by Jeff Shelby
“Well, maybe Elena’s information will shed some new light on the situation,” Gunnar said.
I nodded, but I wasn’t feeling particularly hopeful.
He reached for the last muffin on the plate and held it out to me. I shook my head.
“What time are you supposed to meet her?”
“Noon,” I said.
He glanced at the watch strapped to his wrist.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Almost ten-thirty.”
I sighed. “I guess I should start getting ready.” I dropped the afghan from my shoulders and the chill in the air made me instantly shiver.
“Wait.”
I stayed in my chair and looked at Gunnar.
“I had a nice night with you,” he said simply.
His stare was so intense, it was hard to look him in the eye. But I forced myself to. “I did, too.”
“I’d like more nights like that,” he said. “A lot more.”
I looked at my hands. They were folded in my lap, my fingers twisted together. “Me, too.”
Silence filled the air, but it wasn’t awkward, and it wasn’t charged. It was just…there, a comfortable, companionable silence.
“I need a shower,” I said.
“Me, too.”
A thought flashed through my mind and I tamped it down. And then I thought better of it and allowed it back in. I was done with overthinking things, done with worrying about regrets. Life was short. I wasn’t getting any younger. And I needed to do the things I wanted to do.
I smiled. “Wanna know the best thing about the master bathroom?”
He waited.
“It was remodeled at some point. And the shower is big enough for two.”
TWENTY FIVE
I was still walking on cloud nine when I stepped through the doors of the Wicked Wich.
It had been a few weeks since I’d come for lunch, but it looked exactly the same. Dim lighting, the smell of grease and burgers heavily scenting the air. Dawn was behind the bar, ringing up a customer, and Mikey was visible at the grill, expertly flipping patties with one hand and shaking the fry basket with the other.
I scanned the booths and tables for my lunch date. She was easy to find. Tucked in a corner, her nose buried in a menu.
I nodded to Dawn, letting her know I didn’t need to be seated, and joined Elena at her table. She was sitting in Len Konrath’s booth, and the memories from earlier in the year came back full-force.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Elena said as I slid on to the bench seat across from her. She handed me the menu.
I waved it aside. “I don’t need it, thanks.”
“You’re not eating?”
I chuckled. “No, I’m eating. I usually get the special burger. Mikey makes some good stuff back there.”
Elena wrinkled her nose. “I’m a vegetarian.”
Dawn appeared then, a pad of paper in one hand and a pencil in the other. Her strawberry blonde hair was clipped back with barrettes, and she wore a tight gray t-shirt emblazoned with the Wicked Wich logo.
“What’ll it be?” she asked.
So much for pleasantries. But with Dawn, none were to be expected.
I ordered the special advertised on the chalkboard above the bar, a burger topped with an artichoke and jalapeno spread. Elena ordered a salad and a bowl of butternut squash soup.
Once Dawn had gathered up the menus, I focused on Elena.
“So, you have some new information about the missing money?”
She started to speak but a guy I didn’t know, a new busboy, by the looks of it, swung by and dropped off a couple of waters. I thanked him and then looked expectantly at Elena.
She reached for one of the straws and began to unwrap it. “That was really nice of you, writing that check to cover the cost of the festival.”
I swallowed as I remembered the huge amount I’d written out to the Latney Ladies Society. “I was happy to help.” I hoped I sounded sincere. “So,” I said, ready to change the subject and not think about my own money. It would tie my stomach in knots, wondering if I would ever see it again. “You have some information about the bank account?”
“I’m not really sure,” she said.
I grabbed my own straw and pounded it against the table, forcing it to break through the wrapper. I dropped it in the glass and took a sip. “What did you find out?”
Elena was still picking at the paper. “Well, I don’t actually know that I found out anything.”
I pressed my lips together to contain my exasperated sigh.
She looked at me nervously. “I just…I saw something that looked a little…odd.”
I nodded in encouragement. “And? What was it?”
“Well, I was out running some errands yesterday afternoon. Just simple things. I needed some groceries from Toby’s, and I stopped in at the beauty salon for some special conditioner. My ends are so dry now that the humidity is gone, you know? They have this great stuff they sell there, if you need some.”
I glanced sideways at my hair. My ends looked fine to me.
“Anyway,” she said, finally finishing the process of unwrapping her straw, “I decided to treat myself to an ice cream. I don’t like eating ice cream in winter, what with it being so cold and all, and the shop in town has some special fall flavors. Pumpkin and a great apple pie ice cream. So I got a couple of scoops—sugar cone, of course—and decided to sit outside and eat it.”
I sucked on my straw, mostly so I wouldn’t blurt out something rude. Why on earth was she telling me all of this?
“Anyway, the ice cream shop is right next to Sophia’s boutique and since I was sitting outside, I happened to notice a truck parked out back.”
The delivery truck Sophia had told me about. The one that had insisted on a C.O.D. payment.
