by Lynn Cahoon
“Wife trumps girlfriend any time.” Aunt Jackie shook her head. “I would have thought you’d know that by now. Weren’t you a divorce lawyer?”
“Family law,” I corrected. “I was talking social etiquette, not legal regulations.”
“Same thing.” Aunt Jackie looked at me, pausing at my hair, tied back into a loose bun with a clip. She sighed, but instead of the lecture I’d expected over the mess, she asked, “Can you take my shift tomorrow? I know I told you I’d work, but I’ve got a few things I have to do in the city. Mary and I are leaving tonight after I close the shop.”
“Sure, Greg’s tied up with the Kent thing so I don’t have real plans except laundry. I forgot to mention that Mary was looking for you the other day. What’s going on?” I eyed another cookie, wondering if I could wait for my aunt to leave and therefore skip the lecture about eating too much sugar. Except she’d brought the box, so she must expect me to eat a few. My hand reached toward the cookie box, but my aunt snapped the lid shut and stood.
“We’re just doing a girl trip, why would you ask?” My aunt dug in her purse, avoiding eye contact.
I studied her, wondering what she wasn’t telling me. Before I could push the issue, a knock sounded at the door. “Hold on. I’ve got some questions.”
I followed Emma to the front of the house and pulled open the door. This time, I should have looked first. Someday I’d learn and avoid awkward conversations like the one that was just about to occur.
Pat Williams stood at my door. Her brunette hair was twisted into a French braid, and her casual uniform of designer silk dress, gold chains, and what I liked to call hooker shoes topped off the ensemble. Between Pat’s outfit and my aunt’s, I looked like one of the homeless on the city streets dressed in jeans. Pat’s lips curved into a smile that would have had a football team of males running to help her pick up a dropped napkin. The action had no power over me, however; I knew when someone wanted something. And this favor was going to be a doozy.
“Jill, I can’t believe I’ve never visited your lovely house.” Pat glanced around the porch. “So quant and homey. This place was quite a wreck when that nasty old lady owned it. What was her name again?”
I leaned against the doorway, and Emma softly growled at my feet. “Her name was Emily and she was my friend.” I let my words sink in, and as I saw her smile dim, I went in for the kill. “Get to the point, Pat. What do you want? You didn’t come to visit.”
Pat sighed, then reached into her Coach bag and pulled out a tissue. She dabbed at her dry eyes. “I’ve come to ask for your help. You are the only one who can save her. Greg’s trying to send Sherry to prison.”
I shook my head. “Greg’s not vindictive. Besides, they’ve been divorced for years. The only way Sherry will be arrested and sent to prison is if she killed someone.” Dawning realization filled my mind. “You think she killed Kent, don’t you?”
Pat shook her head, but her smile disappeared. “No. There’s no way.” But something in her eyes made me wonder if even Sherry’s best friend had doubts.
“Look, I still don’t know why you’re here. You know Greg. If the investigation proves it’s Sherry, then that’s what will happen. He doesn’t make things up. He finds the truth.” I put my hand on the door.
“Ha. You don’t know how ugly it got between those two. I thought for a while he was going to kill Sherry, he was that mad when she left.” Pat seemed to consider something, then kept talking. “I want you to prove Sherry didn’t kill Kent.”
“Are you freaking nuts?” I’d died and gone to crazytown. “Why should I?”
Pat stared at me hard. “Because if you do, I’ll make Sherry back off Greg. She’s been pushing hard for a reconciliation. I can make that stop.”
By the time Pat left, I’d found out all about the dozen or so women whom Kent had been dating in the last few years in addition to Sherry and now, his ex-wife, Cheryl. When I returned to the kitchen, Aunt Jackie pushed a pad toward me.
“I wrote down every name she said.” She tapped her pen on the list. “Looks like you have a few people to check out on Monday.”
I took a bottle of light beer out of the fridge and slipped into a chair, staring at the list. “You think I should? I mean, there’s no way Greg would even consider going back with her.”
