Mission to Murder (A Tourist Trap Mystery)
Page 10
“I’m good, really.”
Esmeralda ignored me. Waving her free hand over my body, she closed her eyes, then her movements stopped and her eyes flew open in surprise. “You have found a path. But the road will lead others to the wrong conclusion, but you … you will find the truth in this journey. Follow it.”
An elderly couple gave us a wide berth with their cart. I waved, trying to smile. The woman didn’t have any boundaries. When the prophecy hit, it hit. I wondered what she did in the shower. Maybe she had one of those shower notepads I’d seen advertised on late-night television?
“Jill? Are you listening to me?” Esmeralda’s voice brought me back out of my mental wanderings.
“Sorry, I thought I knew those people.” I nodded toward the couple who now were close to running, trying to get away from us.
Esmeralda glanced at the retreating couple. “Doubtful,” she responded. “I think you were ignoring me.”
“I was not.” My shoulders squared as I faced her. “I’m supposed to follow a road even though it will be wrong.”
“No, the road is correct, but others will think it foolhardy.”
Shaking my head, I put a hand out to stop her rambles. “Seriously, Esmeralda, I know you believe this stuff, but I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”
“Just follow the path.” Esmeralda glanced at her cart. “Oops, I almost forgot shrimp for the salad.”
And she turned and left me. The tornado known as Esmeralda had passed. All I had of the encounter was a general statement to follow some road. “I need to find me a real psychic rather than this wannabe fortune-teller,” I mumbled to the Asian pears.
I pushed the cart farther into the produce section and was choosing between several varieties of apples out of the large selection when I heard my name called again. Maybe I should have tried the farmers’ market, it might have been less crowded. The person called out “Jill” a second time. Certainly there were more Jills in the world than me? Spinning around I saw Tina Baylor and His Honor the Mayor standing behind her, pushing a grocery cart. I had to say, the cart looked good on him. Like he could do a day’s worth of manual labor, something I hadn’t believed to be true.
“Jill? That is you. I told Marvin it was you, but he didn’t believe me.” She turned and smiled at her husband. “Did you, dear? He asked what you’d be doing out of South Cove, but your sweet little shop is closed on Sunday this week, right?”
“Yep. It’s a short reprieve, but we enjoy the extra day off.” Seriously, I could have opened the store today if I had known everyone from town would want to chat. Fake it, I reminded myself as I pasted back on my smile, my jaw already hurting. “You guys shopping?”
The mayor gawked at me like I was stupid. He opened his mouth to respond, but his wife threw him a look, stopping the words he’d been about to say.
“Just a few things. We’re hosting a family barbeque later. Just a small affair. Maybe you and Greg could come?” The woman appeared hopeful.
“Actually, I think he’s working tonight and I already accepted another offer.” Make it vague, I thought. She didn’t need to know my offer was from my couch.
“Too bad, maybe next time. Come along, dear.” The mayor started the cart moving.
“Now, hold on a second, the girls aren’t done talking here.” She studied me. “Men, they act like they are going to be humiliated if they are found in a grocery store by one of their buddies. I had to drag him here. Does Greg help you with the household chores?”
“I think he has enough of his own.” And his ex-wife’s, I added silently. “I’m pretty self-sufficient.”
“Oh, no matter, I’m sure that will change when the two of you move in together.” She actually winked at me. “Once you get them hooked on the honey, they’ll do anything you want.”
I could feel my face warm. “It was great talking to you.” I shoved four Gala apples into a plastic bag.
“Wait, there was one more thing.” She stepped in front of my cart.
“I have to go,” I said, even though I didn’t.
“This will only take a second.” She glanced around the produce section. Satisfied the corn was the only thing with ears, she leaned closer. “Who is the secret mystery author? Tell me it’s Stephen King. I love his books.”