“She was out there for a while with the truck driver, and she looked upset.”
Her story was basically corroborating what I’d learned from Sophia. It was nice to know that, even if I had my doubts about other things she’d told me, at least Sophia had apparently been telling the truth about the delivery yesterday.
“I wasn’t purposely watching her,” Elena said. She took a sip of water. “But it was pretty obvious that Sophia was upset. She talked to the driver for a few minutes and then she disappeared back into the store.” Her face puckered into a frown. “And…I didn’t know what was wrong, but I thought I should probably go and find out. You know, since we’re part of the ladies society and everything. Our motto and all.”
“Your motto?”
“I guess it’s more of our creed.” She shrugged, clearly not sure how to define it. “’Ladies first.’”
I repeated it. “Ladies First?”
She nodded. “We put each other first. Our loyalty is to each other and to the society. Above all others.”
I let that sink in. That seemed like a pretty hefty price to pay for membership into a charitable organization.
“So I finished my cone—well, almost. Two scoops is a lot. And I went to the back door of the store. The driver was still parked outside, and he was standing there smoking a cigarette. He didn’t look terribly happy.”
I could imagine he wouldn’t be. He wasn’t getting the payment he needed, and he’d have to drive back all the goods Sophia had ordered.
“Sophia came back outside and marched over to the driver. I stayed where I was and watched her.”
There was a pregnant pause and I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I said, “And…?”
She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “She handed him cash. Hundred-dollar bills. I watched her as she counted them out. It was at least a thousand dollars.”
“She paid cash for the delivery?”
Elena nodded again.
I mulled this over.
Apparently, I didn’t mull it over fast enough.
“Isn’t that a little odd?” Elena asked me. “Paying for a shipment with cash?”
r /> It was definitely a little unusual, but I thought something else was odd, too.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
Elena quickly averted her gaze. Her fingers found the discarded paper wrapper and she picked it up and rolled it between her fingers. “I just thought…I thought you might be able to make sense of it.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Because you’re an investigator.”
I didn’t even bother trying to correct her. “You think the money she paid to the driver was the missing money?”
Elena frowned. “I don’t know. I just know it was a strange thing to see.”
“I thought your loyalty was to the women in the society. Ladies first, right?”
Her cheeks colored. “I know, and that’s the reason I haven’t told Savannah or Vivian, or any of the other ladies. I truly don’t think Sophia would steal the money, but the fact of the matter is that it’s gone. And even though my loyalty to the women in the group is strong, my loyalty to the society itself is stronger. I don’t want it to go away.” She paused for a moment. “I'm telling you because not only are you an investigator, but you don't have a vested interest here. You're impartial. At least, I think you are. I hope you are.”
I raised my eyebrows. I was impressed. Even though she was a quiet, timid little thing, Elena Klersy was taking a stand.
I didn’t know if what she’d seen behind Sophia’s boutique was tied to the missing money, but I did know that it had taken a lot of courage to tell me about it.
And I knew one more thing, too.
I was going to find out whatever I could about the cash that had exchanged hands with the truck driver.
TWENTY SIX
My stomach was growling when I walked through the door of Sophia’s boutique.
I’d left Elena shortly after she finished telling me about the cash, and told her to let Dawn know I’d swing by to grab my burger later. I didn’t want to waste my time eating when I had questions for Sophia.
Questions only she could answer.
The store was empty. The candle on the cash wrap counter flickered, and music piped out of hidden speakers, a crooning ballad from the 50s that sounded vaguely familiar.
Sophia appeared from behind a whitewashed armoire, Tallulah tucked under her arm. She was dressed in a simple burgundy dress, with brown, knee-high leather boots. Her hair hung loose, a blonde waterfall that cascaded past her shoulders.
“Rainy.” She looked startled to see me, maybe even a little guilty. “What brings you in here? Looking for some holiday decorations?”
I decided not to beat around the bush. “I was having lunch with Elena.”
“Elena?” she echoed. “From the ladies society?”
I nodded. “She mentioned she saw you outside yesterday. With the delivery driver.”
Sophia busied herself with the dog wrapped in her arms. She rubbed her ears and planted a kiss on her head. “Yes. That was a disaster, wasn’t it?”
“Well, apparently it wasn’t as big of a disaster as you led me to believe.”
She glanced at me in surprise.
“Since you were able to pay him, after all.” I paused. “With cash.”
Sophia blinked a couple of times. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I crossed my arms and fixed her with a steely glare. “Where did the cash come from, Sophia? You said you didn’t have the money to pay for the shipment.”
“I didn’t.”
“So money just magically appeared?” I gave her a dubious look.
“Of course not.”
“Where did it come from, then?”
Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Because money went missing from a charity you’re the treasurer of. And you told me yesterday you were short on money. And then someone sees you paying cash for a shipment you told me you didn’t have the money to cover. I might be connecting the dots wrong, but it sure doesn’t feel that way.”
