by Lynn Cahoon
“Did he kill Craig?”
This time Greg paused before he answered. “I think so. I mean, there’s motive and opportunity. But something doesn’t feel right. Of course, his disappearing act today doesn’t work in his favor. I’m not ready to convict him yet. But I do want to kick his ass for scaring you.”
Greg’s words warmed me. “And if I need my boyfriend to beat up another guy to protect my honor, I’ll be sure to call you.”
“Anytime.” Greg stood. “Look, I need to get back.”
I stood, as well. “I take it my bodyguard is still out in his car?”
“No taking him coffee. No bringing him crosswords. No leaving the house.” Greg tapped my nose. “Stay in the house until tomorrow. Is that too much to ask?”
I wanted to argue. Say I wasn’t a too-stupid-to-live girl, yet we both knew better. I’d left the house twice the last time there was a homicidal ex-high school teacher stalking me, and the second time, I got a trip to the hospital for my kindness. A thought niggled at me. “So why did you focus on Ray? Just because he worked for Craig?”
Greg stared at me for a long time, then shrugged. “Actually it was the crumpled Diamond Lille’s promotional glass with remnants of rum and Coke. Ray’s fingerprints and probably DNA were all over the plastic.”
“But you said there weren’t any fingerprints on the crate door.” Or at least that was what I’d thought he’d said the other night.
“There were fingerprints all over the crate, none of them belonging to Ray. He must have worn gloves.” Greg talked slowly, like he was explaining the way a revolving door worked to a five-year-old.
“Really? He finished a quart of rum and Coke, throws the glass on the ground, then slips on vinyl gloves for his theft?” I could see the disbelief on Greg’s face. He held his hands up, blocking my words.
“Look, I know it’s not perfect, but if he was drunk …” Greg explained.
I shook my head. “If he was drunk, he would have never put the gloves on in the first place. Ray’s not the brightest guy, but does he seem this stupid to you?”
Greg pressed his lips together. “Not your business, Jill. I don’t tell you how to make coffee.” Ouch, that stung. Anger cleared my head and I wanted to bite back. But I held my tongue. I was tired. He was tired. Tomorrow he would see my side. He always listened to what I thought. Just, apparently, not tonight.
“Wait, did I tell you about the other guy with Ray?”
Greg frowned. “What other guy? When he stopped on the road?”
“No, at the crate. There was another guy.” I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten. “Sarge, his name was Sarge. Big, gruff guy, but I never saw his face.”
“Doesn’t mean that Ray’s not a piece of crap,” Greg grumbled.
“Look, I’m tired. And grumpy. Before I say something to annoy you further, I’m going to bed.”
Greg stood there.
I raised my eyebrows. “Which is your clue to leave. You have Toby on guard. I’ll put the chair under my bedroom door like I have for the last week, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
He threw the soda can in my recycling bin a little too hard. Then he turned and said, “Lock the door after me.”
I followed him as he stomped out. Our first fight. I touched his arm as he stepped through the doorway. “Greg, I’m—”
He didn’t let me finish my apology. “Just lock the door.” His words were hard and he kept walking until he’d reached the fence. When he saw me standing outside on the porch watching him leave, he yelled back, “Go inside and lock the door.”
I stepped inside, my insides burning. I wanted to run after him. To put my arms around him and have him tell me everything would be okay. Instead, I turned the locks on the door. Emma whined next to me.
“You’re right, girl. Sometimes men are hard to understand.” I walked around the house, checking locks and turning out lights. Then I slipped upstairs, but sleep didn’t come easily.
A loud knocking dragged me out of the dream that had kept me circling all night. Ray was standing outside my car door, but for some reason, the locks weren’t working, so I had to keep holding the doors shut, but then he’d be at another door, and I’d have to grab that door. Over and over, and I knew, if he got in, I would be dead.
I pushed off the antique quilt I’d found at a local flea market last summer. Pulling my hair back with a clip I found on my nightstand, I moved the chair from under the doorknob. The knocking got louder. “Hold on,” I called downstairs. Emma jumped in front of me and ran to the front door, barking.
