by Lynn Cahoon
I watched as he nodded to Aunt Jackie and glanced at Greg before he walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the front door. Only when I heard his Hummer start up at the front of the house did I take a breath and slip into one of the chairs.
“I can’t believe you turned down almost two million.” Greg sat next to me, his hand now covering my shaking hand.
I laughed—the sound coming out tinny and fake. I’d taken the high road and honored my friendship with Miss Emily instead of taking the money. Principles, they’d bite you every time. “What’s a few million dollars?”
Chapter 11
After another trip to the hardware store for a stronger latch for the shed door to install the lock on, Greg laid the keys on my table. “Between that new lock and your new fence, someone would have to be pretty determined to get into your shed now.”
I’d been going through boxes of Miss Emily’s papers, trying to determine what if anything I needed to keep. “Do you know if dead people have to file taxes?”
“What?”
“I’m going through Miss Emily’s files, and I don’t want to throw away anything important.” Please tell me he knows something about this pile of paper, I prayed.
“You probably should ask Jimmy.” Greg nodded at the refrigerator. “You got a soda in there?”
“On the bottom.” I grabbed my to-do list and put Call Jimmy on the top of Monday’s list. Twiddling my pen between my fingers, I glanced at Greg’s back and quickly added Go see Crystal. I needed to put this inheritance thing out of my head so I’d know if I could start making plans for the money that would be sitting in my bank account tomorrow. At least the money that was left after I paid off my credit cards and restocked my savings account from what I’d already spent. If I had to give away the house, I would at least reimburse myself for what I’d already spent.
He plopped down in the chair next to me, popping open the top of the can and tipping his head back to drink. “That chore took longer than I thought. We’ll have to visit the puppies next weekend.”
“I’d like to have the fence done before that anyway.” And figure out if I should keep the house, I added silently. It wasn’t that I didn’t love the house. I did. But if Miss Emily had a legitimate heir, besides her scammy nephew and his wife, the estate should go to that heir, no matter what Jimmy Marcum said.
“Where do you want to take me to dinner?” Greg polished off the can of soda in one more gulp.
“I’m taking you to dinner?” I closed my notebook.
“I guess you could cook me dinner, but I’m not sure if you know how.” Greg leaned back in his chair, playing with the keys from the shed lock.
“I can cook.” I didn’t know where we got from visiting the puppies to me making dinner for him. “But you saw the fridge. I’m pretty low on supplies right now.”
“So, let’s head to Bakerstown. They have a great seafood restaurant.” Greg stood. “And we’ll make a stop on the way home and I’ll buy you a housewarming gift.”
“I thought the shed lock was my housewarming gift.” Examining my jeans and T-shirt, I deemed them clean enough for a casual dinner.
“Nope, that’s so that I don’t get called out here on a prowler call when I’d rather be watching football next Sunday.” He smiled. “I’m charging the cost to the city’s community safety enforcement account.”
“I’ll be sure to thank Mayor Baylor the next time I see him,” I said dryly.
“Why do you have to be hateful? Didn’t you ever hear you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth? Besides, you’ll like my gift.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me up to a standing position. Standing way too close to him. My heart started racing as he put his hands on my arms. “I hope we’ll get a lot of use out of it.” He stared into my eyes and leaned forward.
I closed my eyes. I might be going to hell for this, but at least I could enjoy this one kiss. I waited. Nothing. Then I felt a quick tap on my nose.
“Let’s go then. I’m starving.”
I opened my eyes, and Greg was no longer standing in front of me. I turned and saw his nicely formed backside heading out to the front of the house to his pickup.
You read that all wrong, I chided myself.
Feeling silly, I grabbed my purse off the counter, checked my hair in the hallway mirror, and followed my cop. I tested the lock, making sure it had engaged before I left the porch. If this door stood open when we got back, I could be sure someone had been in the house.
Greg waited in the cab of the truck when I closed the gate. “Door locked?”
