Dressed to Kill

by Lynn Cahoon

  I love Mondays. I’m probably the only person on the planet who does. Except for other shopkeepers like me. Mondays are my Sundays, when I relax with a book, handle chores like bank deposits or mailing packages, or shop for food. The great thing about being off work when everyone else is working is you avoid the Saturday crowds at the grocery store or the dry cleaners. The bad thing? Everyone else is working, so sometimes I craved company on my jaunts.

  I’d finished my shopping in Bakerstown, put away all the groceries for the week, and even had meals planned by the time Aunt Jackie called.

  “I forgot to make the deposit.” No hello, no how are you. Just what she needed.

  I wasn’t playing her game, not today. I hadn’t been able to fit any reading in yesterday, so the rest of my day was devoted to finding out if the new chef in town was going to be able to make a go of her Mexican restaurant. Fictionally, I mean. I made a managerial decision. “Then go to the bank and make it.”

  “Smart aleck, I would, but I’m in San Francisco and the deposit is sitting on my dining room table in South Cove. With all the craziness lately, I’m pretty sure you don’t want that amount of money just lying around, do you?”

  Dreams of sitting on the porch in my swing, sipping iced tea faded. I checked the clock. I had an hour before the local branch closed to commercial business. “You owe me.”

  A chuckle came over the line. “I would think you’d be grateful for such a dedicated employee who would call to correct one tiny mistake.”

  “Whatever.” I hung up the phone and grabbed my purse and the shop keys. I carried an extra copy of the apartment key on my ring, mostly because my aunt kept locking herself out. Instead of walking into town, I fired up the Jeep and drove the few blocks. I swung into the back lot, left my Jeep running, and ran up the outside stairs. Whoever Jackie had gone to the city with must have driven, as her Escape sat in its normal spot. Thoughts of the last week bubbled in my brain, and I wondered if I should have been more inquisitive about her whereabouts. I shook it off. “She’s a grown woman who can do what she wants.”

  I unlocked the door and saw the blue deposit bag right on top of the dining room table where she’d left it. My aunt had decorated the little apartment with high-end furniture and antiques. It looked like a miniature version of her city apartment before she’d been bought out when the building owners decided to renovate the brick structure into expensive condos. Ones that my aunt couldn’t afford due to an unfortunate investment that had robbed her of much of the money my uncle had left. No wonder she’d felt so driven to protect Mary.

  Sending positive thoughts my aunt’s way, I locked the door and hurried to the bank, only slightly exceeding the speed limit. Most of the shops in South Cove were closed on Mondays, except for the bank and the tobacco shop across the street. I parked in front of the building and hurried into the bank lobby.

  A portly man dressed in a security uniform held the door for me. He nodded in welcome, then went back to standing to the side, his hands crossed in front of him.

  Leslie’s line was empty so when I walked up with the blue envelope, she nodded to the doorway. “I see you noticed some of the changes around here.”

  “They really think they need a security guard?” I’d seen guards in banks before, but typically it was for the larger branches. “You don’t get enough business to make it worthwhile to steal from here, do you?”

  Leslie didn’t look up from keying in the checks. “Beats me. Kent always said we were safer without a guard. He said people tend to act stupid around someone in authority.”

  “Well, I guess when a new manager comes in, he’s going to make some changes.” I watched Leslie count out the cash my aunt had so carefully sorted and rubber-banded together.

  “She. The new manager is a she. Although from what I’ve seen, she’s cold as ice. Kind of like that lady who wrote the tiger book.” Leslie handed me my printed deposit slip and leaned closer. “I hear the audit last week had some issues. I guess Kent was dipping his wick into the company till.”

  No wonder the guy could afford all those fancy suits. “Seriously? Why would he risk getting caught?”

  “Who would catch him? The bank’s security system was run by that ex-wife of his. She’s one of the reasons they got the guard.” Leslie leaned closer. “She was caught on tape searching Kent’s office just last week. I guess she set off her own alarm system and had to run before the cops arrived. Ironic, right?”

