by Lynn Cahoon
But it’s your money. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?
My evil side tried to talk me out of opening Pandora’s box. That was when I knew that I had to go investigate. I never trusted that voice.
The address for C. Dunn took me just to the edge of the bad side of town. Houses here were small but well-kept, lawns green and flower beds well-established if not overgrown. The mailbox out front just said Dunn. No first name. I sat in my Jeep in front of the house mulling over what I would say. “Hi, I’m the woman who got the money you were trying to scam out of Miss Emily?” That seemed a little harsh. As I was still going over opening lines, each one worse than the last, my cell phone rang.
I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked up anyway. It was probably the construction crew telling me the house had to be torn down due to ginormous termites living in the basement. “Hello?”
“Hey, where are you?” a male voice asked.
“In Bakerstown.” Now I knew there was trouble at the house. It had to be one of the construction guys, since no other guy ever called me. “Tell me, what’s wrong with the house now?”
“The house looks fine from what I can see. The outside is a mess and you can’t even tell that the lawn was mowed yesterday due to the siding demolition, but I’m sure they’ll clean that up before they leave. Why are you in Bakerstown?” the voice asked.
“Who is this?”
“Greg. Greg King. Who did you think it was?” Greg’s voice boomed through the phone.
“I thought it was one of the builders telling me the house had fallen in on its foundation.” I sighed, relieved that the house hadn’t realized that my savings account had been refilled and decided to tap it for more changes.
“So again, now that you know it’s not one of the builders, I repeat my question. Why are you in Bakerstown when you are supposed to be here?”
“I stopped by Jimmy Marcum’s to sign the final estate transfer paperwork, and now I’m sitting in front of a house wondering if I should go in.” I shouldn’t have said that last part.
“Sitting in front of whose house?” Greg’s investigative tone came over the phone.
I opened the door, I might as well share, and maybe Greg would have insight as to how I should do this. “Crystal Dunn’s house, I hope.”
“Who’s Crystal Dunn, or do I want to ask?”
“I found this picture of a baby, Annie. Sadie from the church said that Crystal had brought Miss Emily a picture of the baby, Miss Emily’s granddaughter. Well, great-grandbaby.” I continued to watch the house.
“And you thought you’d see if everyone else was wrong? Girl, why can’t you leave things alone? You remember that Miss Emily’s killer still hasn’t been found, and this is an open investigation. Right?”
“I just wanted to meet her.” Why did I feel like a teenager being corrected for staying out late?
“Let me do the detective work. It is my job, you know.”
“I know, I just thought—” God, I sounded like a whiny teenager.
Greg interrupted. “You didn’t think. Now get out of there and get back here. I’m sure there are enough things at the house to keep you busy and out of trouble.”
“Fine.” I hung up the phone. I didn’t need someone telling me what to do. Although I hadn’t thought about the possibility that Crystal could have killed Miss Emily. Even though I hadn’t met the girl, her being a murderer didn’t seem right.
Wait, what was Greg doing at my house? Then I remembered.
We were supposed to go and see the puppies today.
I put my phone down and started to pull the Jeep away from the curb, but something caught my eye.
An older sedan pulled into the small driveway. I watched as a young man got out of the driver’s side, a blonde woman in her early twenties climbing out the other. They both went to the back and opened the doors. He pulled out two bags of groceries and a twelve-pack of soda. She reached in and pulled out a baby. When they reached the front door, the man pulled keys out of his pocket, and opening the door, gave the baby a kiss on the way in. If this was Crystal Dunn and Annie, there seemed to already be a father attached to that baby. Maybe Jimmy Marcum and Miss Emily were right; the visit had been a con.
I watched the couple struggle with the diaper bags and the groceries. When they finally got everything inside and closed the door, blocking my view, I wrote down the address and phone number from my scribbled note to my notebook. I’d call in a few days if I couldn’t get the baby out of my mind. I had run around on some wild goose chase when I should be back in South Cove working on the house and getting a new puppy with Greg.