“I checked twice.” I threw my purse on the seat and climbed into the truck using the grab bar on the side to pull me upward. “You ever think about adding running boards? I feel like I’m in a semi, we’re so high off the ground.”
Greg laughed. “I don’t have a lot of passengers.”
That’s surprising.
“My Jeep is tall, but this is ridiculous.”
“Hey, I’m a big man, what did you think I’d drive, a subcompact? At least in the truck I can stretch out my legs without breaking through the engine compartment.” He headed the truck down the road that would take us to the highway. “Besides, it’s not a Hummer like your boyfriend’s.”
“Eric Ammond is not my boyfriend.” I thought about the offer I had sitting on my kitchen table. “Why would a developer be willing to wait five years to take possession of a property? It doesn’t make sense.”
“He’s putting a lot of money on something that won’t pay him back for years.” Greg paused. “I don’t know a lot about real estate, but I know there has to be a payout somewhere for him, that’s just common sense. And I don’t see any business in South Cove making that kind of money.”
“I paid a steep price for the building with the shop, but nothing even close to what he’s offering for Miss Emily’s place.” I watched the landscape pass by the window. Usually I drove even when Amy and I went to town. I missed my friend. Amy would know the reasons behind Eric’s offer and why he could wait for the property.
“Have you heard anything about Amy?” I watched Greg’s face for any tells that he knew something he didn’t want to say.
“She’s off the grid, that’s for sure. I had a buddy from the bureau run her credit cards, and there was nothing since she bought a dress a month ago at one of the boutiques in South Cove.” Greg shook his head. “The mayor’s theory about her being off surfing sounds plausible, except wouldn’t you need money on a vacation?”
“Unless you aren’t on a vacation.”
“Yeah,” Greg said. We sat in silence for several miles. I watched the seagulls fly and dive over the ocean and thought about my friend out there somewhere, hopefully riding the waves safely on her surfboard—as safe as you could be surfing. A thought crossed my mind. “Greg, have you been to Amy’s apartment yet?”
“That’s my second stop tomorrow after I see if she shows up for work.” Greg glanced over at me. “Why?”
“If she’s surfing, she would have taken her board and gear.” Amy had told me that it had taken her years to find the right board for her. She wouldn’t head out for mondo waves without it.
Greg kept silent for a few moments, considering my words. “You’re sure she wouldn’t just use rental stuff when she got there?”
“Greg, she shipped her board to Australia so she didn’t have to use rental stuff. She said it was like cheating on a husband: Once you found a board, that’s the one you used.”
“I’ll look into it.” His tone of voice changed, and I took his clipped reply to indicate he was done talking about it. But I knew I’d stirred some doubt.
Neither Greg nor I spoke the rest of the drive. I twisted around thoughts about Amy and where she could be if she wasn’t surfing. Miss Emily’s voice broke through the fog: “No use worrying about tomorrow—there’s plenty to keep you busy today.” I laughed at the memory of her sitting in a rocker, shaking her knitting needle at me.
Greg slowed d
own and turned into the parking lot for the restaurant, Sea Delights. I hoped the food was more creative than the name.
“The food’s great here, really.”
I blushed. “I wasn’t laughing at the restaurant. I just remembered something Miss Emily told me once.” Great, now he thought I’d second-guessed his choice in eateries. “She always told me not to get tied up in things I couldn’t control.”
Greg turned off the truck and leaned back into his seat. “Deal with today’s fires and let tomorrow be?”
“Yeah, something like that. One day I sat on her porch complaining about not having someone in my life, about the store, about my family.” I paused. “I guess she got tired of it and told me to stop.”
“My grams used to tell me the same thing. She said there wasn’t no point in worrying about something that might never happen.” Greg stared out the truck window. “And I have to agree, I never thought my life would lead me here. A big city cop or a fed, maybe. Not stuck in the same small town where I went to high school—dealing with drunken tourists and bored kids.”
