Becky came to mind, but she forced the possibility out of her head. It was too outlandish, and she had already decided it couldn’t have been Becky she saw outside of Daisy’s Luncheonette that night.
Dean knows something, she thought, as she pulled out of her parking spot and headed into town. And if Dean doesn’t want to tell me, then maybe Jessica will.
Jessica Wentworth had a long history of being a mayor’s wife. Formerly married to Dudley Stuart, the prior mayor of Rock Ridge two terms ago, Jessica had lived quite a cozy life—except for the tragedy of her son, Bradley, having gone missing when he’d been only four. When Dudley had been murdered, Jessica reached an all-time low, not only mourning his death, but also because she had been accused of committing the crime. She had bounced back, however, when she became involved with Dean. And two years ago, she reached an all-time high—thanks to Kate, who had reunited her with her long, lost son.
Because of it, Kate felt confident that if Jessica knew something, she would let Kate in on the secret, so Kate put off price-checking furniture rentals for Meredith’s house to stop in on her.
As she pulled to the curb in front of the house, she felt her cell vibrate in her pocket and wasn’t at all surprised to find a text message from Justina asking her if she was planning on stopping by with her budget.
Give me until six o’clock? She responded then hopped out onto the street.
The heat was stifling, as she made her way up the walk. She knocked on the door then realized the house was too big for anyone inside to hear her, so she rang the doorbell. She could hear it chime faintly through the door, and a few moments later, Bradley opened it.
“Kate,” he said, surprised to see her on the welcome mat. “Is my mom expecting you?”
“No, I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure,” he said, widening the door for her to come inside.
As soon as she did, the crisp AC hit her, and she realized she must have been sweating terribly. Following Bradley—whose name still popped up in her head as ‘Toby’ because that’s who he had introduced himself as when she had met him years back surrounding the Anarchist Freedom Networks infiltration into Rock Ridge—she asked, “How are you enjoying college?”
“I’m enjoying the summer break,” he laughed. “But it’s going well. I’ve been helping out in the mayor’s office when I can, too. Jared’s hilarious.”
“Is that right?”
“Hey, Mom,” he said, hovering in the doorway of her studio.
Jessica had turned her flare for designing t-shirts, which had only been a hobby, into a full-fledged business a year ago and had since branched out into all styles of clothing. Her studio was a lively mess of cloth and scraps and mannequins in various stages of undress.
“Oh, Kate,” Jessica exclaimed, straightening up from her sewing machine. “What brings you here—besides a cup of coffee?”
She smiled and realized the mere mention of coffee had caused her mind to go momentarily blank.
Jessica was already approaching a table in the corner where a coffee maker sat with a fresh pot of dark roast. She poured a mug and offered it to Kate. And when she reached for it, she realized Bradley had silently excused himself. They were alone.
“Thanks,” she said between sips. “I needed this.”
“How is Jason doing?” she asked, concerned. “How are you doing for that matter?”
“We’re holding up.”
“I know the feeling,” she said. “But if I got Bradley back after more than a decade, there’s always hope Becky will be found.”
“We’re certainly trying to stay hopeful,” she said in agreement.
“I’m so glad Jason accepted the position at Wentworth Construction,” she went on. “I know it must have been hard for him. There’s a lot of guilt surrounding the idea of moving on after a loved one has vanished. But the fact of the matter is that you can keep your life going while remaining active in the search, you know?”
“No, I know,” she said. “He was getting so depressed, and now that he’s been hired, it’s like the life came back into his eyes.”
“That’s so good to hear,” she said, sitting on the edge of her table.
“So I’ll get down to it,” she began. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but I’m sure you heard about one of Dean’s construction workers getting murdered?”
“Of course. Clifford Green. Shocking.”
“I have to ask you...” she trailed off. She dreaded putting Jessica in a position to perhaps betray her husband.
“It’s okay, Kate. You can ask. If it wasn’t for you, I might be in prison right now, falsely convicted for Dudley’s murder.”
She was glad she didn’t have to point that out.
“I heard Dean broke up a fight between Clifford and a woman at the construction site,” she said. “And then the woman slashed Clifford’s tires. I haven’t heard any other account of violence against Clifford, and I know he did time, but I’d really like to know who the woman was. Dean wouldn’t tell me.”
Jessica’s expression didn’t give much away, but Kate couldn’t tell if that was because she was preparing herself to protect her husband, or if she simply didn’t know anything about it.
“Did Dean mention anything to you?”
“Kate,” she said, taking a moment to formulate her response before stating it. “If this was about anything else, you know I’d tell you everything I could. But...”
“Who was this woman, Jessica?”
“I’m sorry.”
“What if this is the person who killed Clifford? Do you really want her roaming free around Rock Ridge?”
“Well, I can safely tell you that an argument—”
“And slashing his tires.”
“Right, well, it isn’t proof she killed him.”
“Why are you two protecting her?”
“If you really must know, she made a sizable donation to the mayor’s office. It was historic. It’s going to cover Dean’s campaign for re-election, and it covered his investment in the amusement park.”