Aunt Jackie tucked her purse under her arm and kissed me on the cheek. “I know you. It doesn’t matter why you get involved in an investigation; you just like to solve problems. Don’t let Sherry mess with your head. Besides, if she gives Greg a break for something you would have done anyway, you both win.”
I followed my aunt to the door, where we found Maggie sitting on the porch rail, sunning herself. I closed the door, blocking Emma in the house, and went over and picked up the warm cat. She started purring as soon as I touched her.
“I didn’t know you adopted a cat.” Jackie reached out and scratched Maggie between her ears. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Not my cat. She belongs to Esmeralda, but she keeps escaping.” I glanced over at my neighbor’s house. “I worry she’s going to get run over one of these times. You know people fly through here too fast.”
“That’s why Toby sets up just down from your house to pick up speeders. You know that boy has made so much money for the city with his stops the mayor is thinking about hiring him on full-time.” Aunt Jackie kissed me on the cheek. “I hope that doesn’t happen soon. He’s good for our business, too.”
I watched her get into her car and drive toward town; the entire trip would take less than two minutes, even if she had to stop at the entrance to my driveway to wait for a tourist driving into town. Of course, it was Aunt Jackie. She never walked anywhere except in the city. But out in the sticks—her words, not mine—she lived up to her California heritage and took the car everywhere.
As my aunt turned the car out of the driveway and onto the road, I crossed over with Maggie in my arms toward Esmeralda’s. She really needed to keep a better eye on her cat.
Maggie meowed, like she was agreeing with me. I rang the doorbell and listened to the round of church bells echoing through the house. Esmeralda must have finished playing fortune-teller since there wasn’t a car in the driveway. I hoped I wasn’t interrupting a reading or a visit to the other world for someone. I didn’t believe in my neighbor’s ability, but I respected the allure her so-called profession or talent had for bringing tourists to our small town. Including my shop.
The door flew open and there she stood in her full costume, a beaded scarf tied around her head, the beads and small bells mixing in her long dark hair. “Jill, I didn’t expect you today.” She looked down at the cat in my arms. “Oh, Maggie brought you.”
“Actually, I brought her. She was on my porch again. You really need …” My words trailed off as I watched Esmeralda walk away and sit at her reading table.
“Come sit, we’ll find out what Maggie thinks you should know.” She patted the chair next to her and Maggie meowed again.
Seriously? The cat thought I needed to know something? I needed to know how to keep my nose out of the cat’s business, that’s what I needed. I should have sent her with Aunt Jackie. “I’ve got stuff to do.” I turned toward the door.
“Please, Jill, it will only take a second. Maggie won’t give up, and I’d hate to see her hurt while trying to get you to listen.” Her voice was calm, but an image of a speeding car flying toward town came to me.
I closed the door, then put Maggie down on the hardwood floor. Immediately, she ran to the open chair, then jumped onto the table and sat. Her eyes bored into me.
This was stupid. “I really don’t have a lot of time,” I grumbled as I walked toward the chair.
“Laundry can wait.”
I eyed Esmeralda. Maybe the woman had a bug set up in my house, listening to me. Now I was being paranoid. Greg thought he had a leak in the department; maybe I’d be able to find out if his dispatcher was the source of Darla’s information or just a good g
uesser. “Fine.”
I sat in the chair and Esmeralda grabbed both of my hands, pulling them to the table. “Relax, and let your mind wander. I’ll do the heavy lifting.”
I started to giggle, but her harsh look quieted me. I closed my eyes and wandered through the list of names Pat had given me. Kent had been busy his last few months on the earth. I felt sorry for Sherry; no one deserved that type of betrayal.
“You’re on the right path, but the reasons will be different than what appears at first.” Esmeralda’s trance voice broke my thoughts and my eyelids flew open. Her gaze was focused on the crystal ball in the middle of the table.
The ball had been clear when I sat, but now a gray mist floated in the middle. Cheap parlor trick. Then I noticed Maggie watching the ball, as well. This better keep the kitten off my porch and out of harm’s way.
