Instead, Crusher handed me two slender pieces of paper: tickets to the monster truck rally.
“You look like the kind of girl who likes excitement. And since I’m busy tonight, watching me is the next best thing.”
If that was a pickup line, he needed more practice. “Thanks. I’ll try to make it.”
“I gave you two tickets so you can bring one of your girlfriends along. I hate to see a pretty lady sit alone.”
“Great.” I was thinking about inviting Jason but kept that to myself.
Crusher broadened his smile. That grin could make a grown woman squeal like a teenager, and I was pretty sure he used that to his advantage. But with his ability to turn it on and off like a light, you had to wonder how sincere it was.
Crusher broke into my thoughts. “It’s my way of saying sorry for the way I acted yesterday.”
Wow, I hadn’t expected an apology. “That’s okay. I mean, I was reading your magazines instead of cleaning your room.” And Crusher had caught me, which was beyond embarrassing.
“I’m not normally like that,” he said. “I’m hyped up about this rally. It’s a big deal for me.”
If Travis was right that Crusher had been in a slump the last few years, I could understand his anxiety.
“A misunderstanding,” I said. “Let’s forget it happened.”
Crusher threw his arms around me in a bear hug, and I automatically returned the embrace. He smelled of motor grease, and I wrinkled my nose.
He released me and stepped back. “See you tonight, then.”
Why did the way he said that make it sound like a date?
12
Crusher headed to the tall pickup truck parked at the outer limits of the lot, and I returned to the house. I cut through the lobby, nodding to Gordon, who was talking on the phone, and went into the office to drop off the tickets, checking the clock on the wall on my way in. Two minutes to ten. My next interview could arrive at any time.
As I opened the bottom desk drawer and stuck the tickets in my purse, my cell phone rang from its depths. I rustled around, shoving my wallet and sunglass case to one side, and finally grabbed the phone, cursing all the while. When would I remember to carry this thing in a pocket?
“Hello?”
“Dana? It’s Jason.”
Instant guilt flooded through me. For one wild moment, I thought he’d seen Crusher hand me the tickets and was calling to stake his claim, but of course that was absurd.
“Dana, hello?”
I sat down and rested one foot on the open desk drawer. “I’m here.”
“Are you available for lunch today? We could meet at Eat Your Heart Out cafe, my treat.”
“Your treat? What’s the occasion?” Did that question imply he was cheap? I needed to work on my flirting skills.
“Lunch with a gorgeous lady is occasion enough.”
I twirled some hair around my finger. “Maybe I can sit with you until she shows up.”
Jason let out a low chuckle that quickened my pulse. “She’ll be so jealous when she sees you that she’ll cancel.”
“You’ve convinced me. See you at noon.”
I pushed the OFF button, dropped my phone in my purse, and vowed to start carrying it tomorrow. I grabbed the papers and pen I’d set on the desk and hurried back out to the lobby to see if my interviewee was on time.
Gordon stood by the ficus, talking to a man in tan Dockers, a white dress shirt, and a navy blue sports jacket. Already an improvement over Travis.
I joined the two men by the potted plant, glancing quickly at the top sheet to remind myself of the man’s name. “Evan?”
He stuck out his hand, giving me a firm and dry shake. “You must be Dana.”
“I am. Let’s go talk in the dining room.”
Evan shook Gordon’s hand while Gordon used his left hand to clap him on the back and give me a thumbs-up that Evan couldn’t see.
Gordon had been right about the last guy, but I’d wait and talk to Evan before I agreed with his assessment of this one.
Once settled in the dining chairs, Evan and I spoke for a good hour; for most of that time he described his childhood in a Buddhist home and how it’d set the course for his life. He insisted on demonstrating several moves, from Downward-facing Dog to the Boat pose. The Dockers gave the effect that he was a businessman on a lunch break, though his flexibility made it clear he didn’t sit behind a desk all day.
After we’d covered his work history and I’d already decided he definitely qualified for Gordon’s second-round interview, I capped my pen and stood.
“Thanks for coming in,” I said. “You’ll be hearing from us, I’m sure.”