“Believe me, living in the city’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I couldn’t wait to get out and have a second to breathe.” I put my hand on Greg’s arm, wanting to comfort him. His arms were steel. I wanted to squeeze and run my hand up and down his shoulder, checking for muscle. Touching Greg felt like holding on to a statue. My body reacted in ways I didn’t want to admit.
I pulled my hand away. Just friends, just friends—I chanted my new mantra.
“Well, enough of the deep heartfelt confessions, let’s eat.” Greg bounded out of the truck and walked over to open my door. “You’ll love this place, I promise.”
We entered the dark building, and the smell of homemade bread made my stomach growl loud enough for Greg to hear.
“I told you.” He went up to the hostess stand, where a young woman in a white shirt and blue skirt had just finished taking a phone reservation. When she smiled at us, I gasped. Both Greg and the woman stared at me.
Crystal Dunn stood to greet us.
“Are you all right?” Crystal asked, apparently not recognizing me from my semi-stalking incident from yesterday.
“I’m fine. I mean, I just remembered something.” Greg stared at me while I rambled. “Do you have a restroom?” Dodge and weave, dodge and weave.
She pointed to her right, the restroom sign clearly visible. “Do you want me to wait and seat you when you’re back?”
“I’ll wait.” Greg appeared concerned.
Great, now he probably thinks I’m about to throw up or something. “No, go ahead. I’ll catch up.” I needed a couple of minutes alone with Crystal to feel her out on the Miss Emily stuff. She didn’t look like a killer, although a long shift as a hostess could drive anyone to murder under the right circumstances. I headed to the restroom and waited long enough for Crystal to escort Greg to the table. Thank God the room smelled of pine. I’m not a big fan of public bathrooms, but sometimes a girl has no choice.
I cracked the door and peeked out. Crystal stood alone at the hostess stand. As I headed toward her, she stopped reading from the textbook.
“I’ll show you to your table.”
“Actually, can we talk a minute?” I walked closer to the stand, hoping this wasn’t a mistake. I tried to peek over the top of the stand to see if she had a knife tucked behind the stand. Nope, just a copy of a child physiology book. She saw me glance at the book.
“I’m taking night classes.” She held the book up. “Are you in Professor Caldwell’s class, too?”
Here we go. I took a deep breath. “I’m Jill Gardner, and I own Coffee, Books, and More in South Cove.” I waited to see if any glimpse of recognition of the town crossed her face.
“Why do you want to talk to me?” Crystal seemed confused, not angry or scared.
“I wondered if you knew someone who lived in South Cove, Miss Emily?”
Sadness filled Crystal’s face, and she nodded toward the seating near the windows. “Let’s sit down. I have a few minutes, the dinner rush hasn’t started yet.”
We sat on tan upholstered settees facing each other. I waited for her to continue.
“Let me guess what you think you know. You and that lawyer guy have me all figured out, right? I’m some gold digger trying to con an old lady.” Crystal fought back tears now.
“Jimmy Marcum?”
“He came by my house one day after I had tracked Miss Emily down and left her a picture of Annie.” Crystal’s eyes were distant as she watched the traffic pass on the street. “He said he’d investigated me. He called me a fraud.”
“Why do you think Annie is Miss Emily’s great-granddaughter?” I put my hand on the young woman’s arm, hoping to calm her.
“Because Henry told me she was.”
Totally confused, I asked, “Who’s Henry?”
“Henry is … was … married to Mary, Joshua’s mother. Annie’s grandmother.”
“So Joshua is Annie’s father.” I started to think I needed a program to keep all the names in my head.
“He was killed in a car accident. When she found out, Mary just kept repeating, she’d lost them both. Henry couldn’t calm her down at the hospital.”
“Both? Joshua and who?” I needed my notebook to write this stuff down.
“Bob, Joshua’s dad. He died in Vietnam before Josh was born, just like what happened to Annie.” Crystal eyed the dining room but I ignored her visual cue.
“And Bob was Miss Emily’s son.” I finally tied the pieces together. I glanced at Crystal for confirmation, but she stared past me.