When I got to the door, Toby stood on my porch with a box. I unlocked the door and leaned against the doorway. “What’s up?”
Toby pushed in the doorway. Then turned and considered me. “Cute Snoopy pj’s. Don’t you think you should get ready for work?”
I checked the oversized wall clock I’d found at the same flea market where I’d snagged the quilt, a year later. Five after six. I opened at seven on Tuesday. “Crap.”
Toby laughed and sauntered to the kitchen. “I’ll make us coffee.”
I sprinted to the stairs, then turned back and scrutinized Toby. “Why are you here again?”
“The boss—Greg, not you—told me I’m to stay with you twenty-four /seven unless he’s here. And he says to tell you he’s too busy to see you for a few days.” Toby shook his head. “You two must have had a doozy of a fight last night. The big guy’s face was beet red when he stopped by the cruiser. What was it about, anyway?”
“None of your business. Besides, maybe we didn’t have a fight.” I tried to act nonchalant about the whole thing.
“Yeah, and I’m a monkey’s uncle.” Toby shrugged. “No worries. I guess it means we’re not friends like I thought we were.”
“Stop the guilt trip.” I turned back and went up to shower and change.
By the time I returned to the kitchen, coffee was brewed and a plate with several varieties of donuts sat at the table. Emma sat on the porch outside the screen door looking in at the treats and drooling. “You stop, too.”
I grabbed a maple bar and poured coffee into a to-go cup. I watched Toby flip through messages on his phone. Slipping into a chair beside him, I tried to read over his shoulder. “What’s happening?”
Toby clicked his phone off and stuck a donut whole into his mouth. “Nothing you need to know about.” He took his cup to the sink. “You ready to go to work?”
“You heading home after you drop me off?” I grabbed my purse and keys, shutting the back door.
He smirked. “Really? You think Greg will let me leave you unprotected?”
“Macho. Even real men have to sleep now and then.” We walked through the living room.
“Tim relieved me about midnight. Right after Greg left.” Toby held open the driver’s side passenger door.
I stood still. “You have got to be kidding.”
“You know I can’t have civilians up front. And besides, I think you like it.” Toby grinned.
“It stinks back there.” I stood my ground. “I could walk to work, no biggie.”
“Except Greg would kill me when he found out. So, you can go willingly or you can find out what it’s like to feel the wrath of Officer Toby.” At that, he did a muscleman pose.
I had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
Toby sat at the counter reading the Examiner and commenting on Darla’s exposé on the murder. His snide comments kept me laughing while I stocked the front and prepped for the week ahead. I’d noticed several boxes from the book distributor stacked in the back. I considered opening one and outing the mystery author, at least to me. But I resisted. One Christmas I’d found the stash of gifts my mom had tucked in the closet. I’d been disappointed when I opened the carefully wrapped packages; even though it had been exactly what I’d asked for, the surprise had disappeared. I moved the boxes behind a door so I wouldn’t be as tempted.
When Lille burst through the coffee shop door an hour later, my day got
way worse.
“Where is he? Holed upstairs in the apartment or in the house you stole from that old lady?” Lille burst through the door, her blond hair stuck to the side of her head, her eyes wild and red-rimmed, like she’d been crying most of the night.
“If you’re looking for Ray, I haven’t seen him.” I steeled myself for her fury. But deep down, I felt bad for her. It couldn’t be easy to be in love with a man like that, always questioning your place in his life.
“Liar.” Lille’s voice was hard. “I’ve already heard the two of you were chatting on the highway yesterday.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed. Her face burned a brighter red. “Look, I ran out of gas. Ray stopped when he saw my car.” Here I stopped for a minute. Did I tell her the love of her life scared me so bad I kept my doors locked and flagged down the next car coming down the road? Would that make her happy? Or crazier? “I didn’t even get out of the car until Bill showed up. Then Ray took off. That’s the last I saw of him. Seriously, ask Toby, he was outside the house most of the night.”