“He’s an investor?”
“He had to entice Six Flag’s to want to build in Rock Ridge. Look, I hate politics and it’s all very confusing. I’m sorry. All I can say is that there’s no way she had anything to do with Clifford’s murder.”
“Why were they arguing? How does a woman in a position to donate thousands—”
Jessica interrupted only to correct her. “Millions.”
“Millions? Well, how does someone like that know a criminal? Why were they arguing?”
“I really don’t know.”
Kate could tell by the look in Jessica’s eye that she was telling the truth in that regard, but it frustrated her to no end that Jessica was holding out on her.
“Please,” she said. “I won’t tell Dean you told me.”
Jessica slid off the table and squared her shoulders at Kate confrontationally.
“If my husband asks me to keep something confident, I keep it confident,” she stated, but her tone implied Kate didn’t hold the same values in her own marriage—and the insinuation nearly pitched her into a rage.
But she drew in a deep breath, calming herself, and then said, “Thanks for your time. I’ll see myself out.”
It was a very long walk to the front door, and when Bradley called out her name, wishing her a good day, she barely flicked her eyes in his direction.
Outside, the air was sweltering. She made slow work of shutting the door behind her, not quite willing to part with the crisp AC wafting out of the house.
The moment she did, her cell phone buzzed in her overalls.
It was Scott.
“Hey,” she said in an exhausted tone.
“I have some good news,” he said.
“I could use some good news.”
“It looks like the Clifford Green case is going to close. We made our arrest.”
“Who?”
“Daisy if you can believe
it.”
Daisy?
She couldn’t.
Chapter Six
So after Daisy had pointed her finger at Carly, Daisy ended up getting arrested? Had Carly pointed her finger right back at her in retaliation? Kate knew Scott was a far better police chief than someone who would book a person on mere rumor, but it did beg the question, why had Daisy been arrested? Grady, the cook had mentioned it had been out of character for Daisy to show up at the diner before the employees that morning. Had she killed Clifford in the parking lot? Scott certainly thought so, yet he hadn’t confided in her that his team found the murder weapon. Wouldn’t he have mentioned it?
The day was getting away from her. There was less than an hour’s worth of sunlight, but luckily her go-to furniture store for renting items whenever she needed to stage a house would be open until nine o’clock.
She walked through the entrance of Corey’s Cabinets, a mom-and-pop store she favored over IKEA, which was on the outskirts of town. Though Corey, the owner, had needed much buttering up and prodding, she had managed to convince him a year back to allow her to rent furniture, even though his store wasn’t known for doing such a thing. To convince him that she would return all items undamaged, she had taken out an insurance policy. It had done the trick—though he wasn’t exactly doing her any favors with the prices.
She found Corey smoothing down a fresh mattress cover over one of the newer models. He was a portly man with a thin tuft of white hair sprouting from the top of his head and his spectacles always seemed to be slipping down his nose.
“Don’t mind me,” she said, rounding through the displays and heading towards the living room furniture. “Just pricing out a few items.”
“Evening, Kate,” he said when he had a moment to glance up. “Let me know if you need anything.”
What she needed was pictures of Meredith’s living room unfurnished. It was challenging to visualize the room. She hadn’t been back since the movers had cleared the house, and she couldn’t quite picture it empty.
She took her time perusing the floor display items, making notes as she went whenever she saw a piece of furniture she thought would work in Meredith’s house. The trick revolved around trying to match the pieces to the art deco style, which wasn’t easy. Corey’s Cabinets tended to be stocked with antique items, which would clash badly, but she managed to pick out a few choice items, noting their prices and tallying a total.
“Will you be around tomorrow?” she asked, approaching the counter where Corey was clicking through his computer.
“Shorter hours,” he said, glancing up at her. “But yes, I’ll be here until four.”
“I may swing by with a U-Haul to get a few things, if this budget is approved.”
“Another house for Justina to sell?”
“That’s the idea,” she said. “But it’s Meredith Joste’s art deco. It didn’t sell two years ago.”
“Well, you never know. I’ve seen a lot of new faces around Rock Ridge.”
So had Kate, but she doubted anyone recently released from prison would have the means to purchase a home as expensive as Meredith’s.
“Besides,” he went on, “Meredith has time.”
Kate cocked her head at that. “I’m not sure she does. She’s moving to Florida. She’s already emptied the house. I’m sure the last thing she wants is to keep up a mortgage while she’s paying rent on a condo down there.”
“I’m sure she can afford it,” he said offhandedly.
“What makes you sure?”
“Meredith’s quite well off. You didn’t realize that?”
She hadn’t.
“She downplays her wealth, but make no mistake, she should have no problem managing two homes.”
Then why is she moving? Kate wondered. She had been under the impression that Meredith needed to sell her home because it had gotten unaffordable. If she could afford it and then some, what was her rush to leave Rock Ridge and get down to Florida?