“Wonderful,” Evan said. “Any chance I can see where the classes will be held?”
I stepped outside the French doors and pointed to the smaller patio near the pool. “Right there.”
Evan frowned. “In the open like that?”
“Sure. Nothing beats practicing yoga in the fresh air and sunshine, right?”
“I’m worried about the Kama Sutra poses.”
I tapped my palm against my ear to see if my hearing was blocked. “What’s that now?”
Evan reached an arm behind his back and thrust a hip out. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.
“My Kama Sutra poses. I pair off the men and women and have them reenact the more yoga-based moves.”
Did he really use a sex book to design his yoga teachings? I should have known his polished style and stellar résumé were hiding a giant gotcha. “I don’t think that’ll work here. The guests wouldn’t be comfortable with that idea.”
“Not at first, but I give everyone a cup of my kava root tea. It relaxes the mind and lowers inhibitions.”
Why did his tea sound suspiciously like a roofie?
Evan was waiting for a comment. “Get out of here, you pervert” ran through my mind, but instead I said, “I’ll mention that to Gordon.”
“Excellent. I can already tell this place is more open-minded than Yoga for Yuppies. Boy, did they get mad when I held naked yoga week. So did the cops. Apparently you need a permit for that kind of thing.”
Okay, time for this guy to go. Now. “Thanks again. The parking lot’s over there.” I gestured toward the hedge and hurried back inside the dining room before Evan could say more. I glanced once over my shoulder to see him still standing by the doors, a frown on his face. Guess he realized there wouldn’t be a follow-up call.
I went into the office to drop off the papers. Gordon sat in the desk chair, talking on the phone. I signaled to him that I’d finished with Evan, but he waved me away and turned his back. No way did I want him calling Evan back before I had a chance to talk to him, so I jotted down a note that Evan didn’t pass the first interview and left it on the keyboard. That finished, I joined Zennia in the kitchen.
Following her instructions, I prepped the green salads for lunch, laid out the linen napkins and silverware in the dining room, and placed red, white, and blue carnations in the vase on each table. By that time, I already knew I’d be a few minutes late meeting Jason, so I stopped in the bathroom only long enough to brush my hair and apply lip gloss. That done, I breezed past Gordon in the lobby and trotted to my car. I’d fill Gordon in on his little yoga instructor pick when I got back.
The parking lot of the Eat Your Heart Out cafe was full, and I parked on the street under the giant shadow cast by the smokestack of the now-defunct lumber mill. By the time I walked across the potholed lot and stepped onto the wooden walkway with the missing planks, sweat trickled down my back and along my hairline. At least my work shirt was navy blue, which might mean the sweat circles wouldn’t show as much.
I opened the door to the cafe, and a wave of air greeted me as the giant fan near the counter rotated in my direction. I held my arms a few inches from my body in hopes the air would dry my shirt a little.
All the booths were occupied, but I saw an arm waving from the back. I recognized Jason and headed
over. As I slid onto the cloth-covered bench seat, a waitress arrived.
“Iced tea, please.”
She noted the soda already in front of Jason and left.
“Most people towel off after a shower,” Jason commented as I plucked a napkin from the dispenser and dabbed my forehead.
“Ha, ha, very funny.” I crumpled up the napkin and dropped it on the table. With only the standing fan near the door and a handful of ceiling fans, the place was just short of stifling. “Maybe we should have met at the ice cream parlor.”
The waitress reappeared with my iced tea, and Jason and I ordered, a club sandwich for him and a Cobb salad for me. The burgers here were the best in town, but I wasn’t ordering food off the grill in this heat.
I sucked down half my iced tea and felt a hint cooler. “I haven’t been this hot since I took a summer job at the stir-fry place.”
Jason winked at me, drawing attention to his green eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. You’re pretty hot most of the time.”
Well. That little comment didn’t help my already overheated face. I pulled the plastic drinks menu from behind the salt and pepper shakers and fanned myself.
