Picture Perfect Murder (Ryli Sinclair 1)

by Jenna St James

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t Garrett but Aunt Shirley.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  Silence…then a subtle wheezing.

  “Put that damn thing down and talk to me!” I yelled.

  “Don’t get your knickers in a wad,” Aunt Shirley said. I heard a drawer shut. “So, I’ve been thinking. I think we should get a hold of Janice and see what she knows about these murders. She was Iris’s best friend. If anyone knows something, it’d be her.”

  I had to admit it was a pretty good idea.

  “Do you think she’ll talk with us?” I asked.

  “I already called her. Said we can come by tonight around seven.”

  Shirley and I could question Janice, and I’d still have plenty of time to drive out to the ranch for dessert. “I’ll pick you up at six forty-five.”

  I hadn’t slept very well the night before, so I decided a nap was in order. I had just started drifting when my cell phone rang. Groaning, I glanced over to see who was calling and quickly answered.

  “Hey, I see you’ve been trying to call. What’s going on?” Garrett said by way of greeting.

  I tried to think of a way to ask what he learned at the Ministerial Alliance meeting without being obvious, but nothing was coming to mind.

  Damn!

  I guess I had to get to the point. “Have you spoken with Matt today?” I asked.

  “Nope. Been swamped here working on the murders.” I could hear the frustration in his voice.

  Deciding it was like ripping off a Band-Aid, I blurted, “Well, Matt asked Paige to marry him last night, and they want to know if we want to come over around eight-thirty tonight for a celebratory dessert and drink kind of thing.”

  Silence.

  I knew I was holding my breath but I couldn’t help it. No matter how old you get, asking a guy out never gets easier.

  “Ummm…I have to say, I’m a little shocked,” Garrett chuckled. “Of all the things I was expecting you to say, this wasn’t one of them.”

  I hoped that was a good thing.

  “What time?”

  I expelled by breath and couldn’t stop the grin from spreading over my face. “About eight-thirty. Do you think you will be done by then?”

  I could hear rustling in the background, like he was shuffling papers on his desk. I couldn’t help myself…I wondered what he was working on. What leads did he have still to cover?

  “I think I will be. I know you’re dying to ask, so I’ll tell you I’m still checking alibis right now from my meeting today. Most of the information I’m waiting on won’t come in for a few days, so I should be wrapped up by eight-thirty.”

  Be still my heart! He was checking into the whereabouts of local preachers!

  “Ryli,” I heard the warning before he even said it. “I can hear your wheels turning in your head. That information is between us, you got that?”

  I rolled my eyes. Like I needed him to tell me that. “Got it.”

  “How about I pick you up around eight. Maybe we can have a celebratory drink at your place before we head over.” I heard the implication in his voice and my heart raced. Finally we’d have some alone time.

  Crap!

  I suddenly remembered my date with Aunt Shirley and Janice. I didn’t want to risk Garrett showing up early at my place and me not being there. And I sure the hell didn’t want to tell him what I was really doing.

  “How about I pick you up at eight o’clock, and we have a drink at your house?” I said.

  “Why?” I could sense his suspicion from that one little word.

  “No reason. It’s the twenty-first century for Pete’s sake,” I said, hating how defensive I sounded. “A girl can pick up a guy at his house and have drinks.”

  “Uh huh,” he said, not believing a word I said. “Okay, I’ll let you play this out. I’ll see you at my house at eight.”

  I hung up my cell phone and decided to forgo the nap. I figured if I was going to get Garrett’s attention, it was time to step up my game. I went to my closet and looked through my clothes. It was time to pull out the big guns.

  * * *

  I twirled in front of the mirror, admiring the finished product. I have to say, I felt pretty darn good. I’d decided to go with my burgundy, long-sleeved sweater dress. It had a slim, silver chain belt that gave my waist definition. The dress stopped above my knees, so I opted for my knee-high brown suede boots with no heel. I put a few curls in my hair to give it some volume, and even took time for eye shadow and mascara.

