by Ingrid Thoft
Gabby meandered through the makeup and perfume department, spraying samples on her wrist and testing out eye shadow colors before riding the escalator up two floors to the intimate apparel department. She watched Gabby lay a few items over her arm while perusing the racks. Fina busied herself with a display of shapewear, which seemed a misnomer since its whole point was to “correct” one’s natural shape.
Gabby was holding up a black lace bodysuit for inspection—the embellished lace barely covering the naughty bits—when Fina wandered over.
“Hey, Gabby.”
She started. “Are you following me?”
Fina made a face as if the question were ludicrous. “To the lingerie department? Actually, I’m in the market for some new bras, although,” she said, peering at the bodysuit, “that’s another option.”
Gabby hung it back on the rack with excessive force. “If you had a husband, I’m sure he’d be happy to buy it for you.”
“Someday,” Fina said wistfully. She took a step closer to Gabby and lowered her voice. “But seriously, is that for Pastor Greg or your boyfriend?”
Color flooded Gabby’s cheeks, and she jammed the remaining hangers onto a rack and started to leave.
“I guess that’s my answer,” Fina said.
Her smug tone was enough to halt Gabby’s progress.
Gabby took a few steps and closed the distance between them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve seen photos of you with Casey. He barely looks old enough to drink, but maybe that’s part of the appeal.”
Her cheeks were changing from flushed to ashen. “What photos?”
“The ones that show you having sex in the backseat of his car, which looked pretty uncomfortable.”
There was a small seating area a few yards away to which Gabby retreated. She sat down on the upholstered settee and seemed to be gathering her thoughts.
“What do you want?” she asked after a moment.
“Depends on what you have to give,” Fina said, joining her on the couch.
“You’re blackmailing me?”
“No, I don’t want your money.”
“Then why are you here? So you can threaten me?”
“I’m the least of your problems. You don’t think Greg or another member is going to figure this out? Or that Casey won’t brag about it?”
“He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Right, because twentysomething guys are known for their discretion.”
“If you don’t want money, why are you here?”
“Does Lucas know about the affair? Is that why you two are at odds?”
Confusion darted across Gabby’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “You’re so full of shit.”
Fina’s eyes widened. “Yikes. That’s not very Christian.”
“You know why Lucas is annoyed? He’s worried I’ll tell everyone that he borrowed antifreeze from the shop at the church.”
Fina leaned her head against the back of the couch. She knew she should be glad for a potential lead, but instead she just felt drained. For all she knew, Gabby was orchestrating an elaborate scheme of misdirection.
“Who told you that antifreeze was part of the case?” Fina asked.
“The cops.”
“And did you share your suspicions about Lucas with them?”
“No.”
“So why are you telling me?”
“Because I’d like you to keep your mouth shut about other things.”
“How do I know you’re not making it up?”
“I’m not. Ask Greg. Lucas borrowed the antifreeze a couple of months ago and brought it back right after Nadine died.”
“Why would Lucas want to kill Nadine?”
“You’d have to ask him, but those two never got along.”
“And how do you know that Lucas borrowed the antifreeze?”
“I was there when he told Greg he was going to borrow it, and then I saw him bring it back.”
Fina shook her head. “You should have told the police.”
Gabby scoffed. “I’m not going to help in their witch hunt. You and the cops want to smear us at any cost.”
“Not true, but if you are doing something illegal, then you better believe that we want to nail your ass to the wall. It’s just a matter of who gets there first, me or the cops.”
Gabby stood and ran a hand through her glossy blond hair. “Tattling on me will backfire.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because we forgive in the church, but we don’t like it when outsiders get in our business.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fina said. “Hey, do you happen to know a guy named Jimmy Smith? Young, white guy with a criminal record.” She thought it was unlikely, but there was no harm in asking.
“No,” Gabby said, looking genuinely puzzled.
Fina watched as she threaded her way through the racks and disappeared down the escalator.
She always knew it was time to wrap up a case when she felt the urge to strangle the suspects.
• • •
Back home, Fina took a shower and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. Even though it was the end of the day, she put on a little makeup and ran a brush through her hair. Cristian was going to stop by and she didn’t want to look like a sad sack in sweats recovering from a beatdown. She briefly considered tidying up the living room, but there was only so much gilding of the lily she was willing to do.
Before settling into the couch, Fina put in a call to Emma Kirwan, her computer expert. Emma was a hacker, but the most uptight, conservative lawbreaker that Fina had ever encountered. If you met Emma on the street, you’d assume she was a Girl Scout leader on the way to story time at the library.
“Emma, it’s Fina.”
“I know. That whole caller ID thing.”
