“Don’t let that exterior fool you,” Myra said, anger obvious in her voice. “I’ve known women like her my entire life, women who didn’t earn their way into these circles. They’re always trouble.”
I turned back to her, remembering the way she alluded to me not earning my way into this show either. I could only imagine what she thought of me.
Looking past her, I saw my father and Mayor McConnell walking toward me.
“If you’d excuse me,” I said, pushing past the woman.
Walking up to my father, I couldn’t help but notice the way Mayor McConnell seemed more at ease with the older man.
“I was afraid you weren’t going to make it,” I said, smiling at him.
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he answered. “I’m actually something of a fan of these.”
“Really?” I asked, honestly surprised. “I never knew- I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be into that kind of thing.”
He laughed loudly. “You know, I never was before. I was more of a ballgame type person. Barbara turned me onto it.”
“Barbara?” I asked, my heart jumping a little. “Aiden’s mom?”
“Yes,” he answered, reaching down and giving Mayor McConnell a pat on the head which he, amazingly, allowed without flinching. “I guess you don’t know her, do you?”
Only since nearly the beginning of my life.
“I’ll have to remedy that,” I answered, smiling politely. “I mean, if you like her, she must really be something.” I steadied myself, blinking hard. “You do like her, don’t you?”
“Barbara?” he asked, and I could tell from the wistful look on his face that he liked her a lot more than he would ever tell a stranger like me. “I do,” he said, nodding.
“I’m so happy for you,” I said. My voice cracked with the strangest mixture of happiness and melancholy that I had perhaps ever felt as the words ended, and I hoped my father didn’t hear it. I certainly wouldn’t be able to explain why I was so affected by his happiness. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. “After so much loss, I’m just glad you’re doing better.”
“Me too,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “It seems a little late to be starting things all over again, but I suppose I can do it.” He nodded. “Can you believe Harvey’s baby will be born next month, and then I’ll have a kid.”
“Another kid,” I corrected, my heart doing some sort of dance between sorrow and joy. I wanted him to be happy. More than anything, I wanted that, but I wanted to be there for it too. And not just in the way I was now. I didn’t want to look at my father’s life from the outside. I wanted him to know the truth, to know who I was.
For the first time in awhile, the idea of telling my father the truth seeped into my mind again. It was a bad idea. I knew that. Telling Darrin the truth had only caused to complicate things. Still, I ached to be honest, regardless of the cost.
As if sensing my intention, Mayor McConnell stood up and barked loudly, pulling me back to myself.
He was right. I couldn’t do that to my father. I couldn’t be that selfish. He was finally moving on. He had Barbara. In a month, he would have a baby too. Throwing him back onto the roller coaster that was my tumultuous second life would only serve to ruin that for him.
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I won’t.
“Quiet, Colin,” Dad said, looking down at the mayor.
Like Goldie before him, Mayor McConnell did as he was told, even sitting back down to boot.
“Wow,” I muttered. “You’re really good with him.”
“He makes it easy,” Dad answered.
I blinked, an idea forming in my head. This place was starting to get really crowded. Everyone in town would be here, even most of the news vans who had set up shop on Main Street.
If I could take this time, I could do a little investigating myself. The town would be practically empty, and I could use that blank canvas to put things together and try and bring some sense to this.
I could also look for the flash drive and, luckily, I had a pretty good idea of where I might find it.
Still, I had made a commitment to this show and to Mayor Hester. I promised to be here. No. That wasn’t true. I only promised to compete and, like Myra had said before, you didn’t actually have to be involved to compete. She had a handler. Lionel was a handler. Why couldn’t I have a handler too?
“Mr. Clarke,” I said, breathing heavy and making sure I didn’t slip up and call him ‘Dad.' “You like these things? I mean, you know what goes on during them? All the pieces of the show and whatnot?”
“I do,” he answered. “I’m assuming you do too, Rita. Given the fact that you’re a few minutes from actually competing in one.”
I sighed heavily. “Here’s the thing-”
“Oh no,” he answered, understanding I had no idea what I was doing. “I’m sensing joining this wasn’t your idea?”
“Mayor Hester can be very persuasive when she wants to be,” I answered.
“Tell me about it,” he chuckled. “Last year, she had convinced everyone that having a statue of herself erected in the park would be good for tourism. If not for spending the expendable money in the budgets last year on our biggest barbeque festival yet, you’d have been looking at her ridiculous face set in stone every morning on your way to work.”
That would definitely not have been the best part of waking up.
“You know this stuff,” I said, grabbing his hand. “You know Mayor McConnell. He likes you, which is a feat so rare and amazing, I’m considering the idea that maybe there’s a supernatural component to it.”
“What are you getting at?” Dad asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Would you be my handler?” I asked breathlessly.
“Your handler?” he asked. “You want me to actually be in the show?” He looked from the dog to me and then at the cameras. I knew this would be an issue. My father had never been the type of guy who liked attention. He wouldn’t want to have a building full of people staring at him, and he certainly wouldn’t like the idea of a viewing audience at home critiquing his every move.