  By the time I finished getting ready, I was about five minutes late picking up Aunt Shirley. I could tell by the way she was tapping her foot outside the Manor that she wasn’t happy.

  “You’re late!” she said as she folded herself into the front seat of the Falcon. She turned to look at me and whistled under her breath. “Why you lookin’ so good? It’s just Janice.”

  I smiled at her compliment. Glad to know someone else thought I was looking good. “I’m meeting up with Garrett after this to go out to Paige’s.”

  Aunt Shirley looked me up and down again, and then buckled her seatbelt. “It’ll do.”

  We rode the rest of the way in silence. I guess we were both thinking about what we planned on asking Janice. I wasn’t sure if Janice could even shed light on the murders, but it was worth a shot.

  Janice lived on Tipton Street. It was located on the outskirts of town, going south, but still in city limits. It was one of the seedier parts to live in Granville. The dilapidated houses were spaced about fifty feet apart, with junk and broken toys littering the front yards. The majority of the houses were all leaning precariously, with large spots of randomly chipped off paint. There were a few that were even missing windows. This was not a street I went down unless I had to. And it’s definitely not a street I went down at night.

  Dusk was settling over the shabby neighborhood as I continued driving. Spotting her place, I pulled into the tiny dirt driveway next to her house. “I hope she has something good to tell us,” I said as we got out of the Falcon and headed toward the house.

  It was a tiny, two-story house with a clapboard porch that had random holes everywhere. Like so many of the others, her house was peeling, the paint chips scattered over the unkempt yard. I could see what looked to be car parts and beer cans strewn around the left side of the house near the carport. Guess her husband, Tom, couldn’t be bothered to throw away the cans.

  Classy.

  I reached over to help Aunt Shirley up the ramshackled wooden steps, but she waved me off. Reaching the door first, I knocked on a door that looked like it couldn’t keep the wind out, much less an intruder.

  I could hear a TV blaring inside the house, so I knew someone was home. I waited a few more minutes then knocked again. “Dammit, Janice, answer the fucking door!” I heard a male voice shout.

  A few seconds later Aunt Shirley and I were greeted with a bright light snapping on over our heads and the door swung open.

  “Hi, guys, come on in,” Janice said leading us into the house.

  The front door opened up into a time warp…also known as the living room. Tom was sitting on a sofa that was straight out of the 70s. It had a dark wooden frame with huge orange and brown flowers covering it. And if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a cottage or something hidden sporadically in the pattern. A dark, heavy oak coffee table with two orange hinged doors sat flanked by two velvet chairs done in a burnt orange. I barely resisted running my hand over the velvet. I’d never seen anything so amazing, yet hideous. The burnt orange glass ceiling light fixture was the piece de resistance.

  “Hey, Tom,” I greeted.

  Tom didn’t look up from the television, but he did grunt as he lifted the beer to his lips.

  “Let’s just go in the kitchen,” Janice said quickly.

  We followed her through a doorway to our right that led into another time warp. I shook my head. Was this for real? Who doesn’t update their house…ever!

  The kitchen was ext
remely dark and dingy. It was done in the same burnt orange and brown colors, but with an addition of gold and avocado green. The cabinets were a dark wood with even darker handles. The linoleum flooring with the different sized rectangles of orange, gold, and cream just about gave me vertigo. The wallpaper was a mixture of huge burnt yellow and orange flowers with green leaves, and the dishwasher and other appliances sitting out were all avocado green.

  Janice motioned for us to take a seat at the avocado green Formica table. Aunt Shirley and I pulled out the matching avocado green metal chairs and sat down. Janice walked over with a large ceramic cookie jar with a mushroom motif on the front. She plunked it down on the table and opened the lid.

  I expected the cookies to be left over from 1970. She reached in and handed us each a chocolate chip cookie.

  “Would you both like some lemonade?” Janice asked.

  Lemonade and chocolate chip cookies? “No thanks, we just stopped by Dairy Queen,” I lied.