Fina could sense her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. “I have a job for you.”
“Yes?”
“Do you have much experience with facial recognition software?”
“Yes. What’s the job?”
Fina spelled out the assignment and braced herself for the disclosure of Emma’s exorbitant fee. It always took her breath away, but Emma was the embodiment of the free market she so loved; what she supplied, Fina demanded.
Her work done for the moment, Fina curled on her side to watch a show counting down the world’s best cakes. Fina rooted around for her phone when it rang.
“Yes?”
“It’s Dante. So I didn’t find your Jimmy Smith, but I found a guy who knows him.”
“Okay. That’s something, I guess.”
“Hey! Have you done any better?”
“No, I haven’t,” she admitted. “Who’s the guy?”
“His name is Travis Whalen.”
“Okay. Where do I find him?”
“He’s going to call you and set up a meeting.”
“Dante,” Fina groaned, making no attempt to hide her frustration. “You can’t give me his address or his number?”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
Fina sighed. “Why would he call me? What’s in it for him?”
“He’s doing me a favor, so now you owe me two favors.”
“Terrific.”
“When he gets in touch, don’t keep him waiting.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Yeah, right. Looking forward to cashing in those chits,” he said, ending the call.
Another hour passed, and the world’s best cakes rolled into the world’s best pies. When Cristian finally showed up, Fina led him to the couch and got him a cold beer. She sat down next to him.
She looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry. I should have tol
d you about the fight. I’m just trying to figure this out as we go.”
He took a swig and put the can down on the coffee table. “Me, too.”
“Since work is such a hot-button issue, how about we not talk about it, just for tonight?”
“That won’t be easy.”
“Pretend I’m not a PI,” Fina said.
Cristian leaned back and grinned. “What else would you be?”
“Whatever you want me to be,” she said, lifting one leg over his lap so she was straddling him.
“I can’t imagine you doing any other job.”
She grasped his shoulders and started kneading. “How about a flight attendant?”
He burst out laughing. “You would be the worst flight attendant ever!”
“Why do you say that?” Fina ran her fingers through his thick hair.
“You would make everyone get their own drinks, and you’d yell at people who wouldn’t keep their seat belts fastened while seated.”
“Well, really, how hard is it to keep your seat belt fastened? How is that worse than smashing your head against the cabin ceiling?”
“You’re proving my point. How about we steer clear of the service industries?”
“Okay, then: pilot. Fighter pilot.”
“That’s definitely easier to imagine.” He leaned forward, and his lips brushed her neck. “You’d look hot in one of those flight suits.”
“I would look hot in one of those,” she agreed, grasping his head between her hands and kissing him on the lips. Cristian put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer.
Fina felt her muscles relax and allowed herself to sink into him. In a sudden burst, he pushed them both off the couch, and Fina gripped him around the waist with her legs. He carried her into the bedroom, where he dropped her onto the bed and started to peel off his shirt.
Fina pulled off her clothes and lay back on the bed. “Fasten your seat belt, Detective.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
“You actually have some food in your refrigerator,” Cristian commented the next morning. He was standing at the foot of the bed, shirtless.
Fina grinned. “Maybe someone broke in.” She burrowed under the covers and inhaled his scent on her pillow. “Why are you up so early?”
“That whole work thing.”
“Ah, that.” She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Reality comes crashing back.”
“It has a tendency to do that,” he said.
“Did you know that Gabby Gatchell is having an affair?”
Cristian pulled on his shirt and sat down next to her. “We suspected as much.”
“With Casey Andros, a young congregant. She really doesn’t want Greg to find out about it.”
“No surprise there.”
“So much so that she told me Lucas Chellew ‘borrowed’ the church’s antifreeze.”
Cristian raised an eyebrow.
“I assume you didn’t find any antifreeze at his house?” Fina asked, pushing herself to a sitting position.
“Nope.”
“But you did find some at Covenant Rising?”
He nodded.
“Gabby would like me, and therefore, you, to believe that Lucas poisoned Nadine.”
“Why?”
“I asked her the same thing. She just cited their bad blood.”
“That’s a lot of work just for bad blood.”
“But remember, Lucas got her kicked off the leadership committee because she was nosing around too much.”
“And getting her kicked off wasn’t enough?”
“Maybe.”
He rubbed her bare shoulder. “You know, it’s not too late for you to join the force.”
“Don’t let last night cloud your judgment, Detective.”
“I’m serious. Then we could work for the same side.”
“We already do work for the same side. Or near the same side,” she said, taking in his mien of doubt.
Cristian kissed her. “Talk to you later. Be careful.”
“You, too.”
