by Misty Simon
“I can’t either. Janice never struck me as the greedy type.” He ran his fingers through his already mussed hair and looked a little more adorable than usual. Put together Ben was nice. But Ben slightly disheveled was a whole other sexy animal.
And this line of thinking was definitely not helping our investigation. Plus, sexy or not, those pictures put me off from getting naked with even a slightly disheveled Ben. No way did I want to go to bed with someone who had spent the last ten minutes staring at that blonde’s perfect, little, cellulite-less body. If he thought he was getting on to mine after that, which was seriously a far distance from perfect, little, or cellulite-less for that matter, he was so wrong. Sigh.
Ben had the envelope resealed and ready to take back to the bed and breakfast before dawn came. I looked at the clock on his mantel of pictures and winced at the time. “It’s after midnight. I should probably go; I have to work tomorrow. Well, today, actually.” I stood up from the surprisingly comfortable and yet still ugly-as-sin couch, and went to the piecrust table to pick up my keys from the wooden bowl. “You’re going to take those back tonight, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll get them back in, and we’ll wait to hear what the police have to say tomorrow before officially crossing this guy off our list. Pictures or no pictures, there is still something wrong about the way he keeps demanding files that aren’t his. But I did tell Dennis down at the station to look into the guy’s alibi and whereabouts for the last week or so. Hopefully, Dennis will want to share with yours truly what information he finds, when he gets done, since I put him on the lead.”
“Well, let me know what you find out, if anything. I feel like so much time has passed since her death and we’re not getting anywhere. It’s frustrating.”
“I feel the same way, Ivy. We’re going to have to be a little patient and let the police do their thing while we do ours.”
This time there was no lascivious look in his eyes and I knew he was being totally sincere. I thought about the fact that Ben had a whole year to get to know Janice and see her around town. He had a lot more invested in this than I did. After all, I knew her only one evening.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” I grabbed my discarded windbreaker and put it on in anticipation of the cold night air outside.
Ben stood from his position on the comfy-looking chair and walked over to me. The way he moved reminded me of a cat on the hunt. Stealthy and sleek, animal in his grace. Okay, now I was getting a little hokey and a lot turned on. Again.
Think of the blonde, think of the blonde, I reminded myself, and the urge to throw Ben on the convenient floor he’d mentioned earlier subsided a little. But before I could blink, he was next to me and his hands were tangled in my hair. His mouth swooped down on mine and I felt branded, owned, possessed. Those soft lips caressed mine as he massaged my scalp and made a low growl in his throat.
I thought I purred myself and wondered what kind of wild animal jungle sex I was missing tonight by going home to my cold, lonely bed. But Ben had things to do tonight, the least of which was to put the blackmail envelope back in Mr. Hedlund’s room before the man came back from his hopefully very unpleasant night in jail.
Ben licked the seam of my lips and all other thoughts fled.
After we both came up for air, I walked my shaky legs out to my Santa Fe and Ben stayed in the open doorway until I had started the car and driven off. I watched him in my rearview mirror until I almost couldn’t see him anymore and realized I was no longer on the pavement part of the road.
Back at the old homestead, and still shaky from my near collision experience with the drainage ditch on the side of the road, I wrapped up in a terrycloth robe and made myself some hot chocolate to chase away the cold.
I hoped Ben was safely back at his house and kicked myself for not asking him to call when he finished returning the goods. Even though Hedlund may not have been responsible for Janice’s death, it didn’t mean he wasn’t culpable for something.
Looking at the clock, I realized it was after one a.m. and I’d better get into bed if I wanted to retain even half of my normal capacity for dealing with customers. I downed the hot chocolate and trundled myself off to that lonely, cold bed I’d thought of earlier and tried to snuggle down under the warmth of the covers.
