by Misty Simon
Max chose that moment to step back into my line of sight. He had another bouquet of flowers. I swear, if these were from Darla again, I was just going to burst out into laughter, because I really didn’t think I could take one more thing at this point.
“These are a real delivery from the shop. I didn’t look at the card because Monty said he’d box my ears if I did.” He hovered as he handed over the bouquet.
I had no idea who they could be from. Monty must be rolling in the dough right now. “Thanks. I’ll look at them later. Right now I have to clean up spit.”
The way his mouth turned down and his forehead crinkled made me relent. Now that Psycho Katie had come out to play, I had yet one more person to look out for. He’d saved me from her choke hold and we were partners in this. He wanted to help and there was no reason not to let him. Not to mention, he was growing on me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I had just told myself I wasn’t out to impress anyone, but when this man walked into the room, all those thoughts flew right out of my head as I remembered the weight of his arms on my shoulders and wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked.
And another ally was never a bad thing with all the trouble going on around here. What had happened to flying under everyone’s radar as Tallie Graver, instead of being the spectacle that was Tallulah Phillips III?
Leaving Max to watch over the flowers with my promise to open them as soon as I was done helping Gina, I grabbed a wad of paper towels and did my best to clean up the spit. Gina had gone off to help those who needed to re-wet their whistles, since they were all talking a mile a minute about what had just happened in front of them. Spit was not the worst thing I had ever cleaned up, so I made quick work of it.
Fortunately, Max was still standing guard over the flowers when I was done.
“You ready to open the card?”
He placed a warm hand on my arm. I was shaking a little, fear running through my veins. It could be no one important. It could be my mom, for all I knew. But after everything that had happened, I highly doubted it
“I’m just nervous.” I could have just taken the bouquet across the street and he’d follow me there. But now that my mom probably had ideas about us hooking up, she’d usher him upstairs herself. I didn’t know how I felt about him, beyond being thankful for his support. I certainly didn’t want my mom getting any big ideas.
With a sigh, I pulled out the card.
It wasn’t what it said, so much as who it was from. Darren had sent me flowers with a cryptic message that essentially said I’d better keep my end of the bargain if I wanted to keep my job. Of course, it wasn’t that blunt, but he had signed it himself, which meant no one else had seen it. I would have preferred to keep it that way, but Max was hanging over my shoulder.
“Has he ever sent you flowers before for doing a good job and keeping his things clean?”
“Not before now.” I thought quickly, but didn’t know if I sounded convincing. I still hadn’t told him about Marla/Darla and this was not the time or place to do that. “Maybe this is his way of hoping I stay on now that Darla isn’t around. I might have to pick up his socks, instead of just seeing them crammed into the hamper.” That was my story and I was sticking to it. Much like Katie was sticking to her story. I knew for a fact the other woman was lying, but had no way to prove it.
“Something doesn’t feel right.”
Yeah, it didn’t feel right to me, either, but there was nothing else I could do. A snippet of conversation caught my ear, and I shushed Max with my finger to his warm lips while I listened to the women’s-auxiliary lady bitch that Darren had sent me flowers. Not just me, but a hussy like me. I didn’t know whether to confront her or let it go. I took my own advice, knowing people would think whatever they wanted to think with or without my input.
“Max, this whole thing doesn’t feel right to me, but I’m going to have to ask you to let it go. I have to talk to Burton. I need to try to impress upon him that I didn’t do it so he looks for the actual killer and stun-gunner.”
“But I thought you were leaving that until we could make some connections. He’s going to brush you off, and you know it.”
“I don’t think it matters anymore. I can’t keep looking into this myself. What if I find the killer and I don’t have a prayer of winning against him? Or evidence only after he takes my life too?”
“I can protect you.” He crossed his arms over his impressive chest like a bouncer.
I patted his clenched fist. “Not from Burton, and I don’t need you to. I need to come clean in case anything else happens. You saw Katie. I can’t take any chances.”
“How are you going to get him to take you seriously?”
It was a logical question. And one I’d have to think about when I talked with him and handed over the evidence, since Burton was walking in the door right now.
“Tallie,” he said, just as I was getting ready to duck out the back door to think my way through the bluff I needed to hand over with the evidence.
With a sigh, I turned around.
“We need to talk.” He narrowed his eyes at me and I knew it was not going to be good.
“I need to run across the street. Can I meet you in the back room of the funeral parlor in ten minutes? I have some stuff for you that I think you’ll be interested in seeing.”
Narrowed eyes turned to squinty ones, as if gauging the likelihood of my running.
“I know you can find me no matter where I go, so I’m not going anywhere but that room. Ten minutes.”
Striding out the back door, I was not surprised to see Max keeping pace with me.
“You might want to be far away when I hand this stuff over, tough guy. I don’t think Burton is going to take kindly to you being in town and not announcing your intentions way before now. And this is more than a receipt he won’t accept. This is proof that Darla was the one who probably stun-gunned Waldo, or at least had someone do it for her.”
He stopped on the sidewalk in front of the funeral home. “You’re just telling me this now?” The hurt in his voice was better than censure and I appreciated that, especially after the way we had started off only days ago.
“I haven’t even had a chance to go through everything. But I’m not taking the fall if Burton can’t find another suspect. Now, I’ll give you a chance to run if you want to. I wouldn’t blame you, since I want to run myself. You don’t have to stay.”