Tears sprang to her eyes and she clutched the dog so tight, she whimpered. “You think I stole the money?”
“I think you need to explain where the cash came from.”
“I knew everyone thought I was guilty,” she wailed, the tears running freely now. “Well, the only thing I’m guilty of is using my own money to pay for that shipment!”
“Your own money?”
Tearfully, she nodded.
“But I thought—”
“Walter wouldn’t let me?” she finished. Her tone was caustic, and her expression darkened.
I tried to remember her exact words from the phone call yesterday, when I’d suggested she float herself a personal loan. She’d just said he’d never let her hear the end of it.
“Walter does not control my life,” she announced. Her eyes blazed with anger. “Not at this store, and not at home.”
I didn’t answer her. Honestly, I was a little afraid to. She was angrier than I’d ever seen her, like some warrior princess come to life, her chest heaving, her mouth set in a thin, flat line.
She must have sensed my hesitation. “What?” she snapped. “You don’t believe me?”
I opened my mouth to respond but she wasn’t finished.
“You know what?” she said, her voice laced with venom. “There is something I’m actually guilty of. You wanna know what that is?”
I didn’t. I really didn’t.
I practically cringed as I waited for her to unload.
She folded her arms and glared at me. “I’m guilty of not wanting kids.”
TWENTY SEVEN
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I’d waited a couple of minutes for Sophia to calm down before asking her.
Still, the look she shot my direction made me wince.
“Talk about what? How I’m still not the person responsible for stealing the money from the bank account?”
“No,” I said. “Do you want to talk about Walter?”
I didn’t. I didn’t want to know anything about her personal life. In fact, I was pretty sure I already knew more than anyone not related to her should know. But Sophia looked like she could use someone to talk to. And I still had questions about the payment she’d made to the delivery driver.
We had to start somewhere if I wanted my questions answered.
“Fine,” she said. She glanced at the entrance to the store and then walked over to it and flipped the sign on the door to “Closed.” She turned the lock. “I’d rather do this in private. No interruptions.”
There were a pair of white rocking chairs with bright orange cushions tucked into the far right corner of the store and she motioned for me to take a seat.
“But first, we talk about the money,” she said as she settled Tallulah on her lap.
I started to protest but she held up her hand.
“No, I’m going to tell you. I want the suspicion surrounding me gone, once and for all.” She took a deep breath. “I used my own money to pay for the shipment. I have a safe under the register, where I put the cash and checks I receive from sales if I don’t have time to get to the bank. It would be nice to drop them daily, but sometimes my days get away from me. So I like to keep it in a safe place. But I have a personal stash of money in there, too.”
I frowned. “Why?”
She shrugged. “Because I like pretty things, and I often end up buying merchandise when it comes in the store.”
“Couldn’t you just write a check or pay with a credit card?”
“Yes,” she admitted. She gave me a sheepish smile. “But then I would just buy everything in sight. Giving myself a cash allowance keeps me on a budget. When the cash is gone, I don’t buy anymore. It’s as simple as that.”
I thought about this. It wasn’t the way I operated, but I could see how it might be an effective way to control spending. Rita, one of my friends back in Arlington, always carried an envelope of cash for everything she bought. I was pretty sure it was part of some financial planni
ng guru’s rules, but I’d never asked.
“So, anyway, it’s nearing the end of the month, and I’d gone to the bank last week, right before we left for Miami, to pull out November’s cash.”
“What’s your monthly budget?”
“A thousand dollars.”
I gulped. A thousand dollars for knickknacks. It was hard to fathom.
“So that was the money I used to pay the driver,” she said flatly. “Not the money people think I stole from the society.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. It was a plausible explanation. I still wasn’t completely convinced of her innocence, but it definitely answered the question of why Elena had seen her pay the delivery driver in cash.
“And, now, Walter,” she said. Her voice hardened a little. “I don’t even know where to start.”
I held up my hand. “You don’t have to.”
Honestly, I was fine with not hearing another word. After all, she’d just finished answering the questions I’d had. And I was pretty sure I knew where the rest of our conversation was going to lead.
“Walter tried to seduce me last night.”
I froze.
“He slipped something into my drink.”
Guilt niggled at me. I should have told her what I’d seen in those boxes. Why had I been such a coward about it? I’d called her from the driveway yesterday, intent on telling her, and then she’d launched into the story about the driver and the shipment and I’d just let it go. Didn’t say a word.
I was a horrible excuse for a friend.
If I was her friend.
“I know he wants a family, but now just isn’t the right time,” she said, shaking her head. “And he knew I was ovulating—”
“What?”
“Ovulating,” she repeated. “You know, when—”
“I know,” I said quickly. “I’m just surprised he knew.”
“Well, it’s been 12 days since my last...you know. We’re sort of in the window.”
I just nodded. I’d never given much thought to ovulation and tracking. Getting pregnant with my two kids just…happened.