She handed him another list she had made, saying, “These are the items I’ll pick up tomorrow if Justina okays them.”
Corey read through her list, but before he could reach the bottom he said, “I only have one of these coffee tables, and I’m afraid I can’t spare it.”
“Shoot. Can you recommend something similar? A living room without a coffee table will look strange.”
“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, as he emerged from the counter and began walking slowly through the store.
“Glass top,” she said. “Brass legs.”
“I know what the coffee table looks like,” he said impatiently.
She was impressed. She had only jotted down the SKU numbers.
“What about this one?”
Corey was pulling another glass coffee table out from beneath a larger table. She hadn’t even seen it.
“It’s the only one I’ve got, but it hasn’t sold in years, so I can live without it for a few months if need be.”
“This looks great,” she said.
“And I’ll rent it to you for half of what the other would’ve cost you.”
“Sounds like a deal.”
“In fact, if you feel like being a powerhouse,” he went on, “you could swing by tonight to get these. Truth be told, it’s an imposition having you on the weekends. The hours are short enough as it is, and when I’m off the floor helping you, I’m not on the floor selling.”
“Let me see what I can do,” she said. “I haven’t rented the truck yet.”
“There’s hardly anything on here,” he countered. “Use your pickup.”
“Corey, I’ve listed a queen-sized bed.”
“So you’ll take a few trips.”
Yeah, and I’ll never see my husband, she thought. Not with Corey suggesting she work into the wee hours, driving back and forth, delivering furniture to save him from one hour of inconvenience.
But she agreed. “I’ll see what I can do. How late will you be here?”
“We close at nine, but I’ll be doing the bookkeeping until eleven or midnight. Just give me a holler.”
On her way out, she dialed Carnegie Real Estate and one of Justina’s new assistants picked up.
“Hey, it’s Kate Flaherty.”
“You mean York?”
“No, I mean Flaherty, but yes, I’m married to Scott York.”
“Like I said.”
Kate tried not to sigh loudly. “Can I swing by to drop off my budget and get that credit card?”
“If you come right now. We’re locking up.”
“I’ll be there in three minutes.”
And she was.
Justina’s assistant, Veronica, who always seemed to be dressed in pink for reasons Kate feared to imagine, was waiting and tapping her heel against the floor just inside the anteroom.
“You were longer than three minutes. It’s Friday night, you know.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” she said, handing the snooty young woman the list she had made.
“In the future,” she said, “you should submit this on a Purchase Order, with the list from Corey’s stapled in back of it.”
Kate didn’t point out that she meant Rental Order and not Purchase Order. She simply said that she would.
“It looks good,” she said. “Here’s the card.”
As soon as she had it in her hand, she saw the name on the credit card: Kate York.
“This says York.”
“That’s your name.”
“It’s not my name. It’s not the name on my driver’s license, or my mortgage, or any of my bank accounts or credit card statements, and if they ask me to show ID at the counter, I’m going to have a problem.”
The young woman pitched her eyebrow up her forehead with immense skepticism. “Why would Corey ID you?”
To end this irritating conversation, she stated, “Thank you,” in a sharp tone then yanked the door open and made her way out to her truck.
It was going to be a long night.
Doubling
back to Corey’s Cabinets, she gave Corey a quick call, knowing she shouldn’t drive and talk on her cell phone, but the conversation was brief. She pulled around the back of the furniture store, and luckily, Corey must have wanted a good, long distraction from bookkeeping, because he was ready for her, as she rolled to a stop.
“I brought all the smaller items out, as you can see. But we’ll have to do the bed together.”
“Sure thing,” she said. “Should we get it now so I don’t have to bother you on my next trip?”
He shrugged, indicating it was a decent idea. They walked through the storage area in the back of the store and rounded through the bedroom displays.
Though she had full coverage insurance, Corey was only comfortable renting her the floor items, which had been chinked and chipped over the months from prospective customers.
When he reached the bed frame she had noted on her list, he supplied her with a screwdriver and they began disassembling the bed. Soon they were piling the pieces into the back of her truck. Next came the mattress, which they wrestled and maneuvered through the furniture store. When they set it in her truck bed, Kate needed a minute to catch her breath.
“I bet we could lay the smaller items on top.”
She widened her eyes as though he were insane.
“I have bungee cords. Trust me, I don’t want the furniture flying off into the street any more than you do.”
One trip would certainly be better than two or three, so she agreed, helping him carry piece after piece and loading up the truck bed. By the time they were done, the furniture was teetering precariously on top of the mattress, but Corey wasted no time anchoring it down with several cords.
She thanked him, as she hopped up behind the wheel.
“Take care,” he said, as she drove off.
Night was falling fast, and as she pulled into Meredith Joste’s driveway, she wrapped her head around the fastest way to unload her truck. If Meredith had truly moved out all of her belongings, then Kate should be able to simply put the furniture in the garage and arrange it another day.
Mrs. Fix It Mysteries, Season 2 (5 Cozy Mystery Books Collection) Page 15
