Dressed to Kill

by Lynn Cahoon

  He laughed. “Light reading is my stack of comic books. That looks more like you’re taking a class over at the university.”

  “I read fast. It’s a side benefit from owning a bookstore.” I nodded toward the store. “How are things going with Josh? You two getting along?”

  “Mr. Thomas is amazing. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff he knows about antiques and shit.” Kyle reddened. “I mean stuff. Don’t tell Mr. Thomas I swore. He’s been on my case about my language lately. He says I need to learn to be polite in any situation in order to be a good salesman.”

  I bit my lip. Josh Thomas was the very opposite of polite. Cold, demeaning, rude even at times, Kyle’s boss was teaching his student something Josh needed to learn, as well. “No worries.” I waved my hand to brush the words away. “He won’t hear it from me.”

  Kyle beamed. “Thanks. I love working here. Josh says on Monday I get to go with him to an estate auction up the coast. He’s scoped the offerings and says we’ll make a killing if we get the lot.”

  Now, that sounded more like the Josh Thomas I knew. “I’ll let you get back to your work then.”

  “I’m supposed to sweep the sidewalk three times a day when I’m working. I can’t believe how fast the trash builds up. Have you seen the pictures Mr. Thomas took with the piles of trash?”

  I looked down and saw a Coffee, Books, and More logo on a disposable cup in the gutter. “I guess my store isn’t helping.” I grabbed the cup and put it in the trash bag next to Kyle.

  “Not your fault the customers are slobs.” He grinned, then lowered his voice. “No matter what Mr. Thomas says.”

  I said my good-byes and made a mental note to fill the agenda for the next Business-to-Business meeting with anything but Josh’s agenda items. He had gotten his five minutes under Sherry’s agenda. I’d make sure he wouldn’t get the chance again.

  You’re being childish. I swept the good angel off my shoulder. I hadn’t even opened the self-help books, and I was already making better decisions. Look out, South Cove, Jill Gardner was on a roll.

  Amy glanced at the clock when I stopped in front of her desk. “What are you doing out this early?”

  Seriously, I needed to mix up my schedule more. I shrugged. “Wanted to see how Justin was today.”

  “I haven’t heard from him since he left the apartment about noon yesterday. He doesn’t drink more than a couple of glasses of wine or a beer or two usually. I don’t think the boy has had a hangover since college.” She snuck a peek at the closed door of the mayor’s office. “Man, Marvin was hot this morning when I came in. I guess he had to answer the phone all day yesterday because Esmeralda told him the calls coming in to his office weren’t part of her job duties.”

  “I bet that went over well.” I kept my voice low, not wanting the mayor to hear us talking. I didn’t need a dose of Mayor Baylor today.

  “He’s got me putting an amendment to the police dispatcher’s job description into the city council agenda next week. Of course, Greg is going to fight it. He says Esmeralda can’t be expected to juggle everyday calls and emergencies at the same time. And right now, the council loves your boyfriend.” Amy looked at the clock again and sighed. “So, no lunch at Lille’s today?”

  I thought about my plans to do laundry and drive into Bakerstown for groceries. And clean the bathroom. When I reached that item on my to-do list, I made a quick decision. “I’ll meet you in our regular booth at eleven o’clock.”

  “Not feeling the housework list?” Amy guessed.

  “Exactly.” I nodded to the hallway leading to the police department. “Is Greg in yet?”

  Amy frowned. “I haven’t seen him. Esmeralda said he was heading over to Bakerstown to see Doc Ames this morning.”

  Interesting. “Did she say why? Is this about Kent?”

  Amy scanned the still-empty waiting room, lowering her voice. “I don’t know. What have you heard?”

  I sighed. “Nothing. Darla thinks it’s murder, but you know Darla. She’s always looking for a juicy story for the Examiner.”

  “Well, I haven’t heard anything, but I was out yesterday. According to Esmeralda, Greg wasn’t around much yesterday at all.” Amy cocked her head. “What did he say at dinner?”

  “I didn’t see him last night.” My Spidey senses started to tingle.

  Amy’s eyebrows raised, just a bit. “I thought you guys always ate together, at least dinner.”

