Fatal Fiction (A Book Barn Mystery)

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Fatal Fiction (A Book Barn Mystery) Page 15

by Kym Roberts


  The old sheriff wasn’t too happy with me when he pulled me over. I thought he was going to lock me up and throw away the key. But Mr. Draper had come by and talked him out of writing me a ticket. Said I was a good girl and we needed to teach our young’uns to respect the law, not fear it. The sheriff had muttered under his breath about them being one and the same and then parked the truck and let Mr. Draper take me to school.

  My dad had picked me up that afternoon in that same truck. Told me I’d have to make him some oatmeal butterscotch cookies if I wanted to stay on his good side. It had cost me two batches of cookies and one pumpkin pie for Mr. Draper. Well worth staying out of that stinky jail.

  That time.

  Scarlet brought me out of my reminiscence. “Why would they treat you badly?” She looked up, her face a mark of perfection in porcelain white.

  “Um, hello? Do you remember how they were treating me before I left?” I asked.

  She looked puzzled for a moment. Then finally accepted that she wouldn’t remember whatever I remembered and shook her head. “Nope. I remember you being the center of the world in Hazel Rock.”

  “That was before Cade broke up with me.”

  “Because you cheated on him with that boy from Denver.”

  My mouth dropped. “That boy from Denver was my cousin.” I may have fumed a little bit at that point.

  “Your cousin?” She said it as if I couldn’t possibly have any relatives outside Texas.

  “My Aunt Violet’s son? Jamal is my cousin.” Those bad feelings were starting to come back.

  She blinked. “Huh. I never heard that one.”

  I tried to keep my voice down. “Of course you didn’t. At that point I could have shouted it from the water tower and nobody would have heard me.”

  Scarlet looked down at her phone and began texting again. “I seem to remember you shouting quite a bit from the water tower and everyone heard you.”

  I sighed. “That was different.”

  Never looking up from her phone, she asked. “How so?”

  “I was trying to get everyone to rally around the team.” Hadn’t I told this story a zillion times?

  She looked up long enough to blow air out of her nose at the absurdity of my youth and then returned her gaze to the text she was receiving. “By yelling from the water tower in the middle of the night?”

  “It seemed as good a time and place as any,” I muttered, trying to defend myself with no real conviction behind it. She was, of course, right. I’d gone up on the water tower on a dare from Joe. That infectious smile of his could also be used to goad people into doing stupid stuff.

  That night I’d learned how stinky the jail was. The sheriff had been woken up out of bed and wasn’t about to respond to a call about obnoxious teens without someone paying the price. His determination to lock up the troublemakers started and ended with me.

  Out of thirteen kids, I was the one who went to jail. Most of our friends had scattered like the wind, but because I was on the walkway at the top of the tower admiring the stars on the back side, I hadn’t seen the sheriff coming. He’d used his siren to get my attention, and when I saw him, I seriously thought about pretending to faint. Except everyone knew I was an adrenaline junkie. The chances of me fainting were slim to none.

  As I climbed down with his spotlight on me the entire time, I noticed one person had stayed behind. Cade. He’d tried to talk me out of climbing the ladder in the first place. I wouldn’t listen. I was my own woman. Yet he’d stood by, despite being out after curfew, and tried to reason with the sheriff.

  When the lawman wouldn’t listen to the illogical arguments of a boy in love, Cade had had the decency to argue with him and kept him from putting handcuffs on me. Then my boyfriend went to wake up my dad, who came to get me before the sheriff could lock me up in his two-cell jailhouse.

  And that marked the beginning of my downfall. The mayor didn’t want his son hanging around a common criminal.

  “Did you know Marlene was married?” Scarlet asked.

  Holy schnikies, the look on her face made me squirm. “Yeah, to Mr. Duncan, our math teacher. Please tell me they were divorced.”

  “Yeah, they’ve been divorced for years. But apparently Mr. Duncan has been getting drunk at the Tool Shed every night since Marlene died. Last night he ended up in jail.”

