by Gail Oust
CJ leaned back and savored a sip of bourbon. “Our son didn’t want his momma makin’ a fuss about him wantin’ to take a gap year is all. Lots of kids do it.”
“Chad has been working like crazy to make good grades for the sole purpose of getting into a top-ranked med school. Now suddenly he wants to gallivant all over Europe? I don’t get it. What’s changed?”
“Her name’s Brielle and, from everythin’ Chad’s said, she’s quite a looker.”
“But—”
“Chad’s love life is only part of it,” CJ cut me off. “He feels he’s been missin’ out by keepin’ his nose to the grindstone. He wants to experience life from more than the pages of a textbook. Needs to spread his wings. To kick up his heels.”
Seemed like a lot of spreading and too much kicking to suit me. “Call me a fuddy-duddy, CJ, but exactly how does Chad plan to finance this … this … journey of discovery?”
“I told him not to worry. To consider it a loan from his old man.”
“Swell.” My voice oozed sarcasm. “I hope he plans to spend some time at home before jetting off to explore the world.”
CJ’s cell phone rang, ending further conversation. “It’s a client. Mind closin’ the door on your way out, darlin’.”
And just like that I’d been ousted.
I started down the hallway but paused when I heard raised voices from Matt’s office. I stepped behind an artificial ficus and tried to look like a leaf.
“How stupid do you think I am?” Wanda demanded. “Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes. Do you honestly expect me to believe these charges were work related?”
“I’m telling you, they were.”
“According to the expense report you turned in, the charges are for two people—not one. Sounds like you and Mary Beth took a second honeymoon and expect the firm to pay for it.”
“Take my word for it, Wanda, a honeymoon couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Hmph!” Wanda snorted. “Why else would you spend a weekend at the Marriott in Augusta? The amount you charged for food is outlandish—pan-seared duck breast and grilled ahi tuna—when you could have ordered Domino’s.”
“I worked the entire weekend,” Matt insisted angrily. “Now sign the damn voucher so I can get reimbursed.”
“I will, but repeat this scam I’ll go straight to CJ.”
Wanda stormed out and down the hall. I waited until she returned to her own office and slammed the door before stepping out from behind the potted plant. I started past Matt’s office, but the door was ajar. Unable to resist peeking inside, I saw Matt slumped at his desk, his head in his hands. He looked so dejected, so disheartened, I simply had to find out why.
“Hey, Matt,” I said from the doorway. “Are you all right?”
He raised his head. “I suppose you heard everything.”
I entered his office and quietly closed the door behind me. “No need to worry, I won’t mention the conversation I just overheard to CJ. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Sorry you had to witness the scene with Wanda,” he said tiredly. “She’s only doing her job. Can’t fault her for that. I told Mary Beth not to pursue this, to consider it an out-of-pocket expense, but she’s a stickler when it comes to our personal finances.”
“If it was a legitimate, work-related expense, you deserve to be compensated.”
He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Right now, my life’s one hot mess.”
I advanced farther into the room. “Is Shirley partly to blame?”
“Yes.” Matt blew out a breath and stared up at the ceiling. “Shirley was fantastic, but she wanted more than I was willing to give.”
“Things such as marriage, maybe a family?”
Matt nodded, his expression downcast. “Shirley’s biological clock was ticking. She wanted to get pregnant, have a baby.”
“And you didn’t.”
“Hell, no.” He barked out a laugh. “My son’s ready to enroll in college. Why would I want to start all over with diapers and three A.M. feedings?”
“Was Shirley the reason Mary Beth followed you to Augusta?”
“Yeah, indirectly.” Matt made what sounded like a half laugh, half sob. “Mary Beth suspected I was having an affair, but until that photo appeared on the memory board at Shirley’s funeral she didn’t know with whom. She discovered I had planned a weekend getaway and where I was going to stay. She burst into my hotel room like gangbusters, dead certain she’d find me and the ‘other’ woman flagrante delicto.”
I hitched the strap of my purse higher on my shoulder. “So, what did she find?”