The cat looked up from the swirling mist and meowed.
“A woman scorned. Some are silver and the others gold.” Esmeralda repeated the line she’d given me the last time she’d read for me. Apparently she believed in friendships. Maybe that was the point; the woman wanted a friend. Maybe I’d ask her to go with me and Amy on our next girls’ night out. I glanced at the gypsy outfit. Or maybe shopping in town would be a better start.
The grip on my hands loosened, and I felt the fortune-teller lean back into her chair.
“Sorry about that, I guess I was wrong. Sometimes the spirits don’t want to talk when we want to listen. Do you want to come back tomorrow and we can try again?” Esmeralda picked up Maggie, rubbing her under her chin.
“But you d—” I broke off my statement. It could be like sleepwalking; you were never supposed to wake the guy up unless he was about to walk off the window ledge. “Sure. I’ll talk to you later then.”
I walked the few steps home and wondered if Esmeralda was just messing with me. Had she not heard herself talk? I decided to do some research on the practice. Maybe she did have a gift. She’d been right before, but I’d chalked that up to hindsight. The old camp song echoed in my head … Make new friends but keep the old …
Friends like Pat and Sherry. Or Aunt Jackie and Mary. Or me and Amy. What would you do for a friend? Pat’s visit seemed to be a prime example of a way to be stupid for a friend.
After grabbing a bag of chips and my beer, I pulled out my laptop and looked up the list of names on Facebook. Not Investigation 101, but a good place to start. On the third name, I hit pay dirt. The photo was a group shot with what appeared to be a husband and a cute three-year-old. The woman had been the model who’d slipped out of the Business-to-Business meeting. And according to her last Facebook post, she and her spouse were celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary next week.
She’d have reason to keep the affair secret. And reason to kill Kent.
CHAPTER 11
“Since you can’t make our weekly breakfast date, I brought the food to you.” Amy slapped a bag from Diamond Lille’s on the front counter of the shop. “You can thank me by making me a large mocha with an extra shot before you sit down to eat.”
The smell of gooey omelets and salty hash browns made my stomach growl. I quickly made Amy her drink, then glanced at the door to make sure I didn’t have an incoming customer. Aunt Jackie had mentioned that the Sunday early shift was slow, but this was glacial. I made a mental note to discuss changing hours for the day until the summer tourist season started. “Thanks for the grub. I figured you’d be checking out surfing spots with Justin this morning.”
Amy shrugged and looked down at her cup.
“Whoa. Is there a problem with you and Justin?” I slipped onto a stool and pulled out the Styrofoam cartons that held our breakfasts. Three-egg Denver omelet for Amy and a mushroom and Swiss for me. Both had a generous side of hash browns tucked in next to the eggs. Steam rose when I opened the lid. I guess after being friends for over five years, the girl could order for me as easily as herself. I dug my fork into the cheesy delight and almost groaned when the flavors hit my tongue.
Amy picked a lone piece of ham off the top of her omelet and stared at it like she couldn’t recognize the type of meat she held. Finally she shook her head and popped the cube into her mouth. “He’s been a little jumpy lately since he found Kent’s body. I think he’s staying home this weekend and cleaning his apartment.”
That got my attention. According to Amy, Justin’s apartment looked like the typical campus bachelor pad, filled with pizza boxes and half-consumed sodas. Justin had said life was too short to worry about cleaning a place where he slept and showered. “I’m sure he’ll get over it. It’s not every day you find a dead body.”
She picked up her fork. “I guess. It’s just this isn’t the Justin I knew. I thought he was beginning to think about something more between us. I mean, he took me to meet his parents for Christmas. Now I can barely get him to answer a text.”
I’d remembered the holiday incident. I’d thought Amy was going to have a nervous breakdown when she thought Justin was even thinking of them as a couple. Now she was worried that the relationship was over. I had to get her thinking of something else. Then a plan came to me. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Washing my hair, arranging my closet, maybe reading a book, if I can get my mind to focus. Why?” Amy picked at her hash browns, discarding a bite as too burnt when really it was only crunchy and delicious.