  That must have been the night she’d shown up at the shop when I’d sent her away. Her face had been red, but I’d attributed it to the chill of the evening air. “What was she looking for, do you know?”

  “No clue, but we’re all on strict operating procedures. We can’t leave our money drawer without checking in with a supervisor, even just to go to the bathroom.” Leslie sighed. “Kent was a piece of work, but at least when he ran the branch, he didn’t make you feel like a potential criminal.”

  “Maybe that’s because he was hiding his own issues.” I thought about Aunt Jackie’s stalker, the travel scam artist, and his separate book of deals. “Cheryl could have been looking for a record of Kent’s thefts. Probably anything that implicated her.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Leslie pondered the idea, but was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder.

  Anne stepped over behind Leslie. “Sorry, I’ve got to close my line. The boss just called me into her office. I guess it’s my turn to get the pep talk.”

  “No worries, sweetie. We’re close to closing up anyway.” Leslie gave her a supportive smile. When Anne went into the office and closed the door, Leslie sighed. “That girl lets things get to her. She’s always worried about something.”

  “You don’t think the manager is letting people go, do you?” I stared at the closed door. When we’d had firings at the law firm, it always happened just before closing time. Even though most of the associates stayed long after official hours ended, the management and clerical staff left at 4:59 p.m. on the dot.

  “If she fires Anne, the woman will have to answer to me.” Leslie looked thoughtfully at the closed door. “She needs to remember what happened to Kent before she goes messing with people’s lives.”

  CHAPTER 21

  When I returned home, a convertible BMW sat in my driveway. I parked the Jeep on the other side of the car and locked gazes with Pat Williams, who stood on my porch. “Now what,” I grumbled as I turned off the engine and climbed out of the car. Pat was in a sleeveless shift dress with a statement necklace to match. Her heels matched the color of the dress and had those platforms on the bottom that used to indicate a woman was in the oldest profession. Heck, I’ll say it. The girl wore hooker shoes.

  When I got up to the porch, her gaze dropped to my jean capris and worn I Love Napa T-shirt. I didn’t have time or the desire for a fashion makeover, at least not from Pat. I leaned against the porch rail, my house keys in my hand. “What do you want?”

  She glanced at the door, realizing I wasn’t going to invite her in to tea, then steeled herself. “I wanted to thank you and apologize for Sherry’s call. She’d been drinking that night, and I didn’t realize until Saturday she’d gotten in touch with you.”

  “You mean to threaten me that she was taking back her man?” My words made Pat squirm just a bit. “Look, you didn’t call me, so no need for an apology.”

  Pat understood my unspoken meaning. “Sherry can be a handful. Honestly, she regrets what happened between her and Greg. I think she’s just trying to make up for what she did to ruin their marriage.”

  I held up my hand to stop the Sherry pity party. “This is so not my business. However, you can tell your friend this, I’m dating Greg now and she can deal with it or not. I don’t want her to call me unless it’s about an agenda item for the Business-to-Business meeting or an order from CBM.”

  “I get that you’re angry”—she started, but I didn’t let her finish the sentence.

  “I’m not angry. I’m just not pl
aying Sherry’s game. If Greg wants to go back to that situation, that’s his call, not mine. And until he tells me our relationship is over, I’m believing him.”

  “Good. I’m glad to see you’re growing a backbone.” Pat smiled at my confused look. “Sherry’s my best friend, but she can be a steamroller. I just wanted to apologize for asking you to get in the middle of this. I should have set boundaries.”

  I wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “At least Sherry’s not a suspect anymore.”

  “Greg does hold his cards tight.” Pat laughed. “So you haven’t heard?”

  I shook my head, not liking where this was going.

  Pat stepped carefully off the step and onto my walkway’s first paving stone. “Conner finally alibied out for the day of the murder. He was in San Diego with his girlfriend, and he has the receipts and pictures to prove it.”