  I thought about what Mike had said about the bar being damaged the previous night and wondered if Marlene’s ex was responsible for the damage. “I can’t see Mr. Duncan getting that drunk, can you?”

  She shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. Including who posted his bond.”

  I knew I was supposed to ask who did it, but I also knew I wouldn’t like the answer. I asked anyway. “Who posted his bond?”

  “My sister Joellen just texted me. She overheard Mrs. Calloway talking to Mary while she was getting her hair done. Mrs. Calloway said your daddy posted his bond.”

  I scoffed. “Why would my dad post Scott Duncan’s bond? My dad was engaged to his ex, and if you haven’t noticed, the sheriff is digging pretty deep to locate him. Besides, my daddy would have come to see me if he’d stepped foot in town.”

  Wouldn’t he? Scarlet looked at me. Waiting for me to accept my dad’s neglect.

  “How was he able to post Mr. Duncan’s bond without Mateo pulling him in for questioning?” I asked.

  “Apparently he went to a bondsman in Oak Grove and paid the fees. Mateo wasn’t real happy about missing him.”

  I had no doubt the sheriff was fuming. Even if he had a tendency not to show it, Mateo didn’t like to be bested. By anyone.

  The second tidbit finally sunk in. “What Mrs. Calloway?” If the man had a wife, I might hit him with a brick cream pie for kissing me the way he had.

  “Cade’s momma,” Scarlet replied.

  I’m pretty sure she saw the momentary guilt that crossed my face as I thought about making out with a potentially married man. It was bad enough that he was seeing Reba Sue . . . okay, I wasn’t going to go down that road again.

  Changing the subject, I leaned forward so no one else could hear. “Did you hear about the bar getting damaged last night?”

  “I heard Cade and Coach talking about it taking two deputies to take Mr. Duncan to jail.”

  “No way!” My voice got a little loud and Cade looked in my direction. Our eyes met across the room and a shiver ran up my spine. He still affected me more than I cared to admit. Drat the man.

  Scarlet turned to see who had drawn my attention, a knowing smile crossing her face.

  I ignored it. “Did he get into a fight or did he just go off and tear the place apart?”

  “Someone apparently started disparaging Marlene’s character, saying she didn’t have a loyal bone in her body.” Scarlet took a sip of her coffee.

  “Wow, that’s kind of harsh to say about a woman who was murdered.” I eyed her coffee, wishing I had one with cream. “Who said it?”

  Scarlet nodded her head toward Mike Thompson.

  I was practically lying across the table as I whispered, “You’re kidding me.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’m as serious as your daddy was when he said The Book Barn would never be the same without his princess.”

  My eyes fluttered as I processed what she’d said and slowly sat back in the booth. “He said that?”

  She smiled sadly. “That was right before his armadillo showed up.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Not exactly the cutest creature I’d like named after me.”

  “Maybe it has something to do with her coloring,” Scarlet suggested.

  “Or your tough-as-nails attitude.” My hair moved as he spoke close to my ear. Somehow that man had snuck up behind me and leaned over my shoulder to send sparks through my body.

  Scarlet grinned.

  “Abuse tends to tear or toughen your skin,” I said with as much conviction as I could without sounding breathless. Judging from the increase in the size of Scarlet’s grin
, I’d failed.

  “I just came over to let you know that my offer stands to buy The Barn.”

  “Why? Are you planning to call in the debt I owe you for painting it? ’Cause if you are, there are still two sides that need to be painted.” I was irritated. Not with him but with my reaction to his proximity. Cade and Scarlet, however, didn’t know that.

  Scarlet’s smile turned upside down, and without even looking at him, I could feel Cade stiffen. He cleared his throat and straightened before answering. “After seeing how good The Barn looks this morning, I can see even more value in the investment . . . and I thought you’d like to return to Denver.”

  “I’m not going anywhere ’til my daddy’s name is cleared,” I said with more conviction than I thought I had.

  “Sometimes these cases take a while. How long are you going to wait?”