“Sounds like motive to me,” Greg’s voice came over my shoulder. He glared at me. The ride home would either be very quiet or I would get my head bit off.
“Greg, this is Crystal Dunn. The woman I told you about?” I’m sure my polite introduction wasn’t going to calm the waters now, but I could try.
Greg shook his head. “Jill, why don’t you go wait for me at the table. I’ve ordered an appetizer.”
I felt like I had been caught cheating on a test. “Crystal, if you ever want to talk—” I ignored the glare coming from Greg. She knew where to find me.
Greg sat down in my place—waiting for me to leave.
“Be sure to tell him about what Mary said,” I called out to Crystal.
Greg pointed to the dining room.
“Fine,” I said to no one as I walked toward the tables. We were the only couple in the restaurant, so finding our table wasn’t rocket science. A baked crab dip steamed on the table, a loaf of fresh bread next to it, and a large iced tea rested beside my plate. I sat down and listened, trying to overhear Crystal and Greg’s conversation, but the Muzak version of “Tie a Yellow Ribbon” filled the silence.
I ripped off a piece of bread, dipping it into the crab mixture. The sweet creamy dip filled my mouth, and I quickly took another bite. It would serve him right if this dish from heaven was all gone by the time he got back to the table.
I only had time to scarf down half of the dip before Greg slipped into his chair across from me. He put his napkin on his lap and reached over for a piece of the bread. “You like the dip.”
“I love it. Tell me what Crystal said.” I leaned forward, the food temporarily forgotten.
“If this Mary is right, Crystal did have motive to kill Miss Emily. Especially after Jimmy Marcum visited and basically called her a con artist.” Greg popped a piece of bread and dip into his mouth. Then he chuckled. “She’s still hot about his visit.”
“Do you think she could have …” I still couldn’t say killed, and tears filled my eyes when I thought of poor Miss Emily lying so still in her bed.
“Not really, but if Jimmy turns up dead, she’d be first on my list of suspects.” Greg chuckled, using the last of the bread to clean off the edges of the crab dip. “She felt hurt Miss Emily didn’t take the time to get to know Annie. Now it’s too late.”
I leaned back in my chair. We still didn’t
know any more than we had last week. In fact, things were worse. Miss Emily was dead. Amy had gone missing. My windfall inheritance might be Annie’s. And now I was at dinner with a great-looking guy who seemed to be into me—except for the fact that he was married. I had become a walking, talking country song.
The waiter showed up at the table and set a large bowl of clam chowder in front of me. The creamy, fat-filled kind rather than that tomato broth stuff. And he brought a new mini loaf of bread that smelled like it had just come out of the oven. I grabbed my spoon and took a bite. I made some sort of growl of happiness. Greg started laughing.
“I told you the food here was great.” He ripped a piece of bread off the new loaf and handed it to me. Looking into his eyes, I felt like I’d fallen into a deep pool, warm and comforting.
What the heck? I thought as I took the offered bread. Even country songs need to eat once in a while.
Chapter 12
The sun shone blindingly through the windshield as Greg drove toward the highway. Our dinner had been amazing except for the silence between us. Every time I’d think of something to say, I’d realize it came back to the investigation. Or his family life. Two subjects that I was trying to stay away from. I knew our time together wasn’t anything more than him either just being nice to the potential murder suspect or victim, depending on the day.
I’d watch him suck the crabmeat out of shells and wondered what thoughts were running through his mind. Was it Crystal, Amy, or even just Miss Emily and the whole inheritance thing? I think the death threats actually took me off the suspect list—at least for now.
I leaned back in my seat, the warm sun mixing with the effects of my full belly. I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep until a hand gently shook my shoulder.
“We’re here.” Greg’s warm voice broke through my slumber.
“Wow, I didn’t think I’d been asleep that long. Sorry.” I peeked through my sunglasses and saw the looming store in front of me. “Wait, where’s here? This isn’t South Cove.”