Matt smiled but without humor. “She found me flat on my back—alone—except for a nearby ice chest. I’d just come from having a vasectomy at my urologist’s office.”
I was momentarily stunned speechless. I don’t know what I expected to hear, but this definitely wasn’t it.
“Strange as it sounds, Shirley’s the reason I had the procedure done. During an argument, she threatened to stop taking her birth control pills. I didn’t want to chance that happening.”
“No, of course not,” I murmured.
“I have to hand it to my wife. She’s an old-fashioned Tammy Wynette stand-by-your-man kind of gal. When she realized what I’d gone and done—and how much pain I was in—she never ventured from my side the entire weekend. She’d make one hell of a nurse.”
“Exactly when did your vasectomy take place?” I had to ask, had to know, but was afraid he’d tell me it was none of my business.
“Ironically, the same weekend Shirley’s body was found—the weekend of Melly and Cot’s wedding. And—” He thumped his desk for emphasis. “—Wanda’s got the damn receipts to prove it.”
* * *
After leaving the law office and returning to Spice It Up! I went upstairs to make dinner. I opted for one of my daughter’s favorites—spaghetti casserole. While it baked and with Casey along for companionship, I walked the short distance to Creekside Savings and Loan and dropped the green zippered bag of cash into the night depository. Zach VanFleet spied me as he headed for his car and gave me a friendly wave.
Zach seemed a personable sort, I mused on the way home. Much more forthcoming than the secretive Colin Flynn, who had magically appeared with some cockamamie story about needing peace and quiet in which to write the great American novel. Did the man think I was born yesterday? Just wearing glasses and having a professorial air didn’t make one a writer.
Lindsey had already finished setting the table by the time Casey and I came home. “I made a salad—but only a small one—to go with the spaghetti,” she announced. “I’ve eaten enough lettuce in the last two weeks for a herd of bunnies.”
“I didn’t know bunnies came in herds.” I took the casserole out of the oven and set it on a trivet.
She shrugged. “It was a question once on a general science exam. A group of young rabbits with the same parentage is referred to as a litter, and a group of domestic rabbits is sometimes called a herd.”
I poured each of us a tall glass of milk. “I’ll try to remember that in case I’m ever a contestant on Jeopardy!”
Dinnertime was filled with Lindsey’s endless chatter about prom and the after party her father and Amber hosted. CJ had not only a pool but also a pool table, a state-of-the-art sound system, and a media room. I could hardly compete with his array of techno toys. To be honest, though, it was a much pleasanter topic than that of having our home vandalized by a thug in search of … drugs, money, valuables? Was the BCPD any closer to discovering the culprit’s identity? I needed to check with Beau Tucker to see if he’d made any progress on the case.
“All my friends think Chief McBride is really hot—especially for being a cop and an older dude.” Lindsey sliced off another serving of spaghetti pie. “Some of the guys wondered if he was packing. Was he?”
I speared a cherry tomato with my fork. “Yes, he was, I’m happy to report. He had his weapon drawn and
ready when he went upstairs to make sure the burglar was gone.”
Lindsey shuddered dramatically. “I feel safer knowing Clay installed a new door and a heavy-duty lock. Even so, it gives me the creeps to think someone broke into our home.” Then, without missing a beat, she changed the subject. “I can’t wait to meet the girl Chad fell head over heels for. I can’t believe he wants to take a year off to go trekking around Europe. It doesn’t sound like my saintly brother. I never would have guessed he’d postpone med school.”
“Me neither.” I scooped up the last bite of casserole on my plate and gathered the dirty dishes. “It will seem strange this fall with both of you gone. I’m already suffering the onset of empty-nest syndrome.”
“I should hear soon from the colleges I applied to; then we can do some serious shopping.” Without waiting to be told—which I interpreted as a sign of maturity—Lindsey loaded the dishwasher. “Promise you, I’ll get home more often than Chad. It’ll be almost like I never left.”