Weird dreams of knights in tarnished armor and flappers dancing with caped men intruded into the few hours of sleep I got. So I was not a happy camper the next morning when Mr. Jorgensen and his wife came in about the cape with the dried blood, but I still tried to be nice. They were customers, after all, and even if he was innocent until I could prove him guilty (now that I’d essentially lost my prime suspect), she could still be a client, living the high life, while he was behind bars.
“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jorgensen. How are you today?”
Perhaps I didn’t pull the polite thing off very well, because she squinted her little eyes at him and he gave me a very odd look before answering. “We’re fine, Ivy. Thanks for asking. I, uh, wanted to come in this morning because of the cape I dropped off last week.”
Ah-ha! So he was going to try to get the cape back. He’d realized what incriminating evidence it had on it and now he needed to take it for a cleaning before he brought it back. Guilty, guilty man. My inner voice shook its head at the duplicity of people.
Mr. Jorgensen cleared his throat and I waited for the words to come out of his mouth. Words that would condemn him for the bad person he was. I was just sorry it had to be done in front of his wife.
“I, ah, wanted to see if the cape ended up with some blood on it and, if it did, say I was sorry. I thought I turned it in clean, until Doris went to wash my good white shirt I wore that night and saw the blood on it. I’d had a bloody nose before all the commotion—allergies—and thought I’d caught it all with the tissue, and kept it off your cape. But Doris showed me the stain, so I came down here to apologize, if necessary, and pay you that extra fee you charge for damaged articles.”
A likely story, but then when I thought about it, it actually was a likely story. Why would this guy offer to pay for the cleaning fee and not even try to deny the blood? If I were a murderer I would try to get it back, then clean it myself or something. Besides, wouldn’t Doris have questioned the stain?
“He has medicine to take for them darned allergies, but he never will. Too much of a guy, I guess,” Doris said, seeming to pull the thought right out of my head. What was it with the people in this town and mind reading? “Anyway, we’re real sorry about the whole thing, and I’m ashamed I didn’t see it before we brought the costume in. I have this laundry potion, would have taken the whole thing out. Could have shared it with you instead of you having to send the cape out to the dry cleaners. I feel awful.”
The woman was concerned about the dry cleaning bill and wanted to share a potion with me? Ah, small towns, gotta love ’em. Right?
Just then the phone rang, and since I’d told Kitty to take the day off, I was the only one here. “If the two of you will excuse me for a quick moment, I’ll be right back and we can settle your account. Thanks for coming in, and I appreciate your time. I’ll be right back.”
I dove for the ringing phone, my head whirling with questions. I’d fumbled two suspects in a twenty-four-hour period. Or had I? Couldn’t Doris be covering up for her husband? Or maybe she had fallen for the bloody-nose thing. Either way, I’d still wait to hear back from the police before I totally crossed him off my list, too.
I pushed the On button for the phone and was rewarded with a squawk and a woman’s voice saying, “Please hold for the next available officer,” which I took for a serious command to go find a spot where no one could hear me as I explained my idiocy. Oooo-kay. I ducked into the room between the main shop and the boudoir and hoped no one would come in.
Thirty seconds later, the deep voice of Detective Jameson came on the line. “Ms. Morris, is that you?”
“Yes, sir, it’s me. And in fact, I have the customer we spoke about
last week waiting in my front room. Is this about the cloak? Should I detain him?” Oh, God, had I jumped to conclusions and this call was because they’d caught Ben sneaking out of the cabin? Had he ratted me out and said I was there, too? Or had they found my fingerprints and were making sure I was here? That way when they came and arrested me, they didn’t have to look for me?
All of a sudden I was very nervous as the detective cleared his throat. “Ma’am, you’re not going to want to detain anyone. That would be our job.” Oh, I was right, they were coming to get me. “The blood on the cape was from the wearer. We’re assuming he nicked himself shaving or had a nosebleed or something. The hospital checked the blood against his donor card.”