  “Not when he’s on a case.” Or avoiding me, I added in my inside voice.

  Crap. There I went again, thinking the worst. I squared my shoulders and put on a smile I didn’t feel. “I’m sure he’s just busy.”

  Amy opened her mouth, then the buzzer on her phone interrupted.

  “Did the mail come yet?” Mayor Baylor’s voice echoed through the empty room.

  After rolling her eyes, she pushed a button. “You know it doesn’t arrive until after ten. Jillian doesn’t even open the post office until nine.”

  “I told her we needed to be the first stop. I’ve got important things to do. I can’t be waiting on a postal carrier strolling around town gawking at the sites.” The intercom button went dark.

  “I’d better get on the phone and see what’s holding up the mayor’s mail.” Amy laughed. “See you at Lille’s.”

  I left City Hall wondering what the mayor could be expecting. Most of my snail mail now was junk or bills. I got most of my correspondence from friends through e-mail. Although the historical commission always sent their semiannual “we’re working on your application” letter through the mail. Still, the only news they would provide was a generic status that wasn’t worth the cost of the stamp.

  I stepped out into the bright sunlight and almost ran smack into Mary Sullivan, the heart and soul behind South Cove Bed-and-Breakfast. I’d always thought Bill was the business guy of the couple, but after seeing Mary’s analysis of the Christmas festival, I had begun to wonder. Mary’s blond hair, usually neatly combed into a short pageboy, was off center. And she looked like she’d been on a five-mile run. “Hey, are you okay?”

  She blinked at me, like she was trying to remember my name. Which made me even more concerned. Mary and Bill were older, maybe not as old as Jackie, but definitely considered retirement age. Was this what a stroke looked like? Should I call an ambulance? Questions floated through my head as Mary settled in front of me and finally smiled.

  “Jill, what are you doing here?” She glanced around the street, like she wasn’t sure what she was doing here, either. She peeked behind me. “Is Jackie with you?”

  “Like she could hide behind me?” I stole a look at my capris and tank top. “I don’t think I’m big enough to hide a fully grown woman.”

  Mary’s eyebrows furrowed. “Of course not, why would you even say that?”

  I was about to point out she’d just looked around me for my aunt when she waved my words away.

  “Of course she’s not with you. Today’s your day off, right? Jackie will be at the shop.” Mary took a step away from me and toward Coffee, Books, and More. She stopped, realizing she’d been impolite. “Sorry, I’m just in a hurry to talk to your aunt.”

  I put my hand on Mary’s elbow and walked her to the park bench in front of City Hall under the large pine. Her hand shook as she moved her purse onto her lap. “Hold on a second. Take a breath. Are you feeling okay?”

  Mary’s eyes lost that distant look and she focused on my face. No, that wasn’t right. Her gaze bored into my soul like she could read my thoughts. “Why? What have you heard?”

  I put my hands up, trying to calm her. “All I know is you look like crap. I don’t want to walk away from you and find out you collapsed in the middle of Main Street after we parted ways. Do you want some water?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, I’ve been a little frazzled lately, but I’m fine, really.”

  I watched as she ran her fingers through her hair, moving the do into a respectable shape. She took another deep breath
and pasted on a smile so fake it could have been synthetically designed.

  “You can tell me anything. I won’t blab.” My gaze dropped to the two-carat diamond ring on Mary’s left hand. “You and Bill okay?”

  She waved away my question. “We’ve been married fifty years, of course we’re okay. I’ve just been”—she paused, seeking a word—“distracted for a few weeks. Our anniversary is coming up, and I want everything to be perfect.”

  I weighed her words. They rang true. Except I could feel that there was more to what was going on besides a celebration of their nuptials. “If there’s anything I can do to help …” I trailed off as Mary’s cell rang. She dug in her purse, not looking at me.

  Answering the phone, she stepped away and absently waved at me as she focused on the phone call. “I’m so glad you called me. I’ve been worried. I left several messages.”

  I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, as Mary almost ran down the sidewalk to get away from me. I put call Aunt Jackie on my mental to-do list, along with maybe a call to Bill, strictly about the next Business-to-Business meeting. If he was acting as weird as his wife, then I’d know something was up with the two of them.

