A Reason To Kill (Reason #2)

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A Reason To Kill (Reason #2) Page 10

by C. P. Smith


  Lucy mumbled “Coming Mother,” and I rolled to my back and opened one eye, while she stared down at me, arms crossed as if she had a bone to pick.

  “What?”

  “Why’d you run from Max?”

  “How did—”

  “Lucy told me when she came in last night.”

  “Oh, boy—”

  “My boy is stubborn; he isn’t gonna back down just because you ran.”

  “Well, he—”

  “If you’re not interested fine, but you could do worse, that I can tell you.”

  “Maxine, I—”

  “Anyhow, that’s a subject for another time. We leave in thirty minutes. Up, get dressed, and then eat. After, we’ll head over and pick up Martha,” she ordered again then she left the room.

  I looked at Lucy, who seemed to be finding the whole conversation hysterical, and asked her in all seriousness, “Did she just tell me I should sleep with her son?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Now I know where he gets it from,” I yawned as I sat up and headed for my suitcase.

  “Gets what?”

  “His bluntness, it must be a family trait. He holds nothing back, tells you exactly what he’s thinking.”

  “Girl, when they hold nothing back, you get a dirty talker in the sack and that’s beyond hot,” she advised as we both pulled out our clothes.

  “Nope, my emotions have been all over the place regarding Max. When he’s around, I can’t help myself and when he’s not in my face, I want to run and hide. I made my decision last night and I’m sticking with it. I won’t be another notch on his bedpost.”

  “Killjoy, I’d love to know what the King of the mountain’s like in bed.”

  “Sorry, to disappoint, but I have bears and a life sentence to worry about if the chief doesn’t pull his head out of his ass.”

  I pulled my Scooby Doo T-shirt on as we talked. I have a thing for the cartoons of my youth and a love of vintage tee’s. This one sported the whole Scooby gang standing in front of the Mystery Machine. When I was a kid, I wanted that van, and envisioned myself as Thelma, the smart one, who always solved the case. In real life, now that my head was on the line, I wished I had those crazy kids on my side.

  “So which one are you, Thelma or Daphne?” Lucy asked when she saw my shirt.

  “Right, now, I feel more like Scooby or Shaggy along for the ride.”

  “I think you ladies are more Betty and Veronica,” Frank announced from the doorway.

  “Knock would ya, we’re changing,” Lucy snapped.

  “That would be counterproductive, how am I supposed to sneak a peek if I knock?”

  “Perv,” I laughed, throwing a pillow at his head.

  “Agreed, but Maxine wanted me to tell you to get your asses in gear. There are killers to find and muffins getting cold.”

  “Yeah, yeah, be there in a minute,” I told him as I grabbed my shoes. “Come on Betty time to get this show on the road.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Lucy announced.

  I smiled at her and then looked around the room uttering Thelma’s catch phrase. “My glasses! I can't find my glasses!”

  “Jeepers,” she responded.

  “Jinkies,” I replied.

  “Jesus, I think I’m turned on,” Frank laughed.

  “To the Mystery Machine,” I shouted and then grabbed my pack, heading for the door.

  We made our way down the hall and through the great room to the entrance of the kitchen, and then halted. She whispered, “Retreat, retreat,” and we all took a step back in fear.

  Standing with his back to the counter, arms crossed, glaring at his mother as she glared back was the Incredible Hulk, and he was about to lose his ever-loving mind. In his hand was the list of suspects Maxine and Martha had drawn up. Which, incidentally, they’d titled “List of suspect we need to investigate,” so we knew the jig was up.

  Lucy backed up again. I backed up again. Hell, even Frank took a step back when he turned his angry eyes on us.

  “Like, Help!” I whispered in Lucy’s ear.

  That made her giggle and Max narrowed his eyes at me. He scanned my body, took in my shirt, then his jaw tightened. Ready to morph into the Hulk, he turned to his mother and told her, “Swear to God, if you run around this town half-cocked, looking for this killer, I’ll put you in a rest home.”

  “I’d like to see you try, Maximilian. Now go to your meeting, you’ll be late.”

  “You keep your nose out of this, you hear me?”

  Maxine’s own jaw tightened in a mirror image of her sons and then she bit out “Fine, scouts honor.”

  “You were never a scout . . . Jesus H . . . I don’t have time for this shit,” he yelled. “I got a business to run, and town to worry about, I don’t need to add crazy mother to that mix.”

  “Then go, get to your meeting. I promise I won’t do anything stupid,” she conceded.

  Max studied her face then bit out “Fuck,” ‘cause he knew she was lying. Hell, I knew she was lying and I’d only met her four days ago.

  Folding the sheet of paper and putting it in his back pocket, he then turned and informed me, “You and me, we aren’t done, not by a long shot. I’ll see you later and then we’ll talk about your disappearin’ act.”

  “I’ll be busy later,” I informed standing my ground.