“Anyway,” I said after I’d cooled down, “what have you been up to these days? Focusing on Bobby Joe’s murder?” I tucked the menu back behind the shakers.
Jason pulled a napkin from the dispenser and placed it in his lap. “Writing about the murder has definitely been taking all my time. And this morning, my boss handed down a list of other stories I need to cover. It’ll take me all night to get them done.”
I felt a flicker of discontent in my belly. “Too bad. I have tickets to tonight’s monster truck rally. I was wondering if you wanted to go.”
“I didn’t know you were a fan.”
“I’m not. One of the guests is performing tonight. He gave me the tickets.”
Jason offered a half-smile. “Should I be jealous?”
“You should always be jealous, what with my being so hot and all.”
The waitress appeared with our orders and set the Cobb salad in front of me before moving to Jason’s side to hand him his sandwich. I’d swear she brushed her boob against his upper arm, and a jolt of irritation lodged in my throat. Who was the jealous one now?
I speared an avocado chunk with my fork. “Guess I’ll see if Ashlee wants the tickets.”
“How’s she doing?” Jason took a bite of his sandwich, a glob of mayo sticking to the corner of his mouth. I resisted the urge to lick it off.
“She’s mostly her perky self. But I wanted to ask what you know about Detective Palmer. I’m assuming he’s in charge of the case since he interviewed Ashlee.”
Jason wiped the mayo off his lip. “He moved up here a few years ago from somewhere down near L.A. Wanted to work in a smaller community where he could get to know the people.”
“If you’re looking to move to a small town, Blossom Valley definitely meets the requirement. Is it true he’s Detective Caffrey’s cousin?”
“Yep. Loved it here so much that he convinced Caffrey to move up, too. I heard they grew up down the street from each other, so they’re real close.”
I groaned. “So it’s possible that Detective Caffrey might complain to his cousin about my snooping around in the last murder?”
Jason tried to suppress his smile and failed. “Almost definitely. That was his first homicide, after all, and you stomped all over it. I’m sure he let Palmer know about it, especially if he’s heard your sister is involved this time.”
“Speaking of which, have the police made any progress in Bobby Joe’s murder?” I briefly wondered if the cops had looked at the pictures of Ashlee on her iPod, but I wouldn’t be asking Jason about that.
“No. They’re still tracking down alibis for that window of time between eleven and one.”
I poked at a slice of hard-boiled egg. “Ashlee said she and Bobby Joe got out of the movies around nine. After that, they stopped for gas and then got in a big fight and she was home before I got back at ten. Any idea what Bobby Joe did after that?”
“According to the group he hooked up with, he moped around and tried to get sympathy over being dumped. When that didn’t work, he decided to go practice for the rally. Everyone else went home or hung around in the parking lot. No one saw him after that.”
I set my fork down so fast it clanked against the plate. “If they were in the parking lot, then Ashlee couldn’t have come back without being seen. Surely the police must realize that, right?”
“There’s more than one entrance to the fairgrounds. The detective mentioned that Ashlee could have snuck in another gate.”
The glistening bacon crumbles in my salad looked like fat, greasy worms. “Ashlee didn’t go back out. She was home with me.”
“I know. But they don’t have a better theory right now.”
“What about his employer being mad at him?” I filled Jason in on my conversations with Donald and Tara. “And a neighbor swears Bobby Joe and Stump were both dealing drugs. Maybe they had a fight about business. And Crusher could have wanted his biggest competitor out of the way before the rally tonight.”
Jason smirked. “Crusher?”
“Probably not his given name. Unless his parents had a weird sense of humor. He’s the guy at the spa who gave me tickets for tonight. He’s one of Bobby Joe’s rivals.” I sipped my iced tea. “That leads me back to my point that there are lots of suspects the police should be focusing on. Have you found out anything about Maria? Maybe she had a reason to kill Bobby Joe.”
“I’m looking into it. Same with her husband.”
I swallowed a slice of hard-boiled egg. “I saw her wedding ring, but I thought they might be separated.”
“Nope, in fact they’ve only been married a few months. And the word on the street is that Todd Runyon is the jealous type.”