  Trouble in paradise. Seriously, Bill and Mary were the last married couple I’d have pegged for having problems. If they couldn’t make it, what did that say about the rest of us?

  CHAPTER 7

  Aunt Jackie hadn’t answered her cell. I’d gotten the machine when I called Bill. And now Amy was late for lunch. For a Friday, it wasn’t living up to my expectations. I thumbed through the ton of e-books I’d bought and downloaded onto my phone with the expectation I’d read them when I found a spare minute of time. Like now.

  Instead, I thumbed through the covers, wondering which one I wanted to start. Scrolling through my phone was like walking through the bookstore; I had too many choices.

  I heard Amy slide into the booth across from me. I closed out the program and set my phone aside; I’d figure out a book to read the next time I had a few minutes alone. Then I looked up. Amy wasn’t the person sitting across from me.

  “Hear me out.” Pat Williams held up a perfectly manicured hand.

  I shook my head. “I really don’t think we have anything to talk about.” Pat was Sherry’s best friend. If the two women stood side by side you’d swear they were sisters. They both had that trophy wife look, all polished and professional. Although, I guess, to run a shop where you charged the kind of prices they did for used clothes, looking professional was part of the package. Sherry and Pat just took their “work uniform” to a 24/7 level of commitment.

  “You have to help her. Greg will listen to you.” Pat grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You have power over him.”

  I swear she almost tripped over what she didn’t say at the end of that sentence, something like even though I have no idea how. But I couldn’t fault her for words not spoken. “Look, Sherry’s just going to have to get over the fact that Greg and I are dating. She had her shot with him, now that’s over.”

  “You don’t understand—” Pat started, then looked up at Amy standing by the table, glowering at the interloper.

  “You’re in my seat.” Amy’s words were chilly cold.

  Pat looked from me to Amy, then let out a dramatic sigh any high school theater coach would be proud of. She slipped out of the booth but stood while Amy sat. She tapped her manicured nail on the table. “You have to help her. Sherry’s my best friend.”

  Then she turned and walked out of Diamond Lille’s, her designer stiletto heels clicking all the way to the door.

  Amy pushed her purse into the corner of the booth. “What was all that about? I know I should have been more charitable, but I’ve never liked that woman. Besides, the fact that the mayor adores both her and Sherry makes me dubious of her personal worth.”

  “I didn’t know Mayor Baylor knew Pat, too. I thought the connection to Sherry was through Greg.” I stared at the menu like I hadn’t read it two or three times a week for the last five—no, make that six—years.

  Amy picked up her own menu. “For some reason, Pat showed up at City Hall this morning. The mayor was still obsessing over the fact that our mail was an hour late. He kept her cooling on the couch in the waiting room for at least an hour.”

  “What did she come in to talk about?” I set aside the menu. It was Friday and that meant homemade clam chowder and fish and chips. I’d run that morning; I deserved the treat.

  Carrie showed up at the table before Amy could answer. “Hey, girls.” Carrie snapped her gum. “What can I get for you, the usual?”

  Amy shook her head. “What exactly is the usual?”

  “Oh, you nonbeliever. No worries, we can play it your way.” Carrie looked at me, then she listed off my order, down to the vanilla milk shake. Pointing at Amy, she said, “You will have a double-stack cheeseburger, curly fries, and onion rings, because you had a light breakfast, and a chocolate shake.”

  Amy pushed the menu toward Carrie. “Ha, you’re wrong. I want a cookies-and-cream milk shake.”

  “Whatever,” Carrie mumbled and picked up the menus. “I’ll have your drinks out soon.”

  When Carrie was out of earshot, Amy leaned close, taking a look around the crowded diner before she spoke. “I think she had a business situation to talk to him about. I kept hearing Sherry’s name come up in the discussion. Did you know that Pat has forty percent ownership in Vintage Duds?”

  “Seriously? I thought Sherry had gotten the start-up money from her folks. At least that’s what Greg said.” I thought about Pat’s words. Were they meant as a plea for me to step aside so Sherry and Greg could live happily ever after again? Kids held a torch for their parents’ relationship longer than either of the married couple. Maybe Pat felt Sherry and Greg were her parental relationship. As sick as that sounded.

