddenly exhausted. “Well, who else could have stolen the money? The figures definitely don’t add up—you don’t have to be a math expert to figure that out.”
“There’s only one other person authorized to access the account.” Paul locked his gaze with mine.
My ears perked, as my hope surged. “And who’s that?”
Paul looked at me like I should know the answer.
And right then, I did. I threw my head back and groaned. “How could I have missed that person?” The answer had been right in front of my eyes the whole time.
Chapter 29
I passed Hillary’s house on the way home and saw that the party was still in full swing. Silhouettes congregated behind the window shades, cars lined the street, and nearly every window was lit.
I had to get those record books before I went to the police station with my claims. Paul and Babe were already on their way there to back up my story.
I threw my car into park in my driveway and ran into my house. I didn’t bother to turn the lights on. I had one goal: get the ledgers and leave. I had no time to waste.
My fingers ran over the table by my entryway, the place where I’d deposited those records. I felt the rough edges of a terracotta pot and the feathery wisps of the fern spilling over its sides. I felt the smooth line of the candy dish, filled with chocolate. But no books.
“Are you looking for these?”
I gasped at the strange voice in my house. Hillary.
I looked up and saw her form in the distance, waving the books in one hand and firmly grasping a gun in the other.
My throat went dry. I had to play it cool. “Hillary, what are you doing here? I thought you were at the spa party.”
She stepped closer and narrowed her eyes. “I saw you leave and followed you. That’s when I overheard your conversation with Babe. Figuring out who killed Candace took you longer than I anticipated. You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”
I held my hands in the air, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything. I was just about to go back to the party.”
Hillary scowled. “You’re an awful liar. You were going to the police. I can’t let things end like this. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am.”
I’d try the give-it-to-her-straight method now. “You did work hard to get to where you are. Why blow it by stealing from the treasury?”
“I have a certain standard of living, you know. How were we to know the housing market would dry up? Lenders—like Paul Willis—won’t give us the money to develop new neighborhoods. Everyone thinks I’ve got it together. I couldn’t let them know that we don’t have the money to even pay our bills.”
“But you’re all about following rules. It’s no wonder I didn’t guess you killed Candace. How could you? Murder, Hillary?”
“She found out I’d been doctoring the books and began blackmailing me.”
Blackmail? I didn’t expect that.
“I couldn’t let her go to the cops, but I couldn’t afford to pay her anymore, either. Killing her was my only choice. I tried to make it as painless as possible. The little witch didn’t even deserve that. She made my life miserable.”
“There’s no way you can cover up killing me, too, Hillary. Babe and Paul know you did it. They’re probably telling the police now.” Please, God, let them be telling the police now. I needed to buy more time. “I thought you were up in Indy on the day Candace died. The police said you had an alibi. People at the banquet saw you there.”
“You certainly do your homework, now, don’t you? I just made an appearance at that banquet. Then I slipped out, stopped by Candace’s house to discuss a few things. I made sure she munched on those pork rinds while we spoke. Very few people knew she loved the things as much as she did—she’d just started a low-carb diet, and they were one of the few snacks she could eat. As soon as she slipped into sleep, I made sure she never ran her big mouth again.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I made sure it looked like Donna did it. That was the easy part, as much as she always talked about those stupid cleaning cloths. She even gave me a sample, hoping I’d like them as much as she did. Little did she know I would really like them—as the murder weapon.”
“How’d you know she used sleeping pills?”
Hillary shrugged. “I didn’t. That just so happened to work out in my favor. About half of the population in the U.S. uses them at some point, so those statistics really worked in my favor.”
“How’d you poison the pork rinds?”
“Easy. My husband had a master key made to all of your homes when he built this neighborhood. I could get into anyone’s house whenever I wanted. Convenient, isn’t it?” She sneered. “Any more questions, Mrs. I-can’t-mind-my-own-business?”
“Why’d you stick the letter in Donna’s mailbox instead of mine? I know you knew the difference.”
/> She smiled as if I’d complimented her. “Easy. I wanted Donna’s fingerprints to be found on the letter in case you turned it into the police.”
“And the videotape? The bugging? They just don’t make sense, Hillary.”
Her smile slipped. “I wanted to make you paranoid. I wanted to make as many people as possible look guilty so I would look innocent. I studied to be a private detective several years ago. They taught me all about how to spy on someone.”
“You were a private detective?”
“No, but I figured the information would come in handy one day. And it did. After I videoed you and set up that bug I just sat back to enjoy the show. The way you went all over town, searching for evidence, jumping at every little sound. People were beginning to think you’d lost it, Laura. That was all a part of my plan.”
“And you wanted to make Donna look guilty? After the police had arrested her, you ransacked the pharmacy. Why would you do that?”
She shrugged, her eyes absent of emotion. “That’s was just my way of trying to get you and your husband to leave town. I didn’t realize how much fun I would end up having as I tried to ruin people’s lives. I’m pretty good at it, it turns out.”
“Killing me won’t make anything easier for you, you know.”
She nudged her gun in the air. “Everyone can see you’re unhappy living in a small town, Laura. You tried to support your husband’s dreams, but just couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t wait for your house to sell to get out of town. You had to leave now. That’s what the note will say.”
“What note?”
“The note you’re going to write before I kill you and make you disappear.”
I swallowed. The action hurt. “Even if you cover up my murder, you’re still going to be charged with Candace’s death.”
“They can’t prove it. Besides, a sudden job opportunity will mean that Mark and I have to move. I’ll be long gone before this police department pieces together everything. When they look at the books, they’ll see that you started doing them a few months ago—you should have read that paper I had you sign more carefully. All the evidence will point to you as the person responsible for her death. You were coming unhinged, dear. Everyone can see that.”
Death of the Couch Potato's Wife: Cozy Christian Mysteries (Women Sleuth, Female Detective Suspense) Page 19