Married Greg.
Okay, so missing the puppy run probably wasn’t the worst idea I’d had for a while. I put the Jeep into gear and headed back to South Cove. First, though, now that my savings coffers were built back up, a stop at the Home Heaven was in order. Both bathrooms needed to be refurbished, and I might as well get some idea of pricing while in town. And maybe a few more cans of paint.
The phone rang again. Probably Greg checking up on me to see if I’d left the Dunn house. I picked up and said, “I’m on my way to the home improvement store. What do you want?”
“Why are you wasting your time fixing up that house? You’ll be the next body Doc Ames will cart out of there if you don’t sell.” The phone line went dead.
Chapter 9
I made it home in record time, all ideas of stopping and leisurely looking at tubs and faucets out of my mind. I called Greg on the way, and when I pulled into the driveway, he sat on the front porch waiting for me.
“Let’s go over this one more time. He mentioned Doc Ames specifically?” Sitting in the kitchen on our second pot of coffee, Greg was in full detective mode.
“He only said two sentences, I’m pretty sure I remembered all of it.” I felt edgy and annoyed. The coffee was probably to blame for my mood, but I couldn’t shake the chill.
“And you’re sure it was a man’s voice.”
Now he was getting on my nerves. “Yes, I’m positive. Why are you still here and not pulling my phone records or something like they do on television?”
“I have Toby pulling your phone records. I’m here investigating. That’s what I do. Me, not you. What were you thinking going over to that house? You could have been walking into anything, a drug lab or something, or been accused of stalking. Do you want to wind up missing like your friend?” Greg got louder as the lecture progressed. He stood and walked around the living room.
His words stung.
Was it my fault that Amy had gone missing? Did someone catch her hiding under her desk, talking to me?
“I didn’t think it would be this big of a deal. I need to make sure that the baby isn’t related to Miss Emily. I couldn’t live with taking that money if it was supposed to go somewhere else.” I sank down deeper into the kitchen chair I’d shoved into the living room to save it from paint splatters that morning. In my defense, I added, “I asked Jimmy Marcum first before I went.”
“And he told you that the girl was a scammer and not related to Miss Emily. I’ve already talked to him. So you decide to go make sure? What were you thinking?” Now Greg paced from one side of the room to the other, but the kitchen table and chairs were making his progress choppy. He stopped pacing, stood in front of the table, and asked, “Why is this in the living room?”
Desperate to change the subject from my carelessness, I answered. “I painted the kitchen today. Do you want to see?”
“Sure.” Greg didn’t sound like he wanted to see.
We walked into the kitchen with the new stainless steel appliances and the freshly painted walls. All I needed to do now was have someone come in and reseal the wood floors. I had spent most of last night on my knees scrubbing the floor down and had been pleased with what I had found under the grime. “I’m going to leave the cabinets alone. They need a good scrubbing, but other than that, they’re in excellent shape.” I opened up a cabinet and showed him
the interior. “See, lots of room.”
Now that I’d taken out the ten sets of china Miss Emily had stashed.
“This is amazing. It looks totally different.” Neither one of us acknowledged our meeting the morning I’d found Miss Emily. “I wouldn’t have picked the colors, but they work. Do you want me to help you move the furniture back?”
“I can do it.” I didn’t need him hanging around helping me with my decorating when he should be with his wife.
“I know you can do it. I asked if you wanted me to help.” Greg’s gaze poured over my body, making me think of being closer, much closer. “You’re not getting rid of me until Toby calls back with the phone records, so you might as well make use of me.”
I shivered at the thought of making use of him, my mind clearly in the gutter. “You don’t have anywhere you need to be?”
“Nope. Just here.”
I didn’t believe him. But my shoulders ached from the scrubbing and painting earlier. A little help moving furniture wouldn’t be the end of the world.
Just don’t look into his eyes. Or touch him.