Still, there was another component to my father’s personality that gave me hope. As much as he hated the idea of attention, he hated the idea of letting a person in need down even more.
“Please,” I said, squeezing his hand. Looking into his eyes, I saw them soften and knew I had him. “Thank you so much,” I said quickly.
“But I haven’t answered yet,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yeah you did,” I said, pulling away from him and starting toward the door. “Just not with your words.”
“Are you leaving?” he asked, scratching his head.
“Just for a bit,” I answered, already halfway to the door. “I just have one tiny thing to take care of, but I know you’ll do great. I totally believe in you.”
“Um... okay. Thanks,” he said, and I rushed out the door and toward my destination.
22
I had been right about the town. With the dog show in full swing, the place was nearly empty. Sure, there was still an attendant at the gas station, and a few of the old men resided in their usual perches on the front porch of the courthouse. Other than that though, there was no one as far as the eye could see.
Even the General Store had closed down in observance of what Mayor Hester called the ‘biggest event in town history.'
I passed by the Inn, looking up at the roof, at the place where all of this started. It occurred to me that- while I had gone into Lionel’s room looking for clues, I had not been on the roof itself. That was a shame. If there were any clues up there, they had almost certainly blown away by now. The wind had been up lately and, if there was any doubt about its effectiveness, the rain showers we had last night would have definitely done the trick.
No. Anything on the roof was lost, stripped away by Mother Nature.
As if I didn’t have enough to deal with.
It didn’t matter. I was passed th
at now. I needed to find that flash drive. I needed to know what Lionel had been up to and what was so important that- even in death- he wanted to keep the secret safe.
Wanda had no idea where the thing had gone, and it wasn’t like I could be of any assistance. The stupid thing had been in the pie shop for days, the clue to all of this right under my nose, and what had I done? I had run around town like a chicken with my head cut off all the while.
The whole town had been in the pie shop this week. Literally, anyone could have run their fingers under that table and pulled the flash drive out. That, of course, led to the question of who would and who would have motive.
For a person to take the flash drive, the person would have to know it was there. They would also very likely have to know what it was. Children aside, I couldn’t think of anyone who would grab a piece of hardware hat had been taped under a table. And if it had been taken by children, it was likely gone forever anyway.
No. I had to work on the assumption that the drive was still in play, that I could still get to it and, regardless of what Myra thought, that everything was connected.
This is where things got tricky. If everything was connected, then that meant there were still more than a few pieces of this puzzle missing. I couldn’t make sense of it all. So many people seemed to have so many motives. Dr. Appleton and Wanda wanted me to solve this to get to the truth and avenge a man they both were fond of. Mayor Heston wanted me in the dog show to divert attention from what was going on, and Myra wanted me to get to the bottom of it in order to disqualify her biggest opponent.
In fact, now that Darrin was back on my side, the only person in town who seemed to dislike the idea of me sticking my reincarnated nose where it didn’t belong was Angie McConnell.
Couple that with the fact that Angie had been lying about her past and being fired from the police department, and it seemed more than enough for me to start with her place when it came to looking for the drive.
The thing was, breaking into a detective’s apartment wasn’t exactly a legal endeavor. As with so many things in my life, if I was going to make this work, I was going to have to sweeten it first.
I marched into the Springview Apartments building with two boxes in hand. I looked up at the place as I entered. It had gotten a paint job since last I saw it, and looked a lot cleaner and more well kept than I remembered.
I chuckled a little. The place didn’t actually have a view of the spring in Second Springs. Well, to be fair, it had a view of the first spring, the one that dried up and didn’t exist anymore, but who cared about a thing like that?
In truth, if Peggy hadn’t offered me the studio behind the pie shop, I might have very well ended up living in this building. It wasn’t like I could have moved back into my old room in my father’s house. Seeing as how he thought I was a different person and all, that might not turn out well.
I pushed into the lobby, looking at the décor and smiling just a little. For whatever reason, the Springview Apartments lobby had a slightly seaside vibe to it, complete with ceramic seashells and blue painted waves on the wall.
“Can I help you?” a quasi-familiar voice sounded from across the room.
Looking over, I saw Daniel Sprig sitting behind the front desk. He had his feet up on the desk and an IPad in his hand. He didn’t bother looking at me as I entered.
It wouldn’t have mattered if he did. Though I grew up with Richard Sprig, he didn’t know this body, and he wouldn’t have reacted well even if he knew who was bouncing around the inside of it.
Richard had always been kind of a jerk. He was the type of guy who peaked in high school, deciding to spend his glory days making fun of smarter and kinder kids, giving them wet willies and shooting spitballs through straws and blaming other people when the teacher turned around.
That didn’t change as he grew. He became even more of a jerk, even more of a louse. He had never been a fan of Aiden’s either, hating my former fiancé ever since he lost the position of lead quarterback to him in high school.
He used to say that was a turning point in his life and that, if he’d just gotten what he deserved, he would be playing in the NFL right now, even though both he and Aiden were mediocre at best.