  “Yeah, you will, but not doin’ what you think you’ll be doin’.”

  “I’ll be “doin’” exactly what I planned on “doin’” which doesn’t include “doin’” something with you.”

  Max drew in a sharp breath through his nose, then looked back at his mother. “Three days in this house and she already sounds like you.” Then he turned on his heels and headed for the front door.

  Maxine waited about two seconds after he left before she announced, “Change of plans . . . Mia, you take my van and keep Max occupied. We’ll use your Jeep since it’s less conspicuous and Max won’t be looking for it. Ok, get your muffins and coffee, get in the Jeep, and let’s hit the road.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just a damn minute,” I bit out. “I’m not keeping Max occupied while you interview people.”

  “You don’t have a choice. You either keep him occupied or go to jail.”

  “They can’t arrest me if I didn’t do anything.”

  “Tell that to the innocent men and women who occupy prisons all over the country and see what they say.”

  Dammit, she had a point and that pissed me off.

  I needed the police off my back so we could do our work, but most importantly, someone needed to pay for killing Curly and Donald.

  I looked around the room, searching for any other solution and came up empty.

  “Fine, I’ll do it, but under protest.”

  Lucy moved to the counter, then to grab a muffin and a cup of coffee. As she snagged her breakfast, she replied “The way that man just looked at you, the only thing you’ll be protesting is leaving his bed.”

  “I never said I’d sleep with him, I’m only running interference.”

  “I don’t care what you have to do to keep him occupied, just do it,” Maxine ordered heading towards her key rack, tossing me a set of keys. “He’s at town hall for a meeting that starts in ten minutes. It’ll last as long as it needs to with all the bellyachin’ that’ll probably take place. Sit outside until it ends, then find Max and keep him out of our hair. You can do that by apologizing for runnin’ out on him. We may need you to keep him occupied for a couple of hours, maybe longer, so be convincin’ or he’ll know somethin’ is up.”

  “God, this sucks. Every instinct I have told me to stay away from him. It’s like you’re throwing me into a lion’s den.”

  “Nope, not a lion, more like a bear who bellows,” she laughed and then kept moving out of the kitchen. “You can drive Frank. Now let’s get a move on.

  Lucy and Frank both patted me on the shoulder as they followed her out. I wondered as they left, if I tu
rned myself in and confessed, would that be less of a headache. Right about then I was thinking, “You bet your sweet ass it would.”

  Dammit, what would Thelma do in this situation?

  She’d give Thor a Scooby snack to get him to do what she wanted . . . then she’d solve the mystery. Fine, lunch it is. Besides, Scooby Doo was only a thirty-minute show and they always got their man, how long would I actually have to spend time with Max?

  The two-story, wood-framed building which housed the Mayor’s office and police station, sat at the end of Main Street across from the town square. The building had a bell tower, it was painted white with black shutters, and it was decorated for fall. Town square had an old weathered gazebo, covered in vines, and it was large enough to hold a small band. The picturesque setting, like a Norman Rockwell painting, was now full of angry men and women.

  The town’s residents were outraged over the death of Curly Potter, and the vultures were circling with their cameras. Max had seen two news vans when he arrived earlier, and figured more would come now that word was out they had a killer in their midst. Nothing sells like death, even in a small town like Trails End.

  Zimmer’s untimely death would make national news of course. He knew it and couldn’t stop it. His peaceful town had become headline news all because one of his own had decided to kill. The remaining question was who.

  The meeting went as he expected. Citizens were concerned and everyone was suspicious of their neighbor’s actions. One person even suggested they move the bears off Grizzly Pointe to avoid future activists from coming. What had surprised him the most were the questions about Mia being the killer. How anyone could think that half-pint of a woman could kill anyone was beyond him.

  However, he’d wanted to wring her neck himself. She could run, but she couldn’t hide and he planned to rectify that as soon as he locked his mother up in a home for wayward parents.

  Leave it to his mother to come up with a hair-brained scheme that she and Martha could catch a killer.

  Christ, he didn’t have time for this shit, Max thought.

  He didn’t have time to worry about his mother, but he didn’t have a choice. Spread thin on a good day, now he had to add hunt down his mother to his list of things to do for that day.

  Descending the steps, Max headed for the parking lot. When his eyes caught sight of his mother’s VW van, he turned and searched the crowd for her. Since she was here, he could mark one fuckin’ thing off his list and move on to the next.

  As he scanned the crowd, looking for her braided gray hair, he was surprised at what he found instead. Raven-black hair, men’s frames that hid crystal blue eyes, and a Scooby-fuckin’-Doo T-shirt that made his mouth twitch.

  Mia hadn’t seen him and he wasn’t sure if she was there for him or looking for Stetson, but he didn’t care. One scan of her body had his feet moving towards her determined to get a few things straight, namely, she wasn’t running from him again.

 

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