“Stephen King isn’t a mystery author. His work is mostly horror, or sometimes thriller.” Of course this woman would know that if she actually shopped for books in my shop. “I’ve got a great selection of his works at the shop. You should come in and browse one day soon.”
Tina Baylor appeared crestfallen. “Oh. I thought maybe since he has a book coming out that week …”
“It’s a good guess, but even if it was Stephen King, I couldn’t tell you because my aunt hasn’t told me.” I shrugged. “I guess we’ll both be surprised.”
“You have to be kidding.” She glanced at her husband. “You’re telling me you don’t know? Is there even an author coming in that night?”
“Yes, there’s an author. I don’t know who it is because my aunt knows I can’t keep a secret to save my life.” I moved the cart around her. “I do hope I’ll see you on the reveal night. It should be fun.”
As I walked away, I heard Tina whisper to her husband, “You were right. She doesn’t know anything. What a waste. I guess Greg likes them dumb.”
I bit my lip to keep from responding. She knew I could still hear her. Now I knew who could stand to be married to Mayor Baylor, the meanest man in South Cove.
Someone just like him.
I kept my head down for the rest of the shopping trip, trying to get through the store without running into anyone who might know me, or my aunt, or even a person from South Cove.
I turned the corner into the laundry detergent aisle and ran my cart right into Mayor Baylor. He stood there staring at me, a box of fabric sheets in his hand. “Miss Gardner,” he almost hissed the words. “I wanted to tell you that even though Mr. Morgan has passed on, you’re still on notice with the historical commission. I’m sure they’ll find that your wall is nothing more than old bricks.”
Then he walked to the front of the aisle, where I saw Tina and the cart waiting for him. She narrowed her eyes as he came toward her and without another word, disappeared toward the checkout lanes.
I felt numb. Not only were Craig and Josh part of this campaign against the wall certification, now the mayor wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he supported their bid. I slowly walked through the rest of the store. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I’d reached the dairy section and was standing in front of a selection of cheese with the finish line in sight when I felt a touch on my shoulder.
Greg stood there, a package of steaks in his hand. He kissed me on the top of my head, then asked, “Did you get beer?”
CHAPTER 11
Greg followed me home and pulled his truck into the driveway right behind my Jeep, currently overheating from the drive. Steam poured out from under the hood.
He pulled sacks out of the back of the Jeep. “You need to go buy a new car.”
“I know. Hey, I’m going into Bakerstown again tomorrow to talk to Frank, maybe you could meet me over at the car dealership?” I grabbed the last of the groceries out of the car and closed the door with my hip.
Greg held the gate open for me. “Sorry, I’ve got a meeting with the DA at three and I’m still not ready. This case is becoming a royal pain in the butt.”
“Figures. Craig was a pain when he was alive, why would his death be any different?” I grinned as I put the key in the lock and swung the door open.
“Not funny, Suspect Number One.” Greg moved past me into the kitchen. I shut the front door with my foot and followed him after tossing my purse and keys on a table in the entry.
“Seriously, the rumor around town is that my boyfriend, the police detective, cleaned up the evidence against me.” I opened the back door and Emma charged inside. I knelt down and hugged my dog. “At least you love me, don’t yo
u, sweetheart.”
He came close and pulled me up into a hug. “She’s afraid you won’t be around to feed her if you go to jail.”
“So not funny.” I gazed into his face and he leaned down and kissed me. The stress left my body and I melted into his strong arms.
After thoroughly kissing me, he touched my nose as he stared at me. “I didn’t mean it as funny. You still have the strongest motive for killing Craig.”
“Everyone in town had a motive for killing Craig.” I filled Emma’s food dish and took her water bowl to the sink. As I ran water to wash and fill the container, Greg pulled two longnecks from the refrigerator. He opened both, set mine next to the sink, and took a long swig out of his.
“I read somewhere the taste of beer sends messages to the pleasure sections of your brain.” He set the bottle down, then started unpacking the sacks. A part of me wondered if Aunt Jackie was right, that we were too comfortable with each other. The other part of me told that part to shut up and let the man work.
