She slammed on the brakes, knowing the problem.
After jumping out and rushing to the rear tires where the terrible sound had come from, she saw that her back left tire was flat.
Circling the rear, she discovered the right tire was also flat, and when she kneeled to closely inspect the rubber, she saw it had been slashed.
Popping up to her feet, she gasped.
The woman who had argued with Clifford and then slashed his tires, the woman who had donated to the mayor’s office, who Dean and Jessica were unwilling to name, had to be Meredith Joste.
Quickly, she sent a call through to Scott, and the second he picked up, she blurted out, “You’re not going to believe this.”
Chapter Seven
Scott stared down at the flattened tire.
“It was Meredith,” said Kate with conviction. “I know it was Meredith.”
“You know?”
“It had to have been.”
“Why would she slash your tires?” he challenged in a way that told her he had undergone a day as rough as hers.
She tried not to take it personally.
“She flipped out on me earlier, just before she left the house, all because I wanted to fix a cracked tile on her patio.”
Scott blinked then raised his brow, as if she had yet to make her point.
“Between the time I parked to the time I realized the tires were slashed, no one else was around. It was only an hour.”
“But you were in the house. Anyone could’ve come by.”
“To slash my tires? Who would want to do such a thing? Everyone likes me.”
His silence spoke volumes.
“I’m well liked,” she stammered. “Look, I did some asking around at the construction site, spoke with a contractor who is working on the amusement park. He knew Clifford, and he told me he got into a fight with a woman—”
“A fight?”
“An argument. And then he found his tires had been slashed. The rear ones, just like mine.”
“Did he tell you it was Meredith Joste?”
She didn’t want to have to say no.
“So all we really have here is a connection that the person who slashed Clifford’s tires, who may or may not have killed him, also slashed yours.”
“I think we have a little more than that,” she countered.
“Like what?”
“Like, why is Meredith in a sudden rush to leave Rock Ridge? If you ask me, she’s skipping town because she just killed someone.”
“Kate, this isn’t even circumstantial. It’s gossip, and the Kate I know and love wouldn’t get sucked into it.”
“Yeah, well, that was before someone ruined my tires,” she said, shaking her head at the sight and then checking her watch. “Where is triple-A?”
“They’ll be here.” After considering her far-fetched point for a moment, he asked, “What makes you think Meredith and Clifford even knew each other?”
“I don’t know. But I’ll find out.”
He smirked, but it wasn’t a good thing, as he said, “I’m sure you will.”
“What makes you think it was Daisy?”
“That’s a whole other story.”
“I have time.”
“As it turned out, Daisy was renting him a room at her house.”
“I thought he was staying at Over the Moon,” she said, bringing up Amelia Langley’s inn. “And then moved in with Clara.”
“Never moved in with Clara. Apparently, Clifford stole cash from her bedroom. She confronted him and kicked him out. Then she went to the diner, and he approached her in the parking lot.”
“And?”
“One of the hostesses saw them in a heated argument. She overheard Daisy threatening to go to the police, then she walked into the diner minding her own business. She said maybe five minutes later she heard a gunshot.”
“A lot can happen in five minutes,” she argued.
“Not that much. Afterwards, she saw Daisy driving like a bat out of hell out of the parking lot. It was enough to arrest her, but we’re still pushing for a confession.”
Kate couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t think Daisy was the killer, but a tow truck pulled up the street then began backing towards her truck.
“Damn, they’re going to tow me?” She didn’t wait for his response, but hurried towards the tow driver. “I thought you were going to bring tires?”
“You thought wrong, lady.”
“Come on, I have to get up early tomorrow to get to work.”
“I can give you a few donuts, but that’s all I have. You’ll have to bring your truck into the shop to get tires.”
“Fine,” she said. She padded back to Scott. “Next time I’m calling Donnie’s Auto and that’s final.”
“Look, Donnie is fine, but he’s not triple-A.”
“Yeah, well, Donnie would’ve brought tires. What is this, amateur hour at the nation’s best-known roadside service?”
She wasn’t sure what she was more annoyed at, Scott having arrested the wrong person, or the fact she wouldn’t be getting a new set of tires as she’d expected, but the safest course of action would be directing her annoyance at the tow guy. Anything to save her and Scott from a sudden blow-up.
“What did Daisy have to say for herself when you arrested her?”
“She did what all guilty people do…she refused to say and word and waited for her lawyer.”
Kate snorted a laugh. “Where’s the gun?”
“That’s the missing link. We can’t locate it. And if she doesn’t start talking, it won’t matter how strong a case we build. She’ll get off as soon as she sees the inside of a courtroom.”
Soon, the tow guy had patched Kate’s tires and filled them with air.
“I’ll drive behind you in case you get into trouble,” said Scott.
She thanked the tow guy and waited for him to pull out of the driveway. As soon as he cleared the curb, she backed out and waited for Scott to ease up behind her in his truck. Then she drove slowly and carefully back to their house.
As if he had devised his plan during the ride home, Scott made a beeline for the kitchen as soon as they stepped inside and was quick to open a chilled bottle of white wine. He poured her a glass and handed it to her where she sat at the kitchen table.