  If I were paranoid, I’d think he might be trying to run me out of town. “Then The Barn will stay open until it’s done.” Period.

  Cade wouldn’t let it go. He pushed. “What about your job?”

  I shrugged as if it meant nothing. “It’s a job.” I couldn’t believe I said it, yet I suddenly realized it was true. The job I had viewed as my career was just a job. I loved my students, even the ones with potty mouths, but in the bookstore I felt alive. After working ’til the late hours of the night, I had been wired, ready to keep going if I hadn’t noticed the looks on the others’ faces. While I’d been energized, they’d looked exhausted, so I’d called it quits. After they all left, I’d stayed a little longer just savoring what was mine. Because despite all the bad things that had happened there, The Book Barn Princess was a part of me.

  I could sit down with a book and disappear to another land, another world, or even another time. I could explore the Amazon, fall in love with a Civil War soldier, or fight next to the Jedi and save the galaxy. I could learn to carve. Learn to cook. Or even learn to cuss in another language. Not that I would—but I could.

  And certainly all of that was available to me on the internet, but I’d come to realize just how much I missed being physically immersed in it all. Being able to share that potential with others was a dream come true—literally. And that scared the bejesus out of me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After breakfast I left the diner and headed for my daddy’s house. I had a little time to snoop before I had to be back at The Barn and now seemed as good a time as any. I really wanted to see where he’d lived with Marlene.

  And if I happened to find him at home, more the better.

  It didn’t take long to find the address. It was an old Victorian two blocks over behind the beauty salon on Sunset Drive. The house was green with white gingerbread surrounding the porch and the gables. The windows were dark but still welcoming, with lace curtains adding to the home’s charm. I could see why my daddy had moved, even though it hurt just a little bit.

  I walked up onto the porch and saw a pot of pansies identical to the one outside the apartment sitting next to the front door. Instantaneously my old ways perked up my heart rate. I looked around the neighborhood, but the streets were quiet and barren, all except for the steady, bored bark of a dog behind the fence of his yard. I bent over and tilted the pot and there it was: a key.

  I grabbed the small silver key and looked around one more time before sticking it into the lock and turning the handle. A click and a squeak later, I was standing in the middle of the entry, wondering how stupid I could get.

  “Hello?” I called.

  My greeting met silence.

  “Hel-looo,” I called out again, louder this time. “Daddy, it’s me—Princess.”

  Like he wouldn’t know who me was.

  I crept into the living room on my tiptoes. There was no doubt about this. I was breaking and entering . . . into my father’s house.

  Surely I could talk my way out of that?

  The living room didn’t have a lot of furniture: an antique couch and matching chairs with an old mahogany desk that had papers scattered across the top.

  I flipped through them, looking for anything that might stand out. An electric bill in my dad’s name, a credit card bill in Marlene’s. One glance at it told me the woman liked her shopping, but nothing looked out of place. There were a few junk mail items and something from the city about the upcoming mayoral race next year.

  I looked around the room and found a few photos of Marlene with my daddy. It was strange to see. He looked older but happy. I didn’t look too long because I was scared I’d see the same kind of happiness in his eyes he’d had with me and my mom, and I wasn’t ready for that. Especially knowing he’d lost his second love too soon as well.

  I walked into the kitchen, which was decorated more in a seventies décor than one that fit the house, but by the construction plans sitting on the counter it looked as if they were ready to remodel. I made my way to the second floor and found two vacant bedrooms. The third had a queen bed that didn’t look like anyone had slept in it. I moved to the closet and found my dad’s clothes along with Marlene’s when something tugged at my chest.

  It felt a lot like guilt. Guilt for snooping. For spying. For interfering in his life when I had no right to do so. Yet I continued to the dresser. Because despite my guilt, I was determined to push forward and find something in Marlene’s stuff that would lead me to her killer. It was the only way to clear my daddy’s name.