I guessed they weren’t coming to cart me off to jail after all. “Detective, I appreciate the call and need to tell you the man just came in this morning to tell me it was a bloody nose that left the stain. I’m sorry for the trouble you went through.” I really didn’t want to lose a client over my active imagination. “Uh, is that okay instead of you talking to him? I really don’t want to come across as some tale-teller, and since nothing was what I thought, I’d rather not lose a customer over it.” Silence greeted me from the other end of the telephone. So I added, “Please.”
A brief conversation was held on the other side of the phone line before the detective came back on. “All right, little lady.” Perhaps he didn’t remember meeting me. “That’s fine for this time, but maybe next time you’ll want to keep your nose out of things like this. Or ask your customers questions about stains before running to the police. Have a good day.”
Then he hung up and I sat on the brocade couch, dazed. What the hell kind of police force did we have here if they didn’t want to hear about possible leads from the average citizen? And had I just been totally dismissed as a feather-brained “little lady” because I brought something to them that didn’t pan out? Well, now I was really going to find out who did this to Janice before they did. I’d show them “little lady.”
I went back out to the main counter and dealt with Mr. and Mrs. Jorgensen. They went home happy and my register was a little bit fuller.
I wanted to check on Ben this morning and make sure everything had turned out okay. We also needed to put our heads together and come up with another suspect. I dialed the number Ben had given me and waited for him to pick up before I could breathe a real sigh of relief. Now for a new suspect. Yep, two suspects down. Who else could I wrongfully accuse?
Chapter Twenty-One
The sigh I’d been holding in came out as a whoosh when Ben finally answered on the fifth ring. After his “Hello,” the only thing I could say was, “What the hell took you so long to answer? Jeez, I nearly ran over to the jail to see if you were there sharing space with that client guy.”
He had the gall to laugh.
“I wouldn’t have visited you, either,” I said, snippy now.
“Oh, sweetheart. You wouldn’t even have come for my conjugal visits?” His voice transmitted a huge smile, and I wished he were here right now so I could kick his perfect ass.
“You know, a little less cocky would look great on you.” Obviously I was getting more comfortable with this whole new flirty, sharp side of myself. I didn’t even blanch when the words came out of my mouth.
“You wouldn’t want me to give up any of my ‘cocky,’ ” he said in a sly voice that made me realize how that could have been, and obviously was, interpreted. Great. Thank God he wasn’t here to see the cursed blush. So much for trying to match wits with Ben the Fallen.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, to cover up my embarrassment, and then went on to tell him about the call from the police and that we’d lost another suspect.
And Ben had news of his own. “Dennis, the policeman I was telling you about, called me just now. In fact that’s who I was getting off the phone with when you called. He said Hedlund has a rock-solid alibi with his wife, who, by the way, is a tall, round, brunette. They were at a Harvest Party of their own and about a hundred people can vouch for seeing him throughout the evening, all the way to midnight. So he’s not our guy either. And here’s a new twist to the whole convoluted thing. I know you saw the stab wound on Janice, but it turns out from toxicology reports she was also poisoned. Any idea what to do next?”
I didn’t have anything, but my plumber came in at that moment and I told Ben I’d have to call him back. “Hey, Charlie. In to finish up my fountain? It looks fabulous. I really appreciate you fitting this in.” The fountain I’d ordered for the shop a little over a week ago was nearly done, and I was ecstatic.
“Yep, I should have this done tomorrow at the latest. Is everything looking good so far? No problems with customers or anything?”
“Actually everything is going great.” I plastered a smile on and tried not to think about the fact that a lingerie thief and a murderer were still in our midst.
“Good. It looks like things are slow right now for you, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be working on the water line today. Ignore me and I’ll get to work.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be in the storeroom if you need me.” It was time to take another inventory of the remaining lingerie. I had replenished the plus-sized stuff, but business back there had been good lately, and it looked like I should order more of everything again.
Once inside the storeroom, I took a stool and sat myself down, intent on doing my least favorite part of this new business. As I looked over what I had and marked down what to order, my thoughts were on Janice, stabbed and poisoned. Who needed to be that thorough? I didn’t know, and all my leads were false so far.