  “We were wondering if you could maybe shed some light on Iris’s death for us,” my aunt said getting right to the point.

  Janice didn’t say anything at first. She just sat chewing her cookie, her eyes filling with tears. I honestly didn’t think Janice had anything to do with the murders, and after seeing how distraught she was at the mention of Iris, I was doubly convinced of her innocence.

  “I have no idea who would do this to Iris,” Janice said when she finished her cookie. “I mean, yes, she liked to gossip and all, but she didn’t deserve to die like she did just because of a little gossip. I mean, someone cut out her tongue!”

  Janice started sobbing loudly, tears flowing down her cheeks. Aunt Shirley rummaged through her purse and handed Janice some tissue. Janice dabbed at her cheeks while she continued sobbing. While I felt sorry for her, I really didn’t have time for theatrics. I needed answers, and then I needed to get back in time for my date with Garrett.

  “Do you know what it is Iris had on Dr. Garver?” I asked, hoping to distract her so she’d stop crying.

  Janice dabbed one more time at her cheeks before answering. “I don’t know everything. Iris was real good about keeping the really juicy parts to herself—for leverage, ya know?”

  I nodded my head, hoping to encourage her to continue.

  “Sometimes she’d give specifics. Like last week Patty Carter came in yelling about how she’d just heard Dr. Garver was cutting funding next year to the basketball teams to give more money to the football team so they could get a Gator. Now, whether or not it’s true, Patty Carter believed it. And according to Iris, she was steaming mad. Patty’s nephew, Michael, is on the basketball team, and she said it would be over her dead body before his sport was cut funding.”

  Patty Carter. Hadn’t she been in Iris’s salon the day after Dr. Garver’s murder? But why kill Iris? Was she afraid Iris may tell people what she’d said? Obviously others knew, so killing her would be unnecessary.

  Still, it was something to go on.

  “Then there was the time Dr. Garver refused to let the Booster Club do their annual fundraiser. Kim Baker was the president, and I actually witnessed that meltdown in the salon.” Janice blew her nose on a wadded up tissue. “She was so mad, she was actually shaking.” She laughed and hiccupped at the same time.

  Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought. Something told me we could be here all night listening to the number of grievances Iris knew about when it came to Dr. Garver.

  * * *

  “What do you think? Should we question Patty and Kim?” I asked Aunt Shirley on our drive back to the retirement home.

  “I guess it can’t hurt. Thing is, I think we can find a ton of stories about people hating Dr. Garver, but I’m not sure how they fit with killing Iris. Seems to me the killer should have just kept their mouth shut if the motive for killing Iris was to shut her up.”

  I nodded my head in agreement. I’d thought the same thing.

  I pulled up under the awning to let Aunt Shirley out. “Make sure you put that dress to good use tonight. I don’t want you moping about the next few days…not when we have a murder to solve.”

  I was glad the car was dark enough to hide my blush. Or I thought it was until Aunt Shirley started laughing. “Ain’t no shame in a woman wanting to remember she’s a woman.”

  As I peeled out of the circle drive I could still hear Aunt Shirley cackling.

  Chapter 9

  Garrett lives five miles from town out in the country. His gravel and dirt driveway entrance is secluded by large trees and tall grass, which always makes it difficult to find. I’ve only been out here twice, and both times were with Matt.

  The house itself sits on seven acres, with one acre being a pond behind the house. Matt said the first thing Garrett did when he bought the house a year ago was build a two-car garage Morton building to the left side of his brick and vinyl house. The façade of the Morton building was made to match his house.

  I’m not sure how to describe the layout of the house, except to say it’s a ranch-style home, but there is a second floor over half the house where the loft is. The landscape was fairly new. The first time I was out here, there was just a lot of dirt and gravel. Now there was a small area of grass surrounding the house, with two curved rock gardens running the length of the house, separated by the walkway. The walkway was basically round cobblestone markers placed on top of the grass, but close enough together you didn’t feel like you had to leap to hit the next marker.

