Blazing Summer (Darling Investigations Book 2)

by Denise Grover Swank

  Her eyes widened. “What does she expect the mayor to do?”

  “I don’t know, but Elijah has been suspended for a few days.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded.

  “What do you have planned for the rest of the afternoon?” I asked as an idea came to me.

  “Harold was the only person available to come by for an interview on such short notice, so nothing.”

  “How do you feel about being a spy?”

  She gave me a hesitant look. “That’s a loaded question.”

  “I’m super curious to know what Connor’s up to.” I paused, giving her a chance to stop me, but her eyes glittered with interest.

  “Go on.”

  I sat up. “I want you to find him and his team, tell them you blame me for what happened this afternoon, and say you want to switch sides. You can even tell them I can’t find any cases and you want to earn your keep. It will make Connor cocky and Lauren gloat. But we’ll be onto what they’re doin’.”

  The devious glint in her eyes shouldn’t have made me so happy, but it was good to see Dixie acting like Dixie. Not feeling defeated. “I’ll tell them you decided to cut me out,” she said. “They’ll be more likely to trust me that way.”

  “You might need to do a couch interview about what happened and why you want to work with Connor.”

  She made a face and waved a hand in dismissal. “Not a problem.” She grinned. “I’m gonna love this.”

  I gave her a hesitant look. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

  She laughed, then grabbed her purse out of her desk drawer. “I’ll see you later.”

  I stood, my stomach flip-flopping. “Are you sure you want to do this? The idea just came to me. Maybe we should discuss it more.”

  “What’s there to discuss?” she asked with her hand already on the doorknob. “It’s brilliant. I’ll know what they’re up to, and you can find out if I burned down April Jean’s trailer.”

  My heart squeezed tight. “Dixie . . .”

  She lifted her chin with a defiant look. “Stop. Either I did or I didn’t, but I’m countin’ on you to find out the truth.”

  “Don’t talk to anyone about this, okay?” I asked. “Just let Teddy and me sort it all out. We don’t want anyone accusing you of anything.”

  “April Jean’s already accusin’ me. I don’t know who you think you’re foolin’. When you start askin’ questions, people are gonna know what you’re up to.”

  “You let me worry about that part,” I said, but I was already thinking about how much faster my work would go with two cameramen.

  Her eyes softened. “Summer . . . thank you. You doin’ this means a lot.”

  “I failed you before, Dix. I won’t fail you again.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. She looked like she was about to say something, but then she gave me a sharp nod and walked out the door.

  A few seconds later, Bill emerged from the back room. “You let her go to Connor?”

  “You think it was a bad idea?”

  “No, I think it was brilliant, but I know how much you hate the guy. You know he’s gonna gloat and hold this over your head.”

  I shrugged, refusing to admit how hard it would be to deal with his attitude. “She’s a spy. And she’ll be distracted and feel useful. It’s a win-win. I can live with his gloating in the short term, especially since I’ll get the last laugh.”

  “I agree,” Bill said as he stared out the window. “She wasn’t herself this afternoon. She needs something to keep her mind off all this.” His glance shifted to me. “So what do you want to do now?”

  “I want to talk to Gabby, but she’s at work.”

  “At the insurance office,” Tony said, rounding the corner.

  I could see he had a plan. “Yeah . . . ?”

  “I think we should go see Thelma Kuntz, the insurance agent, and talk to her about Bruce’s fire.”

  “But that’s Connor’s case. We’re already pushing it if we interview Bruce.”

  Tony grinned. “Your real interview is her assistant, Gabby Casey.” He turned to Bill, who hadn’t been at the police station with us. “Gabby was at Trent’s party last night, and she and April Jean don’t get along. They got into a fight at the Piggly Wiggly last week.”

  “Because Gabby’s jealous over her boyfriend sleepin’ with April Jean. The fact that Gabby’s got a thing for Trent Dunbar, and April Jean and Dixie do too, doesn’t help,” Bill said, sounding defeated. My eyebrows shot up, and he shrugged. “She told me everything.”