Two hours later, we sat on the back porch, sipping a cold beer. The kitchen was back in commission, and the first floor bedroom had been stripped of furniture and carpet and was ready to paint. If I could keep Toby from calling for a few days, Greg and I’d have the inside of the house done by the end of the week.
“I’m going to set the room up as my home office. At the apartment, I had work stuff all over the place.” I took another drink from the longneck bottle. “This way, I can just close the door on my clutter.”
“Does the shop keep you busy?” Greg sat on one of Miss Emily’s rockers on the other side of the porch. I could barely see him. The darkness crept from the lawn to the porch except for the light from the kitchen shining through the screen door.
“Between the shop and my consulting job for the city, I’m pretty busy. Or at least until Aunt Jackie showed up. Now I’m stuck in remodeling hell and she gets to sit around and redesign my shop.” Ouch, that came out a little harsh. I backpedaled. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate her help.”
“It’s just hard to see what you’ve worked for being changed without your input.” Greg finished my sentence. “Toby told me a little about what’s happening in the shop. You do know your aunt hired him, right?”
I sighed, bone-tired from the moving. I knew much more lay ahead of me before I could even start to take the shop back from Aunt Jackie. “Yeah, she told me. See, that’s the thing. She told me. She didn’t ask me. She just read over the books and hired someone. Then she tells me I should get rid of the bookcases and stop selling books because it takes up too much room.”
“But isn’t that part of the theme? You get to have your coffee and pick out a good book, too?” Greg’s voice sounded deep and comforting from across the dark porch.
“See, you get it. I don’t think she does. It’s not her shop, for God’s sake.” I hadn’t had anyone to vent to since Amy disappeared. Too bad the sexy lawman sitting in the dark on my back porch was already spoken for; otherwise, we wouldn’t be on the porch right now. “Shouldn’t you be going home?”
“Trying to get rid of me?”
“No, I mean, I’m fine if you need to leave.” I stumbled over my words. His leaving was the last thing my body wanted. But my head had to stay in control.
“Someone threatens your life today, and you’re fine? You must live a more interesting life than I thought.” Greg stopped rocking and stood. “You ready for another one?”
Why not?
“I guess,” I said, hesitantly.
“You might as well relax a little. I don’t think anything’s going to happen tonight. Or it would have already happened.” Greg took the bottle I had been playing with for the last ten minutes from my hand. “You need to set up a cooler out here so we don’t let the bugs in your house at night getting another beer.”
The screen door banged shut behind him.
I needed to set up a cooler? Would we be drinking beer on my porch another time?
My mind raced. Maybe they were separated—divorced, even. Maybe I misunderstood his brother. This was stupid. I needed to ask him, to clear the air. I refused to be the other woman. I’d seen how that game worked out and I didn’t need a broken heart.
I watched a firefly dance down by the shed where I found the paintings. Even at that distance, the bug put off a lot of light. It must be huge! I’d loved watching fireflies when we visited Grams at her home down by the Missouri River. They made me laugh just watching them. But tonight I wasn’t laughing. Something nagged at me. Greg? Nah, that resembled a raging war inside my head. Something else.
“What has you so deep in thought?” Greg handed me the new bottle, cold from the refrigerator. He offered me an open bag. “I found a bag of pretzels to go with the beer. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I’m watching the firefly down by the creek.”
“You’re what?” Greg’s voice had gone tight, his cop voice. I turned to look up at him.
“The firefly down by the old shed where I found the paintings.”
Greg put his beer down. “Do you have a flashlight?”
“Yeah, right inside the door in that top cabinet. Why?”
“California doesn’t have fireflies.” Greg went back inside to get the flashlight. When he came out, he turned the light on to check it. “Go inside and lock the doors. I’ll be right back.”
I stayed frozen on the porch step. “Do you think someone’s there?”
“We’ll talk after I check it out.” Greg started across the lawn. “And get your cell phone, just in case.”
I hurried into the house.