“I need to talk to my friend Angie McConnell,” I said settling in front of him and plastering on a bright and very fake smile.
“I don’t know who that is,” he answered. Now that I was closer, I could hear the noises coming from his IPad and recognized them as a game I enjoyed playing too.
“She just moved in,” I said, trying to talk over the noise. “A week ago I think.”
“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head and still not bothering to look up at me. “I’m sure she did, but do you really expect me to keep track of who does and doesn’t live in this building?”
“Well, you are the front desk clerk,” I answered, as though it should be an obvious part of his duties.
“And what an honor it is,” he answered. “Look, if you want to get buzzed up, then go hit the buzzer and tell Amanda McMuffin that you’re here.”
“Here name is Angie McConnell,” I corrected.
“Isn’t that what I said?” he asked, his fingers flicking on the screen.
“I don’t know what her room number is,” I admitted.
“Well, then you must not be a very good friend,” he answered, his tone as uninterested as I had ever heard it.
“Well, she is new,” I said, trying to explain. “Besides, she’s not here. She’s at the dog show.”
Which is where I was kind of hoping you’d be.
“Then why don’t you come back when Antonio Banderas gets home?” he asked.
“That’s a man name,” I said. “And you have to know it’s not right.”
“Look,” he said firmly, finally looking up at me. As he did, Richard’s eyes got big. “Hey there, Red,” he said, his face brightening up with a greasy smile.
Oh…oh no.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” he said.
“I just moved here,” I explained, looking at his obvious interest in me and trying to keep my lunch down.
“From where? Heaven?” he asked.
Well, now that you mention it…
“I work at the pie shop now,” I said, deciding my best move would be to play into this, regardless of how disgusted I might be about it. “You should come by some time.”
He leaned forward, his smile widening.
“I don’t usually eat pie,” he said, patting his decidedly rotund belly. “I’m trying tog et back in shape. Gonna make a run at the NFL. I don’t know if you heard, but I was a pretty legendary football player back in high school.”
“Was that you?” I asked, slathering a healthy dose of fake interest onto my words. “I think I have heard stories about that. They called you the Hammer?”
His eyes widened so much that I was afraid they were going to pop right out of his head.
“You have heard about me,” he said, practically cooing with joy.
In actuality, Richard had been responsible for giving himself the name the Hammer. No one else ever called him that, at least not without being sarcastic about it, and the only reason I knew that was because I was there when it happened.
Even in a town as sleepy as Second Springs, people still didn’t gather around to talk about second string quarterbacks with bad attitudes.
“You should have seen me back in the day,” he said, and his eyes fogged over with the mist of the past. “I was really something.”
“That’s an understatement,” I muttered. “I mean, judging from what I heard,” I corrected, smiling again. “I wish I could have seen you.”
“You can!” he said standing. “I mean, I have the videos.”
“There are videos of that?” I asked, knitting my brow together, and feeling more than a little sad for the guy.
“Of course there are,” he said, beaming. “My grandmother taped every one of my games.”
/> You made your poor grandmother tape three hours of you sitting on a bench?
“That would be great,” I said. “I would absolutely love that.”
“Awesome!” he said, and he was almost shaking with excitement. “When can I show you?”
“Well, where are they?” I asked, a glimmer of a less than honest idea taking shape in my mind.
“There at my grandmother’s house. I mean my house,” he said. “What I mean is, I live with my grandmother, but I totally pay rent. So I’m not a loser or anything.”
“Who could ever call you a loser?” I asked, touching his forearm.
“That’s what I keep saying,” he answered.
“I have an idea,” I said, setting the pies down on the desk. “Why don’t you go and get them right now?”
“Right now?” he asked, looking around. “I would love to, but I’m the only one here. I can’t just leave the desk.”
I let out an audible sigh and picked the pies back up. “That’s a shame,” I said. “I was really looking forward to seeing you in action.” I turned to go. “I guess I’ll just come back later to see my friend. It was nice to meet you, Ricardo.”
“Richard,” he said weakly.
“Right. Richard,” I answered. “I’m sure I’ll see around.” I chimed. “Or not.”
“Wait!” he said, and I heard him rushing toward me. “I’ll go. I’ll go right now. There’s nobody here anyway. They’re all at that ridiculous dog show. I’ll run over to my grandmother’s-to my house- grab the tapes and come right back. It’ll take me ten minutes.”
I smiled. “Just enough time for me to cut us a couple slices of pie while we watch.” I looked him up and down. “Unless, of course, your diet is too important to you.”
“I’m sure I can make an exception,” he said. “Just-just wait right here okay. If anyone comes in, just point to the sign that says ‘Be Back in 5’.”
“Sure thing,” I said, and blew him a kiss as he headed toward the door.
My stomach did not thank me for it as it did even more flips as a result, but Richard definitely enjoyed it, smiling and muttering “Oh boy,” as he pushed through the door.
Twice Dipped Murder: A Rita Reincarnated Cozy Page 12