  When I went into the house, I set aside the book I’d been planning on reading, and instead pulled out my list of clues. I hadn’t been updating my notebook since Conner had been arrested, thinking the mystery was solved. Now I had to review the information I’d found out, including the fact that only two people in South Cove owned the poison dart frog. Or I only knew about two people. Maybe you could find the poison online, already packaged up in a nice little box ready to kill someone.

  Okay, it was a long shot, but as I booted up my computer, I knew that Sherry hadn’t killed Kent. All I had to do was convince my boyfriend.

  My alarm woke me out of a dreamless sleep, and as I went about my morning getting ready for work, Kent’s murder kept running through my head. As I ran Emma, I thought about the mysterious redhead in the car. With all the women Pat had given me as Kent’s conquests, no one had the curly flame-red hair that I’d seen when I witnessed their make-out session in the car that afternoon. I knew it wasn’t a wig, not the way they were going at it. I’d worn a wig for Halloween one year, and I never could keep the thing straight on my head.

  No, the redhead was the key. I quickly showered and power-walked down to the shop. Today I was alone, since the morning shift got next to no traffic on a Tuesday. Sasha and Toby would relieve me at noon. If I hadn’t been able to talk to Greg by then, I’d stop by the station on my way home.

  My plan set, I opened the shop and set up for the day. By ten, I’d done the prep, updated the book order list, paid invoices, and set up payroll. I opened my laptop and started searching for Kent’s name to see if he’d ever dated a redhead that showed up on Facebook or Google, when the bell over the door chimed.

  Anne and Leslie marched into the shop. I flipped the cover of the laptop closed. Anne immediately sat at a table away from the window while Leslie headed for the counter. “Two black coffees, large.” She took a ten from her wallet and threw it at me. “Bring them to the table.”

  No chitchat, no please, no banter. Something was up or they were trying to sneak a quick break from the bank. I hurried and poured the coffees and walked them over to the table. “I put these into to-go cups in case you want to take them back to work. Just let me know and I’ll do a refill when you’re ready to go.”

  “She fired me.” Anne took the cup from me and set it in front of her. “That creep kept all the loan transactions but made it look like I was getting all the money, not him.”

  “Anne”—Leslie shot a warning look at her friend—“maybe we shouldn’t talk about this here?”

  “I don’t care who knows. Kent set me up. He said he loved me and we’d never get caught.” Anne started crying. “We were a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde, then someone went and killed him. Now I’m the patsy.”

  “Look, maybe you should be telling this to a lawyer. I can get you a name from my old firm.” Leslie was right, Anne needed to be quiet or all this would be fair game when she was on trial.

  “They’re not charging me. That would be too big of a scandal for the bank. All they’re doing is ruining my life.” Anne traced the CBM logo on the cup. “How am I supposed to get a job without a reference? Who would hire a crook?”

  “Honey, we’ll figure all this out. You just have to have faith.” Leslie put her hand on her friend’s arm.

  “I’ll give you some privacy, but if you want an attorney, let me know.” I stepped away from the table and went back to the counter to add these notes to my list. Of course, Anne added another reason she was on the I-Killed-Kent short list, especially with the frog ownership working against her. Now her overgenerous spending made sense. She’d been making her own money along with Kent. No need to budget like a mere mortal, just add to your disposable income without taking a second job.

  I’d just settled in with a coffee of my own when the bell over the door rang again. Looking up, I smiled. Claire LaRue, the fashion lady I’d met at Sherry’s estate lot sale had made good on her promise. She was halfway to the counter when she saw Anne and Leslie and stopped dead in her tracks.

  I could see her making a decision, but the need for coffee won over what appeared to be shyness—although she hadn’t seemed shy when I’d met her. Maybe she knew the women. Anyway, I was going to welcome her into the shop. I needed all the repeat townie customers I could get. “Claire, I’m so glad you decided to come in today. You can tell I’ll have plenty of time to chat.” I waved my arm around the almost-empty shop.

  Anne and Leslie turned and stared at the newcomer.

  Claire hurried to the counter. “I’m on my way to work and thought I’d get a coffee to go.”