  I tilted my head. “Define everything.”

  “I know Dixie’s been seeing Trent Dunbar since he came back to town.”

  I sucked in a breath and slowly released it. “I’m sorry.”

  The side of his mouth scrunched in self-disgust. “I’m not surprised. I know I’m not the handsomest guy around. Girls like Dixie go for guys like Trent Dunbar.”

  I started to argue, but he wasn’t entirely wrong. Bill wasn’t unattractive, but he was average-looking. If he were standing next to Trent in a Mr. Hot Stuff contest, it wouldn’t even be close. But the only thing Trent had going for him was a pretty face, and I sure hoped Dixie was smarter than to base her choice on that. Whatever her reasons for taking up with Trent again, she’d hurt Bill in the process. “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “Maybe you’d rather not work on this case.”

  “And what would I work on?” he asked bitterly. “Because unlike Dixie, I’m not switching sides, and I’m not quitting either. This case is our key to a successful Season Two.”

  My guilt was overwhelming. “Bill . . .”

  “Stop,” he said. “I’m a professional. I can deal with this.”

  “If you can’t deal with it, let me know.”

  “And have you fire me? I assure you, I can separate my professional life from the personal. We need to go to the insurance office and meet with Gabby Casey.”

  “I’m still not sure I get the point of interviewing Thelma first,” I said.

  “That’s because you’re still thinking logically,” Tony said. “You need to think like a reality show. What’s more entertaining? Interviewing Gabby at her house, or going to her work and talking to her boss, and boom, all of a sudden Gabby’s giving us unexpected information.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “It feels wrong.”

  “Nevertheless,” Tony said, “it’s what you signed up for. Sure, we’ve got a real case, and this afternoon will make for some good entertainment, but we need more drama or people are going to fall asleep in their La-Z-Boys watching.” When I didn’t respond, he shifted his weight and lowered his voice. “Look, what you, Bill, and Dixie did last season was really good, but it could have been better.”

  I gasped and started to protest, but Tony held up his hand as Chuck walked around the corner and joined him.

  “He’s right,” Chuck said. “This is a reality TV show, not a documentary or an investigative-reporting show. You need the personal crap and drama to flesh it out.”

  “We can still make this real,” Tony said, “but we need it to be entertaining.”

  I dropped my arms to my side. “I see your point, but I don’t like it.”

  Tony nodded. “Duly noted. Now set up the interview at the insurance office.”

  I nodded my head. “Fine, I’ll set up the interview, but I don’t think she’s gonna talk on camera at her office.”

  Bill gave me a smile that suggested I was an idiot. “Don’t you remember the guy from April who talked about using drugs and where he got them? All while on camera. If you let the cameras roll long enough, they forget they’re there. Some of the things you and Dixie have said . . . I know you’ve forgotten too.”

  He had a point. “I still think it would be better to catch her somewhere else.”

  “If nothing else, you’ll piss off Connor. That has to be a plus.”

  I gave him a long look, then pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. “I’ll call Thelma and
see if we can talk to her before she leaves the office, but we should also arrange to talk to someone who was at the party and is sympathetic to Dixie. Did she happen to mention if anyone fits the bill?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice losing the sharp edge he’d had before. “Clementine Roland. Dixie said they were friends.”

  “Did she happen to mention anything about Clementine?”

  “Nope.”

  I would need to track down Clementine, and I didn’t want to ask Dixie. While I considered asking Amber, I wanted to save her goodwill for when I really needed it. Then I realized I could probably find her on the Sweet Happenings Facebook page.

  Sitting down at my desk, I booted up the computer and searched for the Sweet Briar page. I wasn’t surprised to see that the showdown in the street with Amelia was the top post, but the number of photographs caught me off guard. If TMZ was watching the page—and they would if they were smart (not that I planned to tip them off)—I suspected this would be national news by this evening.