Locking the back door, I ran upstairs to my room to grab my purse and the cell phone. On the way back to the kitchen, I checked the front door and double-locked it, too. Then I stood guard at the back door. Glancing out the window, I tried to see Greg or his flashlight. Nothing. I took a swig of the beer he’d just brought me and considered chugging the entire bottle to quiet my nerves.
Changing my mind, I went over and started a pot of coffee. I wanted to be sharp just in case I needed to drive or run or … Or what, Jill? You’re building this into something it’s probably not. Calm down.
That’s easy for you to say. I pushed back at my calming voice, tired of arguing with myself.
I sat down at the table and viewed the dark backyard, my garage light only covering half of the grassy area. No Greg. I checked the time on my cell. Five minutes had passed. Seriously? It seemed like an hour since he’d left the porch. I grabbed one of my decorating magazines and started flipping the pages.
I didn’t want to call the police too soon and embarrass Greg. Besides, Toby would probably be on call and then he’d tell Aunt Jackie and then I’d get the third degree about my non-relationship with the hunk running around my backyard, looking for trouble and nonexistent fireflies.
I heard steps on the wooden porch. Looking out the window, I saw Greg standing there waiting. I unlocked the door and waited for him to come in the house. “What? Was it a prowler? Was someone in the shed?”
He put the flashlight back in the cabinet by the door. Then he sat down at the table. “I’ll take a cup of that coffee.”
I pulled out a cup and poured. “Black, right?”
“That’s fine.” Greg wasn’t talking.
I gave him his coffee and sat in the chair next to him.
“Thanks.”
“What was out there?” I tapped my fingernail on the table. “Tell me.”
“Probably kids.” Greg hesitated. “You need to get a lock for that shed. I saw beer bottles piled up and a blanket. Miss Emily always turned in early, so they could be used to using the shed for extracurricular activities.”
That sounded logical, but it just didn’t ring true. “You think teenagers were looking for a secluded place?”
Greg glanced at me over his coffee cup. “Or someone’s watching you. I found
a set of binoculars in the shed, too. Which story will let you sleep better at night?”
“I’ll get a lock for the shed tomorrow.” So much for our peaceful night sitting on the porch getting to know each other. Of course we shouldn’t be sitting on the porch, together, alone. Married guy, remember? My willpower was weakening.
Greg checked his cell for the time. “It’s after ten. I guess they didn’t get the phone records yet from your stalker call.”
“If you need to go, I understand.”
Greg glanced at me, puzzled. “Is my company that disturbing?”
“Huh? No, I love, I mean, I’m having fun, in a creepy Halloween sort of way.”
“Then why are you trying to get rid of me?” At that moment, his cell rang. “I’ve got to take this.” He walked into the living room.
Because you’re married, I called out to him on the inside. I pulled out a blueberry coffee cake someone had dropped off and cut several slices. I’d just polished off my second slice when Greg walked back in the room. He grabbed a piece and sat down.
“Sarah Jenkins makes the best coffee cake in town.” He popped the rest of the piece into his mouth. He seemed to inhale the food. “Toby called. The phone records came back, finally. We traced where the threat call originated.”
God, this man loved his drama. “Are you going to tell me?”
The look he gave me when he put his cup down seemed to be mixed with determination and fear. “The call came from one of the extensions at City Hall.”
Chapter 10
Greg stayed long past midnight, and after splitting two pots of coffee, I didn’t get to sleep for a couple of hours after he left. I checked the locks on the doors and windows three times before, exhausted, I put a chair up against my bedroom door and fell into a fitful sleep. My mind kept going over the recent events. Miss Emily’s death, Amy’s disappearance, the funeral, my inheritance, the angry nephew, the mayor and his threats, it all kept rolling around, mixing together and not making any sense. Amy sat on a bench crying. I tried to get to her, but piles of roof shingles and siding were blocking my path. I could see her, but I had no way to reach her. I started climbing over the piles when my cell phone went off. I woke up in bed covered with sweat and Amy’s cries for help still ringing in my ears.