Lille’s eyes narrowed. She glanced at Toby, who nodded. I could see the thoughts running through her head. Finally, she formulated the question, and I knew it pained her to ask. “Why were you outside her house? Did someone threaten Jill?”
Toby paused as Lille took a deep breath to steel herself for the answer she knew was coming. He glanced at me, then answered her question. “Lille, you need to know we’ve been out at Ray’s with a search warrant. He’s a person of interest in Craig’s murder.”
Lille’s coloring went from beet-red to death-white in a second. “No way. Ray is sweet and kind. Deep down to his soul. He couldn’t have done something like this.” Her gaze dropped and she seemed like she was processing the idea, trying to come up with an alternative. Her eyes widened, then she pointed at Jill. “Her. She killed Craig. They were probably having an affair or something, like she bewitched my Ray. The woman’s a she devil.”
Toby put his hand on Lille’s shoulder. “Now, there, you know Jill didn’t kill Craig.” Toby shot her a glance. “As far as an affair, well, I’m not going there.”
“Yech,” I said before I thought twice and edited my comment. “The guy was a total jerk. No way would I get involved with him. Besides, I’m pretty sure his wife would take me in a fair fight.”
Lille narrowed her eyes. “I’ll tell Greg that Ray was with me. Where is your boss?” She directed the question to Toby, deciding I wasn’t worth the time it took to say the words.
“You can’t lie,” Toby warned her. “Perjury is a serious crime. Besides, if he’s found not guilty, then you have to remember which lie you told.”
“I don’t care. Ray wouldn’t do this. He’s troubled, I’m not stupid. He might cheat.” She paused and shot a look my way. “But he’s not a murderer.”
“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think?” Toby asked, then shook his head. “Look, Lille, we can argue this for days, but until Ray talks to Greg and gets this cleared up, he’s still going to be a suspect. If you know where he might be, tell us and we can get this over with. You know Greg’s a fair guy. If Ray didn’t kill Craig, Greg will find out who did.”
Lille sighed and sat heavily into one of the upholstered chairs by the door. She pulled out a notebook from her purse and started writing something. “I figured he was with you.” She didn’t look up before she continued, “But since he’s not, the only other place would be his dad’s cabin up in the mountains east of here. Take Green Valley Road to the dead end and go left. It’s on a lake up there.”
Toby took the offered paper, then looked at me. “I’m going in the back to call Greg. You going to be okay here if he wants me to take a run?”
I smiled. “No, I’m totally helpless and useless without your company and protection.” I swatted his arm. “I’ll be fine. As I told your boss last night.”
Lille waited for Toby to leave the room before she stood and pulled her purse closer. “I guess I better get over to the diner. Who knows what a mess they’ve made without me there this morning.”
I felt like I should say something. “Lille, I’m here if you want to talk.”
I saw her shoulders shake a bit. She turned and studied me. “I know this isn’t your fault, but it’s still hard to see you as anything but the enemy. I don’t think talking is going to change that.”
Then she walked out the door. She was right. Sometimes the pain was too deep to even pretend it wasn’t there. I wondered about her on-again-off-again relationship with Ray and whether this time, the switch would stay off. For her sake, I hoped so.
Toby burst back into the empty dining room. “Call Jackie and have her come down and stay with you. Greg wants me to check out this lead on Ray.”
“Yes, sir. You want fries with that?”
Toby blushed. “Come on, Jill. You know I’m only repeating my orders.”
I thought about Greg’s face when he left last night. Frustrated with me … and something else. Worry. Adding to his concern wouldn’t get this case solved; in fact, it could stand in the way of getting it done. For once, I swallowed my pride and picked up the phone.
“Jackie? I need you downstairs.” I hung up without letting her argue. I raised my eyebrows. “Satisfied?”
He nodded, then headed out to the street. As I watched him through the large front windows, I wondered if this nightmare was almost over.
CHAPTER 21
The afternoon dragged. Tuesday was my long day, but I typically got a break when Toby came in for the midday shift. Today, everyone kept asking, “Where’s Toby?” when I gave them their change. I almost put a sign on the door: TOBY’S DAY OFF. But then I’d lose the customers. It might be a bait and switch, but the guy would be back tomorrow. They could go one day without a hot, handsome barista. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I thought.