After Lindsey went off to study for finals with her friend Taylor, the apartment seemed unnaturally quiet. I roamed room to room giving each one a cursory inspection. I’d put in long hours yesterday restoring order, but, except for having to replace the drawer of my computer desk, everything had pretty much been returned to normal. I was about to pass Lindsey’s bedroom, which had been spared the intruder’s wrath, when I spotted the box containing Shirley’s designer shoes on the foot of the bed.
“Sorry, Shirley,” I said aloud. “I didn’t steal them; I only borrowed them. Certainly you wouldn’t begrudge my girl the loan of a pretty pair of heels for her senior prom.”
But the shoes just sat there, a silent rebuke that I’d pledged to return them along with a grim reminder of the flash drive I’d found hidden inside one of the toes. And not an ordinary flash drive either, but a password-protected one.
CHAPTER 27
EARLIER THAT DAY, Reba Mae and I had rehashed finding a flash drive in, of all places, a pair of shoes but failed to come up with a satisfactory explanation for what it was doing there. Maybe three heads were better than two when it came to solving the riddle. Since it wasn’t late and seeing as I had nothing better to do, I decided to solicit a third opinion. I hadn’t heard from McBride since he’d dropped me off yesterday morning. I didn’t relish the notion of sitting around and waiting like an insecure teen for the phone to ring. How pathetic was that for a woman my age? So we had made love, not once, but twice. No big deal, right? After all, we were two single, consenting adults. No reason to feel awkward or embarrassed the next time we saw each other. Still, I couldn’t stifle a tingle of anticipation at the thought of seeing him again.
I tucked the flash drive into the pocket of my jeans, then packed up what was left of the spaghetti casserole, snatched the shoe box off Lindsey’s bed, snapped on Casey’s leash, and started out. Thanks to daylight savings time, the sun was just starting its descent, spreading a rosy-golden glow across the western sky. Before driving to McBride’s, however, I detoured to the historic district.
Upon reaching Shirley’s, I sat in her drive for a long moment admiring the graceful lines of the old Victorian. Until recently, Brandywine Creek’s historical district had been a closely guarded secret. Due to the state’s off-the-beaten-path marketing strategy, the town had been discovered. As a result, the plan was bringing more tourists into my shop as well. Felicity Driscoll’s bed-and-breakfast and the Brandywine Creek Opera House were also popular destinations for folks wanting to escape the hustle and bustle of their daily lives.
I rolled down the passenger side window for my pet. “In and out,” I told him. “Five minutes max.”
I wrinkled my nose the instant I entered the foyer. The house had acquired even more of that musty, unlived-in odor since my previous visit. The place needed tenants who would complete the renovations Shirley intended and lavish it with TLC. I made a mental note to ask Vicki what Shirley’s brother planned to do with the place. The location was prime, so I doubted it would remain on the market long.
I unlocked the front door and started up the stairs but caught myself repeatedly glancing over my shoulder. The fine hairs at the back of my neck prickled. Something felt … off … almost as though I was being watched. Strange. Logic told me that I was here alone. Yet I couldn’t escape the feeling that something was amiss.
Shadows skulked in the upstairs hallway, filling it with gloom, and adding to my unease. In and out, I reminded myself. Five minutes max as I’d promised Casey. Going directly to Shirley’s bedroom, I threw open the closet door … and stared in mute surprise.
A veritable mountain of peep toes, platforms, pumps, wedges, and sandals lay in a jumbled heap on the floor. I might not have been the epitome of tidy in my frantic search to find Lindsey a suitable pair of shoes, but this wasn’t my handiwork. I shivered. Someone other than me had been here—and when they didn’t find what they were looking for my home had become the next target. I felt that with unshakeable certainty. I practically threw the box of borrowed footwear at a now-empty shelf and fled the house as if chased by the hounds of hell.
Casey greeted me with a flurry of tail wagging, eager to be off on our next adventure. “Let’s blow this pop stand, puppy dog,” I told him as I cranked the engine, shifted into reverse, and backed down the drive.
The episode left me rattled. Yet, at the same time, it lent an odd sense of exhilaration. I sensed I was getting closer to the truth. Was the tiny storage device I’d found the key to unlocking the mystery of Shirley’s murder? If so, the secret was safe from everyone except a skilled computer hacker. I was still mulling this over when I pulled into McBride’s drive.