Twenty minutes later, I was thirsty. I went into the front room to offer Charlie something from the fridge while I was there. He was leaning over the oval shape of the basin of the wall fountain. I opened my mouth to see if he wanted a soda out of the back when I realized he was showing the classic plumber’s crack, and that crack was only slightly covered by pink lace. Oh. My. Word.
Pink lace. Pink lace? Why was there pink lace covering Charlie’s plumber’s crack? And what else, other than women’s underwear, was made of pink lace and used under jeans? As soon as the thought ran through my mind, another stumbled along on its heels. Pink lace, women’s underwear, women’s lingerie, my missing women’s lingerie. Oh. My. Word.
After all my wondering and speculating, could my underwear thief have been under my nose and in my shop, taking my money in a paycheck for his plumbing skills, while wearing my missing lingerie?
It was certainly a possibility. A possibility that made me sick to my stomach and pissed me off something terrible. But I’d already falsely accused two people of murder, so I wanted to be very careful this time. I tried to be nonchalant as I walked over by the newly installed fountain. The lingerie we carried had a distinctive tag and from experience I knew the tag could be seen at the top in the back of the panties. I made appreciative noises and tried hard to keep my face impassive as I told Charlie I was looking at his handiwork, instead of his butt crack.
Inside I was boiling like a blocked volcano. How dare he? Was he also wearing a bra? I looked at his snug T-shirt and saw no telltale signs of straps. Maybe he wore the bras at night at home. Ew!
He was about the right size for women’s plus sizes. I’d estimate him at about a size sixteen, like his girlfriend, Jackie, my problem customer who wanted to wear a size two teddy. Maybe he was giving her the bras and keeping the underwear for himself. Ew! Again.
In fact, an episode with Jackie sprang to mind from last week. She’d come strolling into The Masked Shoppe and was showing off her new bra to Kitty. And Kitty, who happened to be Charlie’s mom, was oohing and ahhing about the cut and style.
It seemed weird to me at the time because the only other place who sold bras big enough for Jackie was the discount thrift store around the corner. I was damn sure she wouldn’t be caught dead shopping there, so my theory was making more sense.
I walked behind Charlie and tried to get a better look for the
elusive tag but couldn’t. Especially when he stood to show me some of the finer points of the way the fountain worked. The whole time he looked me right in the eye and smiled at my comments, chatting easily with me. Maybe I was wrong. I knew one way I could possibly find out. A quick phone call to Ben and my plan was in action.
Breaking and entering—Take Two.
But not so much breaking was going to be done, because the lights were ablaze in the house. Ben and I met around the corner from Charlie’s house, where he actually still lived with his mom. So I guess that made it Kitty’s house, but that wasn’t making it any easier for me to think about breaking in.
I’d moved into Ben’s vehicle after we saw all the lights in the house, and now we were playing the waiting game. “So, how was your day?” I said to break the silence.
“Good, and yours?”
I was about to answer when I realized he sounded distracted. I looked over toward the house and saw Charlie come out with the garbage cans. He looked like he was trying to move stealthily but wasn’t quite pulling it off. He kept nervously turning his head left and right and was kind of up on his tiptoes. He looked funny, but there was nothing funny about this situation.
After depositing the cans on the edge of the curb, he raced back into the house, and we heard the door slam.
“I think it’s too risky to go up and look in his trash right now,” Ben said, turning toward me. “What about you, partner?”
I felt a warm glow. We were partners, and I thought he’d finally accepted me as part of this motley team now that I’d proven myself by doing my little bit of sneaky recon this afternoon.
“Sounds good. You want to grab some coffee and come back later, after all the lights are out? Hopefully that will mean Charlie and Kitty are in their beds. Maybe we’ll only have to go as far as the trash to get our evidence. I really don’t want to come back and try another time, and there is no way I’m breaking into Kitty’s house while she’s there.”