  I was on time, straight up eight o’clock. Grabbing my purse I got out of the Falcon, made sure there were no wrinkles in my sweater dress, and carefully made my way to the large mahogany door with beveled glass and sidelights. I was about to knock on the door when Garrett beat me to the punch.

  And a punch is exactly how to describe what I felt when he opened the imposing door. He had on dark, loose-fitting jeans with a black, long-sleeved fitted t-shirt. He stepped back to let me in then quietly closed the door behind me. I was suddenly very nervous.

  The house opens up to hardwood floors throughout the whole house. The doorway to my left is a large laundry room complete with white floor-to-ceiling shelving on one wall, washing basin, and a red front-loader washer and dryer.

  To my right is a half wall that separates the entrance of the house to the dining room and kitchen area. He has a nice-sized kitchen with huge stainless steel appliances, just like Matt and Dr. Garver. I’m not sure what it is about stainless steel that people like. I find it tedious cleaning off all the fingerprints.

  I knew from past visits that the narrow hallway that passed in front of the open kitchen led to a bathroom at the end of the hall.

  I felt Garrett guiding me directly ahead, through the extra-wide doorframe, and into the main living area of the house. There was a small step down into the living room, which I took very carefully. I’d hate to fall and embarrass myself. I was suddenly glad I went with flats instead of heels.

  The enormous living room had panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows built into the back and right side walls. You could see the beautiful view of the one-acre pond and woods behind the house. The wall to my left housed a stone fireplace with a large wood beam as the mantle. The exposed beam ceiling and curved wooden staircase almost directly behind me that led up to the loft and bathroom gave this part of the house a log-cabin feel.

  The lighting in the room was soft and romantic. From one of the exposed beams in the center of the room Garrett had a suspended wagon wheel with six dimly lit mason jars hanging from the wheel. There were a couple more floor lamps throughout the large living room, but tonight they were not lit.

  Garrett led me to the plush green sofa, love seat, and recliner area grouped in the center of the room, facing the fireplace. I walked around the large oak coffee table and perched carefully on the edge of the sofa. No way was I going to lean back and worry about wrestling my body out of the over-stuffed couch. Which is exactly what would happen if I leaned back.

  “I’
ll get you a glass of wine,” he said as he turned and walked back into the kitchen. I couldn’t help myself, I watched his jean-clad butt walk away from me.

  I wasn’t sure what to do, so I got up and walked toward the back wall of windows. It was dark outside, so I couldn’t see the pond, but the coolness of the glass windows helped to calm me down.

  “Here.”

  I turned and took the glass from Garrett. I noticed he didn’t have anything to drink. “Aren’t you going to have a glass?” I asked, taking a long drink to calm my nerves.

  “I’m on call tonight…hoping to hear back on a question I have floating out there,” he said cryptically.

  “What question?” I couldn’t help myself.

  He smiled at me, took the glass from my hand, and set it down on a nearby end table. He walked slowly back to me, his eyes never leaving mine. The spit dried up in my mouth.

  I’m not sure why, but I took a step backward. My butt hit the cool glass of the window. I had nowhere to run. I swear I saw Garrett’s pupils dilate.

  One of his hands grabbed my waist and pulled me to him, while the other slid through my hair to cup the back of my head. The pressure of his mouth on mine was soft at first, but after a few second his mouth grew harder.

  And that wasn’t the only thing that grew harder.

  He backed me up against the window, his tongue parting my lips. I had no choice but to hang on to his shoulders. I’m not sure who moaned first, but the next thing I know I have my hips grinding against him and my hands running through the back of his close-cropped hair.

  I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, kissing and touching wherever we could. Between my breasts tingling and stomach fluttering, I felt like I could explode at any minute.

  Garrett pulled away from me, panting slightly. He didn’t say anything, just stared at me as he ran his shaking hands through his hair. I have to admit, I was still so turned on, I couldn’t even move without fear of convulsing.

  “I’m thinking we should head out to Paige’s before things get so far out of control there will be no turning back,” he said.