  How would Connor feel about that? He was here to get his next fifteen minutes of fame and promote his book. I scrolled down the page to see if there was any mention of him. Other than a visitor post comparing him to a Jehovah’s Witness—he’d stolen her coffee and replaced it with green tea, then tried to convert her to the Connor Life all while on camera—there was nothing. If Connor knew about the page, he’d be pissed by the lack of coverage.

  But I was getting off track, so I clicked to see who had liked the page and began to scroll. I was thankful that word about the page hadn’t gotten out because Sweet Briar had fewer than three thousand residents, and the page only had 1,273 likes. When it became public knowledge, that number would skyrocket. As it was, it took me seconds to find Clementine Roland. Thankfully she hadn’t made her profile very private, and I could see she worked at Precious Darlings Daycare.

  I rolled my eyes. No doubt that was a play on my old nickname.

  She had lots of photos of her with her mother, several girls—including Dixie—and some of the kids at daycare, which I wasn’t sure was legal, but it was Sweet Briar.

  I jotted the information on a notepad, then looked up the daycare and decided to take a chance and call. Sweet Briar was a small town, and sometimes folks were a little freer with information—just like Clementine clearly was with her photos.

  Bill started filming as I made the call on speakerphone.

  A cheerful woman answered. “Precious Darlin’s Daycare.”

  “Hi, may I speak to Clementine?”

  “This is her.”

  I took a moment to regroup. I hadn’t planned on having such easy access to her. “Hey, Clementine, this is Summer Butler. Dixie Baumgartner’s cous—”

  “Oh, I know who you are. Dixie’s so excited that you’re back.”

  My chest warmed, and I felt a little emotional when I said, “I’m glad to be back. But Dixie’s the reason I’m calling.”

  “Oh?”

  “She was at Trent Dunbar’s party last night, and she said you were there too.”

  Clementine was silent for a moment, then lowered her voice. “I was.”

  “Do you think I could ask you a few questions about the party? What time do you get off?”

  “I was just leavin’ now. But I can’t talk to you here.”

  I sat up straighter, and Bill perked up. “Tell me when and where.”

  “I haven’t eaten all day. Meet me at Maybelline’s in ten minutes.” Her voice hardened. “I know you’re goin’ around town with your cameras, and I’ll tell you what I know, but not on camera. My boss can’t know.”

  “Okay. Done. See you in ten minutes.” I hung up and lifted my gaze to the guys, who looked like they’d just been rejected at a school dance. “Sorry, guys. She works at a daycare. If she was part of something seedy, she’s not gonna want her boss—and the parents—findin’ out.”

  “We can hide a camera,” Tony said.

  “She’ll never sign a release.”

  “We could at least leave your mike hot,” Chuck said. “Then we can take her voice and layer it over some shots of the diner or something.”

  My jaw tightened. “No.”

  Tony started to say something, but I held up my hand. “Yeah, Tony, I know this is a reality TV show, but it’s also Dixie’s life. I know she didn’t start that fire. I know someone drugged her. I plan to prove it, camera or no, with or without you.” I took a breath. “If Clementine has something good, maybe we can convince her to an on-camera interview if we can hide her identity. Smudge her face and distort her voice. But I agreed to no cameras for this first interview. I’m not goin’ back on that.”

  “This is bad TV,” Tony said.

  “But it makes me a decent human being.” I frowned, worried that Tony’s attitude leaned more closely toward Lauren’s than my own, but pleased to know that at least I had some boundaries. “Why don’t y’all take a break, and we’ll meet back here at six forty-five before we head to Garrett’s house.”

  “What about the insurance agent and her assistant?” Bill asked.