I filled her in on Pat’s visit yesterday and the mystery model’s Facebook page I’d found. When I finished, I realized I’d also finished the omelet, so I took the last bite of potatoes and cleaned up my spot. “So, come talk to her with me.”
“How do you expect to find her? People don’t leave their home address on their Facebook pages. Or at least if they’re smart they don’t.” Amy closed up her own container with the omelet half-eaten and threw the rest into the trash.
I smiled. “I didn’t need her to leave her address. I have a phone book.” I held the local phone book up for her to see. “And they still list addresses in the white pages. How stupid is that?”
I opened the book and found the name on the page. Baker, Thomas and Evelyn. “They live in Bakerstown. Want to come with me on a short road trip?”
Amy eyed me suspiciously. “What does Greg say about this?”
Now it was my turn to avoid eye contact. I went back behind the counter and started restocking the cup supply.
“Jill?” Amy’s voice was hard. “You have told Greg what Pat said, right?”
I threw the empty cup box into the trash. “Which part? The part where she says Sherry’s trying to get him back? Or about Kent’s other girlfriends?”
“Greg’s not going anywhere, you know that.” Amy put her hand on mine. “You do know he’s crazy about you, right?”
“Aunt Jackie said it yesterday, ex-wife trumps new girlfriend.” I pushed back the tears I’d been carrying around all morning. I’d woken up from a bad dream early that morning, and not even a fast-paced run with Emma on our favorite stretch of beach had calmed my nerves.
“In death, not in real life.” Amy fell silent for a minute. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks.” I wiped the back of my hand over my eyes, feeling stupid for letting my fear show.
“Hold on. I’m not done.” Amy swung her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll go with you, if you tell Greg everything before we leave. I don’t care if it’s by voice mail or snail-mail letter. I’d feel better if someone knew where we were going before we disappeared.”
“Aunt Jackie knows the story.”
“And she’s somewhere in the city having fun with Mary.” Amy shook her head. “If this is Kent’s murderer and she gets upset while we’re talking to her, I want to know someone has our backs.”
“Fine, I’ll tell Greg.” I swung a towel over my shoulder. “If you stop freaking about Justin.”
“That’s different.” Amy walked toward the door. When she reached for the handle, I heard her say, “But I’ll try.”
I watched her walking toward the bike rental shop and her apartment wondering when Amy had started feeling this way about Justin. And what the guy was thinking, hurting my friend.
Don’t get involved in others’ problems. It only limits your own potential. The advice from the Tiger Lady’s book echoed in my head. But wasn’t that what friendship was about? Caring for others when they didn’t have the strength to carry themselves? I’d read halfway through the book a few nights ago and had to put it away. The author was self-absorbed and teaching others how to be the same way. Sherry, however, could give this woman lessons. I glanced over at the small self-help section of the bookstore and wondered if there was anything about not letting people walk all over you and not turning into a complete jerk. After wasting all that time reading, I realized my life didn’t have as many problems as I’d thought when I started the book. Maybe being hooked on investigating murders and solving puzzles was one of my strengths rather than a weakness.
The bell on the door kept me from walking over to the shelf and the steady stream of customers kept me busy until Toby arrived at one to take over the rest of the day.
“Hey, boss, you look stressed.” He glanced around the shop; all the tables were filled with tourists. “You should have called me in early. I was just hanging around the house with the girls.”
Toby’s new girlfriend kept him busy with repairs to the small cottage she’d bought the last year. That and playing with Isabell, her daughter. The guy had a full life, especially since he worked two jobs.
“If it got worse, I would have called for help.” I put the back of my hand on my forehead and batted my eyelashes. “You know a woman can’t handle much more.”
“Fine, I get it. You’re a grown woman and I’m just a jerk trying to help.” Toby put on his Wired Up apron and started setting up the coffee bar for his shift. “But my mama raised me to be polite and offer, so I guess you’re just stuck with me.”