Self-doubt belatedly kicked in. What was I doing, coming here? A man as good-looking as McBride must’ve had his fill of women vying for his affection—the brazen hussies. But I was neither brazen nor a hussy, I rationalized. I simply wanted to exchange information and brainstorm theories. So what if I’d brought along food? Man can’t live on pizza and fried eggs alone. Besides, it wasn’t as if I’d made spaghetti casserole with him in mind.
I climbed out of the VW with Casey nipping at my heels and went up the porch steps. I knocked, but when no one answered I was tempted to do an about-face. I’d no sooner taken a half step back when the door swung open.
“I … um…” Words deserted me.
McBride, naked to the waist, stood toweling his wet hair. He grinned at seeing me. “This is a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting company.”
My mouth suddenly dry, I swallowed and held out the foil-covered dish. “Supper.”
He peeked under the foil. “Perfect timing. I was just about to crack open a can of soup. C’mon in.”
Before I could reply, Casey scooted through the open doorway. I spied Fraidy, who had deigned to come out to inspect McBride’s visitors. Seeing who it was, the cat took one look at me, lifted her tail high in the air, and disappeared into one of the bedrooms.
I followed McBride into the kitchen. “Don’t read too much into this, McBride. It’s only leftovers.”
“Never apologize for bringing leftovers to a starving man.” He snagged a denim shirt from the back of a chair and shrugged it on. “Join me?”
“Thanks, but I ate earlier with Lindsey.”
“So this is all for me?” He sliced a generous wedge of spaghetti pie onto a plate, slid it into the microwave, and set the timer. “Unless you’ve developed a taste for beer, all I can offer is coffee or Diet Coke?”
“Soda will be fine,” I said, taking a seat on the lone stool at the breakfast bar. “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea about my coming here tonight.”
Taking a can of diet soda from the fridge, he popped the tab and placed it in front of me. “Like get the notion that you’re after my fine body?”
I tried not to stare at his hard-muscled chest visible courtesy of the unbuttoned shirt. “That’s not funny, McBride,” I said, trying to sound stern. “I’m here in an official capacity and can’t stay l
ong.”
“I was afraid of that.”
My heart did a strange little tap dance at hearing this, making me wonder if palpitations like Shirley had complained about were contagious. “Button your shirt, for heaven’s sake, before you catch a cold.”
“Nothin’ you haven’t seen before, sweetheart,” he said with a trace of pure Georgia in his drawl, more amused than offended.
I felt a warm rush of color to my cheeks. Would this blushing like a schoolgirl ever cease? “Understand, it’s not a complaint but a distraction. Bottom line—” I cleared my throat. “—I need to get home before Lindsey does. I don’t want her coming into an empty house until the person or persons responsible for trashing my home have been found.”
The microwave pinged just then. McBride removed the casserole with one hand and ripped off a length of paper towel to use as a napkin with the other. I slid off the stool and took silverware from a drawer. “Beer?” I asked, knowing his fondness for the beverage.
He nodded. “A woman after my own heart.”
“Okay, now eat before it gets cold.” Realizing how that must have sounded, I shoved an impatient hand through my hair. I placed a bottle of Yuengling on the table and sat opposite him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come across as your mother.”
“For the record, my mother wasn’t the Betty Crocker variety. If it didn’t come out of a can or a box, it wasn’t considered food.” He dug into his meal as though he hadn’t eaten all day. “So if it wasn’t a mercy run for a starving lawman, why are you here?”
“A couple things.” I let out a sigh, then proceeded to tell him about my visit to the law office and the ensuing conversation with Matt Wainwright. “I think we can cross Matt and Mary Beth off our persons of interest list,” I concluded.
Finished with his meal, he pushed his empty plate to the side. “You said ‘a couple things.’ What else is on your mind?”
Shifting my weight, I dug the flash drive out of the pocket of my jeans. “This fell out of a pair of designer shoes that I borrowed from Shirley.”
“You borrowed a dead woman’s shoes?” he asked with a bemused smile.