  “Sure, what’s your poison?” I pointed to the menu board. “Mild, Medium, Hard Rock, or do you want something with a touch of flavor? The hazelnut’s really good.”

  “Hazelnut is fine.” Claire took out her wallet and shoved a card at me. She really was in a hurry.

  I charged her order, then turned around to pour the coffee. “You’ll have to come in soon when you have more time. I’d love to hear about your new house.” After adding a sleeve and lid to the cup, I turned back around to find Leslie standing next to Claire, staring at her.

  “You think you’re so smart. I can’t believe you fired her after all she did for the bank.” Leslie’s words were hard.

  Claire took the cup in her hand but didn’t lift it. “She stole money. She covered up for Kent. I had no choice.”

  “Oh, you had a choice, but all you big shots want is to protect the bank.” Leslie’s eyes narrowed.

  “Look, I shouldn’t even be talking to you about a former employee, but it seems like your friend has filled you in on the details. She approved loans for people who didn’t apply for them—heck, they didn’t even exist. Then she and her boyfriend went on spending sprees.” Claire’s shoulders sank. “I know it was probably all Kent, but the bank didn’t give me an option here.”

  “Rules are rules, right?” Leslie almost spit out the words. The bell rang again, and this time when I glanced up from the prizefight going on in front of me, I saw Anne dart out the door. Leslie saw her, too, and headed out after her. She yelled back at Claire, “I’m calling in sick.”

  Claire blew out a long breath, then took a sip of her coffee. “Man, I need this today.”

  “What’s going on? You’re working at the bank?” I motioned to a chair. “Maybe you should sit down. I’m shaky after that scene and I just witnessed it.”

  She sank onto a stool and rubbed her face. Then she took another sip of the coffee before she spoke. “I’m the new bank manager. I was assigned to audit the branch when all the security alerts were reported by the local police.”

  “You mean the security service?” I didn’t think Greg had enough people to report everything that happened in South Cove.

  “No, that was the problem. We realized early on that the security service wasn’t reporting the alarms to anyone. And the system was getting less sensitive with every false alarm.” Claire paused as I realized what she was saying.

  “Cheryl was lowering the system’s alerts to try to get it turned off altogether?” I shook my head. “But why?”

 
Claire laughed and nodded to the now-empty table where Anne had sat. “Another one of Kent’s schemes, we believe. Of course Cheryl’s not talking. He sure had his women trained. They would do anything for him.”

  When Toby arrived for his shift, I filled him in on the morning’s drama while I ate an apple I’d packed for a midmorning snack.

  Toby whistled. “Wow. I knew part of this, but I’d never dreamed Anne would go along with something like this. I knew her sister, Kate, in high school. Anne was a few years older than me, but she always seemed cool at the games when she attended.”

  “Anne thought he loved her.” I finished my treat and glanced at the double chocolate mud brownies in the case. “Maybe I should take a couple of those to Greg.”

  “So you can pump him for information?” Toby packaged up four of the brownies and handed me the Styrofoam container.

  Taking the box, I grinned. “Nope, because I’m a good girlfriend and I know the way to a man’s heart.”

  “Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Toby greeted one of his regulars who tended to walk in just in time to avoid ordering from me. I think the girl sat in her car, waiting to see when he started. She had it bad, even though Toby had been clear he was off the market. Hope can make people do funny things.

  I zipped my coat as the fog hadn’t quite disappeared from town yet. I hadn’t told Toby I needed the brownies to remind Greg about dress rehearsal on Thursday night.

  Esmeralda was on the phone when I entered the station. I laid one of the brownies on a napkin on her desk before knocking on Greg’s door.

  “Hey, you.” He stood up and kissed me. I surveyed his desk. Piles of reports and file folders covered every empty space, along with coffee cups and candy bar wrappers. I handed him the box.

  “Looks like I should have brought you real food, not another treat.” I sat in one of the chairs.

  He opened the box and groaned, taking out a brownie with his fingers and shoving the entire thing in his mouth. Once he swallowed, he sighed. “This will do just fine. You’re the best.”