If there was one thing that curbed her constant craving for coffee, it was a cool glass of wine.
Scott poured himself a glass and said, “It was nice of Dean to hire Jason.”
“That reminds me. I wanted to have the boys over for dinner to celebrate Jason’s new position.”
“Do you have the energy to cook?”
“Barely.”
“Let’s order in. You call them, and I’ll put in an order for delivery with Gino’s.”
She took another sip of wine, nodding at the same time, then pulled Jason’s number up on her cell phone.
“Honey,” she said, wandering into the living room so she would be able to talk without being distracted by Scott’s call to Gino’s. “Congratulations again.”
“Thanks,” he said through the earpiece. “I’m feeling a lot better.”
Kate thought she heard Amelia in the background.
“I wanted to see if you’d like to come over for dinner? I’ll give Jared a call as well. Scott and I were hoping to celebrate.”
“Ah, I’m at the Langleys.”
“Have you eaten?”
“No, could we all come?”
“Sure,” she said then shouted to Scott, “get enough for the Langleys, as well!” To Jason she added, “We’ll eat outside. It’s cooled off a bit. It’ll be nice.” As soon as she got off the phone, she padded back into the kitchen, asking, “Do I have time to shower?”
“You tell me.”
“I just need ten minutes.”
Scott looked momentarily ill; it was the way he tended to look whenever he was faced with the prospect of entertaining the Langleys alone.
“I’ll be two
seconds.”
“You said ten minutes.”
“Split the difference,” she called out.
“That’s a big difference.”
But she was quick. Before she knew it, she tore herself from the hot, relaxing stream and made her way into the bedroom where she threw on a nicer pair of jeans and a fresh t-shirt.
By the time she stepped out of the bedroom, Jason and Jared’s deeply booming laughter billowed into the hallway. It was good to hear them laughing, Jason especially, since she hadn’t seen him crack so much as a smile in the past few weeks other than when he was hired at Wentworth.
“Hi guys,” she said, joining them at the dining table. “Amelia, how are you? Lance?”
The Langleys offered her a solemn nod. Lance was nursing a beer, and Amelia gulped her white wine as if something about the evening was already making her uncomfortable. Kate wondered if Scott had made a pessimistic comment, which called to mind why the kidnapper hadn’t contacted them yet.
“What’s so funny?” she asked the twins, who were nestled at the corner of the table.
Jared spoke up, riding through a fresh wave of laughter. “Just reminiscing something stupid Jason did in college.”
“Ah, should’ve known,” she said just as the doorbell chimed.
Scott excused himself, noting it was Gino’s, and answered the door, while Kate busied herself to set plates around the table.
As soon as everyone settled around the table, Kate caught a curious glare Amelia was shooting at Jason—though he wasn’t aware of it.
She wanted to write it off as stress. Perhaps Amelia couldn’t allow herself to relax for one meal. However, Kate was getting a very different impression. Amelia was looking at Jason with suspicion, and Kate didn’t like it.
Angling to say something to lighten the tension she was sensing, Kate opened her mouth, but at the same time, Lance jolted, drawing his cell phone out of his jacket pocket.
She hadn’t even heard it ring or buzz.
He looked suddenly ill, staring at it, then his eyes snapped to Scott across the table.
“I don’t recognize the number,” he said, and in an instant, everyone was thinking the same thing.
Taking charge, Scott said, “Stay calm. Everything’s in place. Go ahead and answer it.”
Swallowing hard, Lance swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.
“Yes?”
As he listened, his eyes widened, and Scott rose calmly from the table then rushed into the kitchen to place a call, presumably to his surveillance team who were listening in on the wiretap.
“Tell me she’s safe,” Lance demanded in a strained tone. But then he immediately fell silent, having overstepped his bounds with the kidnapper. “Tomorrow night? Yes, fine.”
When he snapped his fingers, Amelia was quick with a pen and scrap of paper, but as soon as Lance had it, he didn’t write anything down. He only said, “The amusement park? Where specifically?” Then he listened. After a long moment, he lowered the phone and Scott returned. “He wants me to bring half a million dollars out to the construction site at midnight tomorrow. He said if I don’t come alone, he'd kill her.”
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Kate woke with a headache that she hoped coffee would cure. If it was a tension headache, she wasn’t sure how she would get through her day. Slogging through the next fourteen hours until Lance’s arranged swap with the kidnapper—Becky in exchange for cash—would not be easy. She wanted it to be over already. She needed her peaceful life back. But even if getting her soon-to-be daughter-in-law back home went smoothly, would her life return to peace? How could it when in her gut she knew the wrong person had been arrested for Clifford Green’s murder?
She dragged herself out of bed, all too aware that Scott had already left for the precinct. In the kitchen, she groaned, discovering there was no more coffee in the canister. The carafe was dark with the dregs of luke-warm coffee. She would have to stop off at Bean There, but the prospect of driving over without already having drunk a cup was daunting. Complicating matters were her truck tires. She was lucky she had driven home last night without incident. If anything, she should drive to Donnie’s Auto and get her rear tires replaced, but before having a fresh cup of coffee?