Fina threw on some sweats when she heard the door close behind him and got a cinnamon roll–flavored Pop-Tart from the kitchen. She was sitting down to check her e-mail when there was a knock at the door. For a moment, she thought maybe Cristian had returned for an encore, but a peek in the peephole dashed those hopes. Stanley, her increasingly beleaguered concierge, had another unmarked plain brown envelope for her, origin unknown.
Fina’s good mood made the arrival of the third anonymous note a little easier to swallow, but it didn’t change the fact that she needed to figure out the identity of the letter writer before he or she decided to escalate.
Sitting at the table, Fina studied the note. She’d had an inkling over the last few days that there was something about the threats that seemed familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Nothing about the materials used struck her as unique or difficult to source. A stop at the newsstand and the local CVS would provide everything needed. The notes could be from anyone who wanted her to go away, and frankly, that was a rather long list these days. She put the latest threat aside, hopeful that her brain would chew on it even if she didn’t give it her full attention.
Switching her attention to her e-mail, Fina found that Evan had sent a complete list of the dates of the leadership committee meetings to fill the holes in the timeline. She carried her computer over to the wall and marked the missing meetings on the calendar.
Fina took a step back and surveyed the wall.
Wouldn’t you know it? Nadine’s illness coincided with not only the neighborhood association meetings, but also the leadership committee meetings.
So much for narrowing down the field.
• • •
Fina had spent more time in Macy’s in the previous two weeks than she had in the previous three decades. Her forays into the store confirmed her feeling that unlike some women, she was not born to shop. Searching through racks of merchandise and trying on countless items qualified as the tenth circle of hell, and the only reason she was making a return trip was to get some answers from Lucas.
She didn’t bother to announce herself to a salesperson, but instead, entered the “employees only” area and wound her way back to Lucas’s office.
Fina knocked on his open door and leaned against the frame. He was on the phone, gabbing about hem lengths. When he looked up and saw Fina, he tripped over his words, and his smile dimmed.
“I need to call you back, Ann,” he said before replacing the receiver. “I can’t talk. I’m working,” he told Fina.
“I’ll be quick.” She took a seat across from him. “A little birdie told me that you borrowed antifreeze from the church.”
Lucas’s face froze.
“That’s right, Lucas. Someone is throwing you under the bus.”
He kept staring at her, but didn’t respond.
“You’ve got nothing to say about it?” Fina asked.
“Who told you that?”
“Does it really matter? It’s out there now.”
He cleared his throat. “‘I tell you, on the day of judgment, people will give account for every careless word they speak.’ Matthew 12:36.”
“That may be, but I’m not holding my breath for judgment day. Nor are the police.”
“You told the police?”
“No, but the cops hear stuff. People are not good at keeping secrets.”
Lucas folded his hands on his messy desk and closed his eyes. Fina waited while he consulted his higher power.
“People who gossip destroy the fabric of a community,” he said. “It shouldn’t be tolerated.”
“So you didn’t borrow the antifreeze?”
“If I did it was for purely innocent reasons. I want to know who told you this. He or she sho
uld be brought up before the leadership committee.”
“That’s going to get a little tricky,” Fina said under her breath.
Lucas leaned forward quickly, prompting a stack of circulars and folders to sail off the desk in Fina’s direction. She reached down and collected them before placing them on the corner of the desk.
He narrowed his eyes. “It was Gabby, wasn’t it?”
“You two don’t like each other much, do you?”
“Was it her?”
“I can’t give up my sources, Lucas. That would be bad for business, but I am curious about the beef between you two. Is it because you’re always competing for Greg’s attention?”
“Don’t be absurd. We’re not in competition.”
“And yet, you assume she’s telling tales about you.”
Lucas studied his fingernails. “It was just a guess. She isn’t as perfect as she would lead you to believe.”
“I’m well aware of her imperfections. Is Greg aware of them, do you think?”
“Pastor Greg needs to focus his energy on leading the flock. He can’t be bothered with gossip and innuendo.”
“I’m just trying to figure out if that’s why you might have killed Nadine—because her presence was distracting Pastor Greg from his holy work.”
“You need to leave. I’ve got to prepare for a meeting,” Lucas said, reaching for the stack of papers and tidying them needlessly.
“Always a pleasure,” Fina said. “I’m not sure how I’ve gone through life up to this point without a daily dose of scripture.”
“Your soul would benefit from some reflection and study,” Lucas said harshly.
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
Fina left the mall and inhaled deeply. It was a relief to be free from the recycled air heavy with perfume and teenage angst.
It wasn’t clear who was lying about what, but at the moment, it didn’t really matter.