I set the water bowl down on Emma’s rug. She ignored it, choosing to stay focused on the dog food. “Then I guess all you need is a taste. Seems a waste of the rest of the bottle.”
Greg grinned and my heart fell to my feet. The man could seriously grin. “So true.” He put the package of steaks on the counter. “We’re grilling, right?”
“Is there another answer?” I sat at the table.
He joined me. “We could go out.”
“We just got back from Bakersfield, now you want to drive there again?” I pulled at the edge of the label on the bottle.
“Not really. We could go to Lille’s,” he offered.
“I ate breakfast there. I’d rather stay home.” I took a sip of the beer.
Greg nodded. “Me, too. I wanted to make sure you did want to stay put. My job forces us to stay in a lot. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I kind of figured it went with the territory when I started dating you. What am I going to say, quit your job?” Apparently Aunt Jackie’s comment bothered him more than I’d realized.
“You wouldn’t be the first.” Greg reached over and took my hand in his.
I squeezed. “I’m not Sherry.” I’d never met Greg’s ex but she’d called enough times when we were together I felt like I knew her. And not in a good way.
“Thank God for that.” Greg seemed to consider something. “You know I don’t think you killed Craig, right?”
I nodded. “I would worry if you did. But am I really the best suspect?”
Greg smiled, but his grin was sad. “You fought with him twice in front of witnesses hours before his death. He was trying to undercut the marketing funding for any business besides The Castle. And there are rumors he was working with Josh to get the mission wall project blackballed by the historical commission.”
“Well, when you put it like that, I guess I’d even find myself guilty.” I sighed. “Is it going to be okay?”
“I won’t let them railroad you. I’m going to find the killer, Jill. I promise.” His phone buzzed. “Tox reports are expected in soon. I’d better take this.”
I nodded. Watching him walk out of the room, a touch of fear grabbed me. I decided it was time to start cooking. Food cures all fear. Or something like that. I pulled the lettuce and salad ingredients out on the sink. Washing the Bibb lettuce made me think of Esmeralda and her cart filled with produce. And her direction—Follow the path. What path was I on? I’d been trying to keep the wall from being called a fraud, keep my aunt in line at the shop, and keep Greg from having to arrest me for Craig’s murder.
Which path was my salvation? One or all?
By the time Greg came back into the kitchen, I’d finished the salad, started some water to boil for a pasta salad, and seasoned the steaks with a spicy rub I’d picked up at the store. And I’d made my game plan for tomorrow.
He glanced at my progress and smiled. “I’ll go start the grill.”
“Did you get results?” I put my hand on his arm, slowing his movement.
He turned back and smiled. “I did. Not sure what they mean, but Jill, I think we have a lead. Finally.”
And then he left the kitchen whistling. Apparently, his lead wouldn’t be pillow talk.
Jackie’s car sat parked outside City Hall when I arrived the next morning. She’d driven less than a block and a half from the apartment. I’d walked almost a half mile. When she slipped out of the sedan, I saw the reason. She’d dressed in a little black dress with stiletto heels. Her spy outfit, apparently.
“Ready?” she whispered.
“After you.” My aunt made me smile most days, but she’d outdone herself this morning. She was carrying an honest-to-God briefcase. Probably one of Uncle Ted’s that she couldn’t bear to part with.
Amy smiled as we approached her desk. “Hey, guys, what brings you out on a Monday? I figured you’d be over in the city today.”
I gave Amy a quick hug. “Look, we’ve got a favor. We need to do some research in the building permits. Can we?”
Amy shrugged. “Sure. I’ve been working in the back files trying to get everything in order, but I haven’t finished the project. Do you know what you’re looking for? Miss Emily’s house or the shop building?”
Aunt Jackie leaned forward. “Neither. We want to look at the City Hall permits.”