She didn’t see that happening.
After taking a quick shower and dressing, she started for her truck. It was going to be another hot one. By her estimation, it was already in the low nineties and come noon the heat would be sweltering. At least she had finished Meredith’s patio and wouldn’t have to work outside. The art deco house would be cool and so would Jared’s office, which would be her first stop this morning.
Driving to Bean There, she kept the odometer below thirty and tried not to get frustrated as other cars pulled up alongside hers, the drivers rolling their windows down and shouting to ask if she needed any help.
Finally, she pulled up to the curb outside of Bean There and breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t blown one of the donuts wrapping her tires. The fact that they’d held up this long was nothing short of a miracle.
As she padded into the coffee shop, she gave Donnie a quick call, making arrangements for him to have a few tires ready for her. She would swing by as soon as she had a little caffeine in her then head to the mayor’s office, finish her day at Meredith’s, and hopefully have time to be with the Langleys and Jason before Lance got swept off with Scott and the police team to make the critical exchange.
Clara was behind the counter when Kate stepped inside. She looked refreshed and her eyes were no longer puffy from crying over the death of her secret boyfriend.
Kate didn’t like the close connections that were forming between murder victims. Was it a chain of dominos? Cookie had been killed and then her old boyfriend, Clifford. Would Clara be next?
It pained her to realize she was considering there would be a “next” murder, but if the Anarchist Freedom Network had taught her anything, it was that when murders began cropping up, they were all interrelated. And it was only a matter of time before residents would put the pieces together. Rock Ridge had barely recovered from the stigma of being a playground for killers. In a lot of ways, Dean’s amusement park theory—bringing tourists in to boost the economy—should also serve to restore and preserve the reputation of this little town. But if more people were now being killed, what good would the park do? Who would come if word got out?
Groggily, she ordered a tall to-go cup of dark roast, as soon as she stepped up to the counter.
“You got it,” said Clara with a smile.
“You seem to be in a good mood.”
“Justice is being served,” she said simply. “I never would’ve thought it was Daisy, but now that she’s been arrested, I feel a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”
At least someone was feeling relieved.
“Thanks,” said Kate, handing her cash for the coffee and telling her to keep the change.
As soon as she got to her truck, a fresh wave of anxiety rushed through her, but she wrangled the emotion, forcing it down into the pit of her stomach and then drowning it in coffee.
She drove to Donnie’s Auto, where her favorite mechanic was having a smoke outside. The auto shop looked quiet. There were only a few cars docked, which Donnie’s employees were tending to. It meant that having her tires changed shouldn’t dominate her morning.
“Pull her into the third bay,” he shouted, walking backwards and waving her car inside the garage.
When she stepped out, coffee in hand, she thanked him for taking her in on such short notice.
“Heard you got your tires slashed,” he commented, snubbing out his cigarette—boot to concrete.
“It was quite a surprise,” she remarked then took a sip of coffee.
“We’ll have you out of here in no time.”
And he did. The twenty minutes flew by, and before she knew it, she was heading back into the center of town. As soon as she parked, she called J
ared’s office line and asked if he wouldn’t mind helping her carry up the paint cans she’d bought.
Moments later, Jared was jogging across the parking lot, as she released the truck’s backboard down and grabbed a couple of cans.
“If you could get the last two, that’d be great.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Jared hoisted them out and set them on the asphalt then locked the backboard into place. Following her with paint cans in hand, he asked, “So what color did you get me?”
“It’s a soft yellow. Should brighten the place up,” she said with a smile. In the elevator, she asked, “Is Dean around?”
“He’s been in and out,” said Jared. “I think he’s back though. We all expected him to be in the office for good now that Jason’s at the helm of Wentworth, but after the call last night...” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Jason has plummeted. I stopped in first thing this morning, and he hadn’t even gotten out of bed. I doubt he’ll make it over to the construction site today. Until Lance drops that money off and we get Becky back, I don’t see how Jason’s going to concentrate or do anything.”
It was understandable. Kate felt like she was in the same boat, holding her breath until everything went back to normal.
“How close is Scott going to let us get?” he asked, leading her through the office and into the storage closet that would hopefully not look dreary after she painted and fixed it up.
“I really don’t know,” she said. “Scott’s taking this very seriously, and Lance is going to have to go in alone. I think he plans to keep the team in a van way down the street and get some officers in the woods to wait and swoop in as soon as Becky comes into view.”
“What happened to this town?” he asked, setting the paint cans on the ground.
She didn’t know.
He offered her a parting smile, but it wavered badly. “I’ll be out in the hall at my desk if you need anything.”
Kate made one more trip down to her truck to get her paint rollers, tins, and drop cloths, and then got to work in the storage closet.
As she painted, stroking on the cheerful yellow hue, which did wonders for brightening up the room, she listened to Jared’s various phone calls. A few hours passed and she had completed painting on a thick coat. It would need to dry before she rolled on the second, but with no windows in the room that could take a while. Ordinarily, she would get down to business installing the shelving unit Jared had ordered, but the paint fumes were much too strong.
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