  I went through Marlene’s closet, her drawers, her nightstand, but found nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

  Defeated, I turned and looked around the room before heading downstairs. I peeked out the front door before exiting and locking the door. I hesitated, scared to put the key to my daddy’s house in such an obvious place, but then decided he might need to get it and put the key back under the pot.

  It was nine-fifteen when I made it back to The Book Barn Princess and stood looking around the store all alone. Technically, I wasn’t alone alone. I had Princess staring up at me with her beady little eyes wondering what I was going to do next.

  This was insane.

  My cell phone rang and I pulled it out of my pocket. My cousin Jamal’s name flashed on the screen. He was exactly who I needed.

  “Jamal!” I answered on the third ring.

  “Char, are you coming home anytime soon or have we lost you to Texas?”

  I laughed and looked down at Princess. “I was going to call you tonight after the grand reopening of The Barn.”

  “The what?”

  “I’m reopening The Book Barn Princess for business in thirty minutes.” I smiled and let those words sink in. They felt crazy but good.

  “Get out! Princess? You put Princess on the end?”

  I laughed again. God, it felt so good to laugh. “Nooo, Daddy had already put Princess on the end of the name and painted The Barn pink.”

  “Get. Out!” He was laughing, and I knew someday my Aunt Violet and Jamal would come through the front door and love the new store. I loved the new store.

  “Pink.” I grinned. “Big and pink.”

  “You’re not coming back, are you?” he accused.

  For a moment I hesitated, and then I laughed again. Only this time it wasn’t filled with joy but rather more like I’m-so-stupid-crashing-down-to-reality-I-think-I-might-cry laughing.

  I knew from experience that The Book Barn barely made it in the black each month. It’d always been enough to put food on the table and keep the lights on, but that was it. I suspected Dad had given The Barn an expensive facelift hoping it would do the trick, and when it didn’t, he’d put it up for sale. And here I sat thinking the exact same thing—my remodel would do the trick. Not that the changes in the store this time around had been expensive per se, but it had been labor intensive and I owed a lot of people favors—including an entire football team.

  “What if I fail? What if I don’t raise enough money to get home, let alone set up a legal fund for my dad?”

  “Wait, what? A legal fund? You didn’t say anything about
a legal fund. Is your dad in trouble?”

  I cringed and realized my mistake. I was relying on the entire town of Hazel Rock. I couldn’t possibly involve my cousin or my aunt in this mess. I laughed again, but I know it sounded fake.

  “Don’t be silly. Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll call later on in the week, okay?”

  “Sure, Char. But—”

  I didn’t give him a chance to continue. “Bye, Jamal.” I clicked my phone off.

  Princess rubbed against me like a loving cat. Being rubbed by a shell, however, wasn’t exactly the same thing. It hurt and kind of creeped me out. I stepped back and she gazed at me like I’d just delivered the worst insult possible.

  I couldn’t even take care of an armadillo. What made me think I could take care of the store?

  “Sorry. I gotta get used to you rubbing against me.”

  Princess sneezed and waddled away.

  I shook off the feelings of doom and started brewing some tea, then put out a dozen cookies I’d purchased at the bakery. My emergency fund was precariously low, so I was hoping I’d earn enough money to put food in my mouth this week. I needed to quit eating at the diner and start going to the grocery store. Problem was, I didn’t have a car and I’d have to ask someone for yet another favor. How many favors would my new old friends allot a charity case who shouldn’t be asking for funds from anyone?

  I went out and watered the memorial to Marlene that I’d decided to maintain and keep as neat as possible until Friday. Actually, Thursday night after dark was sounding better and better. If I didn’t take care of it, I’d have a bunch of pots with dead flowers blocking the entrance by the end of the day. That was the last thing the store needed. Especially when the memorial wasn’t just growing by the day, it was growing by the hour. More plants, balloons, and signs that said, “We love you, Marlene” and “RIP Marlene” had been added since I last looked. There was one new sign that caught my eye and made me wonder.

  It simply said: “Forgiveness.”

  It was posted right next to a five-foot column cactus. Who puts a cactus at a memorial?

 

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