“For this building?” Amy pointed downward. “Why?”
“We’re trying to confirm or deny what was on this property before the building was built. Have you done any research on the building?” I knew if anyone had researched the building, it would be my friend. Amy was a city planner by profession, but she cobbled together a full-time job here in South Cove by being the mayor’s receptionist as well as the city planner.
“Not much, but I can show you what I’ve got.” She keyed the phone so that calls would go directly to voice mail and grabbed some keys and a BE RIGHT BACK sign from her desk.
We followed her down the hall to the last door, Aunt Jackie’s heels clicking on the fake marble floor. Entering the room, Amy flipped on the lights and I heard a faint skittering. My skin crawled. Mice. Stacks of boxes lined the room on three sides with a single table and a chair in the middle, the fluorescent lamp hanging loose out of the ceiling over the top. A row of black filing cabinets ran the fourth wall.
“Love what you’ve done so far,” I joked.
Amy swatted my arm. “Give me a break. You wouldn’t believe how much stuff I’ve already gone through. This used to be two rooms of boxes.”
She walked over to the filing cabinets. “I don’t have many of the early papers unboxed, but what I do have is here.” She touched the first cabinet.
“And if it’s not there?” Jackie asked, looking down at her black dress in horror, brushing imaginary dust off the hem.
Amy walked over to the far corner of the room. “I’m thinking these boxes. I tried to keep everything together, but I had an intern help with the moving, so who knows where she put things.”
I pointed Jackie to the file cabinet. “You take the files; I’ll go through the boxes.” I grabbed the top one and moved it to the table.
“I’ll get another chair.” Amy left the room.
Jackie sighed and opened the first drawer. “I guess I was assuming micro-filmed records. Who keeps actual paper?”
“South Cove, apparently.” I blew off the dust on the box as Amy slipped in with a chair.
I opened the first box and pulled out a file. “Hey, do you want me to try to sort as I’m going through this?”
Amy smiled. “Sure. I’ll bring in some file folders and you can put the paperwork into piles by year.” She stood at the door. “The mayor’s out today so I have some time. Do you want me to take a box to my desk?”
With Amy’s help, we’d be through this a lot faster. “If you don’t tell your boss what we’re looking for.”
Amy grabbed a box and walked back to the hallway. “Believe me, I don’t tell my boss a lot of things.”
“Go. I’ll work here for another hour or so, but if I don’t find anything, I’ll come back tomorrow.” Jackie brushed dust off a file she’d brought out of the bottom drawer. “With a mousetrap.”
“Call me if you find anything.” I tucked the files I’d been collecting into the box and walked it out to Amy. She was on the phone. The last box I’d brought out she’d already scanned and separated into appropriate files, all ready to go into the next empty cabinet. She waved me off, making the “call me” sign with her hand.
My meeting with Frank Gleason was about as productive as the morning had been. He pretended we hadn’t had an appointment when I cornered him at the historical commission.
He walked away from me as I approached. “I have nothing new to report. You wasted a trip.”
“Have you seen their evidence?” I held up my phone. “I have a peek right here. We need to get ahold of the original document so the paper can be age-tested. You guys do that, right?”
Frank stopped in the middle of the hallway, glancing around me to see if anyone was within earshot. “Look, I’ll do what I can. But it’s becoming apparent that maybe what we thought was the mission site isn’t.” He held his hand up to silence my outcry. “I know you’re invested in the results. The commission has to examine both sides of the argument. I’m not saying the site isn’t old. The coins you found prove the site does have historic significance, but we have to face the possibility it’s not the original mission site.”
I pointed to my phone. “This is wrong. Either the drawing was manipulated or it’s an out-and-out lie. You believe the wall is the mission, I know you do.”
Frank put his hand on my arm, a gesture he’d never even attempted before. I didn’t think the guy touched anyone. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter what a person believes; it matters what we can prove. Right now, the proof is running against us.”