Jealous types often had violent tempers. I needed to find out more about Maria’s husband and their relationship. But how?
13
I leaned toward Jason so far, my hair dipped into my salad dressing. I grabbed a napkin and wiped off the strands. “How awesome would that be if Maria’s husband found out about the affair and killed Bobby Joe?”
Jason raised an eyebrow at me, and I felt instantly chastened.
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s tragic that Bobby Joe was murdered, but it’d sure be nice if the police could prove the betrayed husband did it and stop considering Ashlee a suspect.”
“There’s no evidence that the husband is guilty,” Jason said. “He claims he didn’t even know about the affair.”
I wadded up the napkin and set it on the table. “Exactly what I would say if my wife’s boyfriend was murdered.”
“Sure, but the police are thinking that if this guy’s lying, who’s to say Ashlee isn’t lying, too?”
I shoved my salad away, my appetite gone. “I’m saying she’s not.”
Jason reached across the table and squeezed my hand, but I pulled out of his grasp.
“Ashlee didn’t kill Bobby Joe,” I said.
“I know. I’m looking at it from the point of view of the cops.”
I leaned back in the booth and crossed my arms. “How about looking at it from my point of view?”
Jason fidgeted with his knife and fork until he’d lined them up. “Look, I’m only pointing out that the cops think Ashlee had plenty of time to go back and kill Bobby Joe.”
“But she didn’t.”
Jason tried again to grab my hand, but I was too far away. “Dana, I know Ashlee is innocent. We’re on the same side here.”
“Not really. You’re a journalist. You’re only after the story. Whatever sells.” I knew I was being silly and defensive, but I couldn’t stop myself. Would it have killed him to not mention Ashlee as a possible suspect when talking to me?
Jason lowered his voice with a tone that bordered on condescending. “That’s my job. But I’m always fair.”
“Good to know.”
; We broke into an awkward silence. I pulled my phone out of my purse and glanced at the time. “Guess I’d better get back to work.” I retrieved some bills from my wallet and threw them on the table.
“Lunch was my treat, remember?” Jason said.
“I’d rather pay for mine, thanks.” I stood and hoisted my purse strap onto my shoulder.
Jason half-rose, but I waved him back down.
By the time I’d crossed the parking lot and gotten in my car, I was over my fit of anger and had moved to bewilderment. The sweltering air felt heavy as it settled in my lungs, threatening to suffocate me. Maybe I should go back in and apologize. Or maybe Jason should have been more supportive. Or maybe we both needed a cooling-off period.
I was glad Jason was busy tonight. I didn’t want to take him to the monster truck rally anyway. At least that’s what I’d tell myself.
I started the car and drove back to work.
In the lobby, Gordon scribbled on his clipboard at the counter. His unnaturally dark hair gleamed under the overhead lights as he bent forward. As soon as he noticed me, he set his pen down, automatically adjusting the knot in his tie.
“Didn’t realize you were taking a lunch break today.”
“Yep, decided to grab a bite in town.” My voice held a note of challenge. After my spat with Jason, I wasn’t taking any of Gordon’s guff.
“I wanted to know why you left me that note saying I shouldn’t hire Evan.”
I gave Gordon a thumbs down. “Evan’s out. We’ll need to interview more candidates.”
“I don’t understand. He was on time. He wore a jacket. He’s perfect.”
If only Gordon had heard the Kama Sutra comments, but the idea of repeating them made me want to gag. “A perfect pervert. Trust me. He’s not a good fit.”
Gordon opened his mouth, no doubt to argue more, but he must have seen I wasn’t in the mood. “I’ll arrange for more interviews. We’ve had a few more résumés come in.”
“Good.”
I stalked to the office, where I thumped down on the office chair and dropped my purse in the drawer. I spent the next couple of hours pretending to work on marketing brochures while pouting about my lunch with Jason. My sulk fest was temporarily interrupted when the Steddelbeckers requested more towels. Considering how many I’d already taken them, they must be furnishing a spare bathroom or two at home.
All Natural Murder Page 10