  “It’s almost four. I’m sure they close at five, but I can call and set something up for tomorrow.” But Gabby Casey would be at work tomorrow, and I still doubted she’d do much on-camera talking in front of her boss. Besides, I didn’t want to wait that long. “How about I call Thelma and ask for an interview tomorrow. You guys can head over there to get some B-roll while I’m at Maybelline’s. It’ll be close to closing, so Thelma probably won’t want to talk, but you can try to find out what Gabby’s doin’ tonight. Maybe we can interview her after we talk to Garrett.”

  “If I ask her, you do realize I’m gonna look like an old fart hitting on her, right?” Tony said.

  My mouth twisted to the side as I studied him. He was right. Tony was in his late thirties or early forties and had a dad-bod thing going on. “Then have Bill find out.”

  Bill started to protest, and I held up my hand. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let me see if you can go over first.”

  I called the insurance agency and asked to speak to Thelma. When we were connected, I introduced myself and asked her if I could set up an interview with her.

  “I already spoke with that old costar of yours . . . strange fellow . . . talking some nonsense about the Connor Life.”

  Connor would end up without any cases because he was pissing off half the town. If he kept it up, no one would talk to him. “While he’s workin’ Bruce Jepper’s case, I’m interviewing professionals who have come into contact with people affected by devastating fires. In fact, I’m speaking with Garrett Newcomer, a volunteer firefighter, tonight.”

  “Well . . . ,” she drawled out, “I’d rather help you than that lamebrain, but I’ll tell you up front what I told him—I can’t speak about any specific cases.”

  “Like I said, I’m not goin’ that angle, so that won’t be a problem.”

  “When would you like to come over?”

  “I have a quick interview in a few minutes, but it’s off camera, so if it’s okay with you, I want to send my camera crew over to get some B-roll—the background shots we use between interviews. I promise they’ll be out of your hair by five so y’all won’t have to stay late. Then you and I can talk tomorrow.”

  “We’re open until six on Tuesdays,” Thelma said. “So no worry there. Send your crew on over, and you can interview me when you’re done with your other one.”

  I brightened, and the guys perked up. “Thanks, Miss Thelma. I’ll send them over and see you in a little bit.”

  I hung up and relayed the information, and the guys started to pack up.

  I checked the time and stuffed my notepad in my purse. I couldn’t record my meeting with Clementine, but I could take notes so long as she didn’t object. “I’m heading to Maybelline’s. I’ll meet you over at the insurance office. You guys take my car. It’s only two blocks from the restaurant, so I’ll walk.”

  I handed Tony the keys as I hea
ded out the door, but I found myself lingering on the sidewalk outside the office, staring at Dixie’s empty desk through the office window. I had a feeling something bad was coming, and I had no idea how to stop it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Four o’clock was the perfect time for a semiprivate conversation at Maybelline’s Diner. It was well past the lunch hour and still too early for most folks to want dinner, with the exception of a few senior citizens, and they were usually hard of hearing.

  A young woman wearing jeans and a T-shirt covered in teddy bears was sitting in a booth facing the door. Her light-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her mouth was drawn, and the moment she laid eyes on me, she looked close to bolting.

  I gave her a soft smile and approached her table slowly. “Clementine?”

  She leaned forward to look around me. “Where’s Dixie?”

  Oh, crap. It had never occurred to me that she’d expect Dixie to be with me, but then of course she would. Dixie and I had been like eggs and bacon back in April.

  I stopped at the edge of the table. “She’s workin’ on another case. We both agreed she shouldn’t be workin’ on something related to her.”

  She gave a quick nod, reached into her purse, and pulled out a cigarette. Then, as though realizing where she was, she stuffed it back in her purse.

  “Would you be more comfortable talking somewhere else?” I asked. “Somewhere you can smoke?”

  She shook her head and folded her hands on the table. “No. I’m hungry.”

  I tilted my head toward the seat across from her. “Is it okay if I sit?”

  She nodded, then her eyes darted toward the door.

  Why was she so nervous? That, and the fact that she hadn’t asked me why I wanted to talk to her, told me that she definitely knew something.

  I slid into the booth seat and grimaced when my knee hit the pole under the table.