  Our shakes arrived, and I sipped on the pure, cold vanilla and smiled. Sweet, icy goodness. What else was there to say about an ice cream treat on a hot day? I realized Amy had started talking again and tuned in to her words.

  “That was what Sherry told everyone. But the real story, according to what I could hear from Mayor Baylor’s off ice, was that her parents refused her the money, thinking the idea was another one of her get-rich-quick schemes.” Amy shrugged. “I guess Pat got a good settlement in her last divorce, so she helped her friend out.”

  “They must be really close.” I picked up a fry from the basket Carrie had popped on the table with Amy’s meal without even stopping to talk. I guess we’d insulted her waitress mojo by questioning her knowledge of our usual order. I wasn’t worried; Carrie couldn’t stay mad long. Her boss, on the other hand, could hold a grudge for years. Lille still gave me the stink eye for keeping time with her last loser boyfriend, even though I hadn’t been interested in Ray, not at all.

  Amy broke an onion ring in half. “So you wouldn’t bankroll me in a new storefront? Maybe a surfing shop?” Her eyebrows raised. “That’s not a bad idea at all. South Cove could use a board store, and I could give lessons, and …”

  I held up a hand. “Not going to happen. I’ve got my hands full owning Coffee, Books, and More, even if Aunt Jackie treats me like a silent partner. No way would I start another business.”

  Her smile widened. “Who said I wanted your help with the store? In my daydream, you’re the perfect Daddy Warbucks and it’s a silent movie track.”

  “You’re crazy.” It wasn’t like I couldn’t have used the Miss Emily fund, as I’d come to call the money I’d inherited from my friend, but I was superstitious. You never needed money until you didn’t have any. And with the age of both my house and the building where the shop sat, I figured we were just holding off the inevitable. I bit into the fish. Heaven. Crunchy, with a solid filet inside and seasoned to perfection. I could eat fish every day and twice on Sunday.

  “I’d probably get bored anyway. I never was much of a salesman. Even when I had to sell cookies for the troop, my mom bought most of
my allotment because I didn’t want to go door to door.” Amy picked up her cheeseburger and started devouring the sandwich. We ate in silence.

  “You know I’d do anything for you, including bankrolling your business, but it feels wrong somehow.” I paused, not knowing what else to say. I realized I’d also broken Rule Number Fourteen in the self-help book I’d glanced through that morning: Never be the first to talk after an uncomfortable silence. It makes you appear weak and vulnerable. I remembered it because my reaction had been summed up in two words: Bull crap. Now I wondered if I’d been hasty in my assessment.

  Amy held out her hand, stopping me from talking. “Earth to Jill. I was kidding. No way I’d be an off icial beach bum like Dustin Austin. Sometimes it’s too easy to tease you. Hey, I’ve got a great idea. Let’s do a girls’ night tonight.”

  “Tonight? You and me?” We hadn’t been out together without the guys forever. This was sounding like an amazing idea.

  “You, me, Sadie, Pat, Sherry, I’d invite Darla, but she won’t leave the winery. But we could meet there and she could join the group for a while. Maybe even invite Esmeralda.” Amy’s eyes shined bright as she formalized the plan in her head.

  “No way will Sherry and Pat join us. You know Sherry hates me.” I grabbed the last onion ring from Amy’s plate. “Sadie might come, depends on what Nick’s doing. Esmeralda has readings scheduled.”

  “We’ll invite her anyway, can’t hurt. Besides, the more people, the easier it will be to talk to Sherry about her relationship to Kent. And what she wants with Greg. If Pat’s right, it might be good to keep an eye on the woman.” Amy started texting. “I’m sending out the invite right now.”

  I wasn’t sure Amy’s plan was to anyone’s benefit, but the old saying about keeping your enemies close kept ringing in my head. And who knows, with a couple of beers, I might just find something the woman and I had in common, besides Greg.

  Walking home after lunch, I thought about Amy’s words. I did get too involved in others’ problems, especially those of people I cared about. Often, it got me in trouble. Especially with Greg. I’d had my life threatened more than once because I’d kept pushing for answers when really, it wasn’t my business.