Jackie had been more blunt. “The stud isn’t here today. Off chasing bad guys. I’m sure he’ll have stories tomorrow.”
I’d sent her in the back to make a couple of sandwiches and we ate in shifts, Toby’s clientele keeping us busy until five, when Jackie’s normal shift started. As the room cleared, Jackie cut a cheesecake for the display case. “I’m feeling jealous of the Toby show.”
“He does bring in the business.”
“Well, I’m heading upstairs. I’ve got to switch out these shoes. My dogs are barking.” My aunt disappeared with the last slice of the cheesecake. I glanced at the clock; she’d be gone at least a half hour, watching her favorite game show.
My thoughts returned to the day when both Toby and I had been hospitalized from a blow by a two-by-four delivered by George Jones looking for pirate gold. When Toby’s girlfriend had rushed to the hospital, she’d been surprised to see another woman holding Toby’s hand. And calling herself his girlfriend. I’d heard both girls dumped him right after his release, but apparently the line of women for the Toby show, as Jackie called it, was deep.
I’d been lost in thoughts of Toby’s wild ways when the bell chimed. I glanced up to see Lisa Brewer and her new beau, all six foot tall and muscle-bound in black leather, walk through the door. Then he did a strange thing. He locked the door and turned the open sign to closed. My mouth felt dry, and my heart rate sped up. This was not good.
I saw Josh Thomas walk by and look through the window, probably trying to see if Jackie was working. I waved, hoping my action would alert him to a problem. The jerk waved back and kept walking.
Lisa came over to the counter. “If you want to live through the next few hours, stop doing stupid things like that.”
I snorted. “I’m not stupid. My chances of surviving are about as good as Craig’s. What, didn’t like your job?”
“So you think this is the part where we bond and I tell you the problems I had growing up and how my stepfather abused me?” Lisa shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t owe you an explanation for Craig or your upcoming ‘accident.’ ”
“Move her to the back,” the man
said. And for once, I hoped Jackie had snuck upstairs to her television. My aunt didn’t need to be a part of this.
“Hold on,” Lisa whined and went over to the large man, rubbing her hands on his bare chest under the black leather jacket. “Baby, let me handle this. I want a mocha before we get down to business.”
Seriously? My mind raced. Leave it to a teenager. Maybe I could throw the hot drink at one of them and run like hell.
“Kids.” Reno glared at me. “You heard her. Make up one of those mocha things. You don’t have anything stronger like a beer or tequila back there?”
“We’re a coffee shop, not a bar.” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. I tried to stand tall, not letting my fear show. I started the motions for Lisa’s mocha.
“Probably better anyway.” His lips curled into a smile. “I’m not a happy drunk.”
I visibly shuddered, trying to keep my mind on the routine actions of making a coffee drink. It could be my last action in this world; I should put some thought into the process.
“So you killed Craig for the drugs. What, was he threatening to sell to a higher bidder?” I kept my head down, not wanting to see the happy couple standing together, a large pistol aimed at me. Bonnie and Clyde, but one of them was at least twenty years older than the other.
“I told you they knew about the drugs.” Lisa spoke and I couldn’t help looking at her. Her full attention was on Reno, and neither saw my scrutiny. “So this will be easy; she commits suicide with an overdose. A lot of the city people who move here had secret addictions. She’ll just be another one.”
“I don’t know. We have Ray set up for the murder. I think having two suspects only muddies the water. We don’t want Ray getting out of prison before the boys have time to reach him. Sargent has this planned out. You don’t want to mess with his plan. He’s not as mellow as I am.” Reno eased into the same chair where Lille had been sitting earlier. “This is comfortable. We should think about getting something like this for the trailer.”
I started foaming milk, wanting to scream, run, anything but listen to these two discuss murder and furniture like they were the same thing. The two were classic sociopaths, if I had to label them. My hand started shaking, and I set down the pitcher. Both of them were too far away to do anything but maybe cause them to slip when they came after me.