“I’ll take the risk. If Katie is going to go ballistic, I plan on being there every step of the way. You should have heard some of the things she was muttering under her breath. I have a feeling she has a thing for your ex and thinks you’re all manner of non-flattering names.”
I strode down the driveway. When had things gotten so complicated?
“Look, you can stay, but if Burton makes you leave, then you have to do as he asks. I don’t want more trouble.”
“You’re going to be in more trouble than you think when you hand all that over to him.”
I wasn’t handing it all over, though. No one but me had to know that.
* * *
Max was still hot on my heels when I opened the apartment door. “I really don’t need a shadow, Max. I’m a big girl.”
“I think you do and I’m not going anywhere. Who knows where Katie went?”
“If I was really afraid, I would have had Gina call Burton and report an assault. Katie has always been a little off and yes, she ripped out some of my hair, but we went at it like that in junior high and still manage to talk to each other.” Although if Katie wanted my ex, then that might be another story. I didn’t care who he ended up with, but Katie’s personality would dictate that she make snide comments about her luxury compared to my destitute-ness as often and as loudly as possible.
Then again, at least I wouldn’t have to see her in the coffee shop anymore. Which was kind of nice when I thought about it that way. We made our way to the third floor. The door swung open seamlessly and Mr. Fleefers shot out fro
m behind it as soon as it began its arc inward.
The cat startled Max, almost making him stumble down the stairs. I reached out to grab his arm and we both almost went down. Oops, I hadn’t taken into consideration how much bigger Max was.
He caught himself on the banister, then wrapped his other arm around me to keep me upright.
I couldn’t deny it felt good to be smack up against him. Parts of me hummed that should no longer have any voice at all. Stepping out of his grasp as quickly as possible seemed the only smart thing to do. And for once I was smart, though I would have preferred being dumb.
“Um, so that’s Mr. Fleefers. Sorry about that. He’s a runner sometimes when someone comes in. He’s not always around, but when he is, he can be skittish.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Max straightened his shirt where I’d had my hand bunched moments ago and ran a hand over his chest.
I would not lick my lips. Would. Not.
“Paperwork!” I nearly shouted to get myself back on track and away from what could only lead to trouble.
But now came the difficult part: what to hand over and what to keep. I rummaged through the drawer where I’d shoved everything and finally decided to try to give over the receipt again, and my thoughts on how it all fit together. Along with my theories, no matter how weak, regarding Katie’s involvement. I’d give him the invoice paper and work on how to tell him about the birth certificate and the legal papers changing Marla to Darla. Perhaps I could lead Burton down the road without actually saying anything. It was as good a plan as any other I’d thought of so far. Taking an invoice was one thing, but taking legal papers felt like it could get me into a whole lot more trouble.
“Let’s go back down.” I closed the drawer and walked past Max.
He yanked the drawer open before I could stop him.
“There’s more in here. What is this?”
“Give me that!”
He had the diary in his hand and flipped through pages with it held over his head, far above my reach.
I thought of stomping on his foot for just a moment before I realized that would be very childish when he was just trying to help. And I needed help, because I was in way over my head.
“Is this why Darren sent you flowers?”
I covered my eyes with my hand. “Probably.” That was completely untrue, but I didn’t know how to tell Max about the connection without looking like a criminal. How much longer would he believe me about the taxes and the embezzlement if I was willing to steal from Darren’s house? “Look, I’m not supposed to tell anyone about any of that. I found it totally by accident. I don’t know if Darren killed Darla or not, but I don’t really think so. Why do it in such a public way?” I dropped my hand.
“You’d be surprised what people will do to not have to deal with divorce,” he said absently as he continued to read the diary over my head. “What exactly is all this? Does Darren know you have this book?”
I didn’t really want to answer that since it just stacked more evidence against me being some kind of wild kleptomaniac. When had I stooped so low?
“I took it because I wanted to know more about the glimpse I had gotten. I couldn’t take the chance of Darren finding me with it. He doesn’t know, but I’ll return it once I make sure it has nothing to do with her death.” I made another grab for the book when I thought he wasn’t paying attention, but I underestimated his agility.
He moved out of my grasp again. “So what’s the story behind this? I don’t see anything more than a list of all the boring things she did every day. She should have gotten a hobby other than watching some shopping channel. Most of this is about her purchases and what accessories she’s going to need to buy to go with them.”
Come clean or not? If he was going to help me—and it appeared he was not going to do anything but that, no matter how often I protested—then I might want to come clean with him.
“Darla wasn’t always Darla.”
That got his attention. He put the book down along his thigh long enough for me to grab it and stick it in my back pocket.
“Explain. You have two minutes before Burton expects you downstairs. If you want me to keep helping you, I need you to fill in the gaps here.” He looked completely unmovable as he leaned against my front door.
Blowing out a breath, I launched in. “Marla changed her name after getting out of high school, from what I can tell, and passed herself off as Darla to land Darren. I don’t know when or how she managed to get the papers all together, but it looks like she started a new identity. To land Darren, she said her parents had died and left her wealthy. He didn’t know anything about it until recently, he said, and now he doesn’t want it to get out because it could damage his reputation.”
Max stuck his hands in his pockets. “But it could have a significant impact on the investigation into her death, Tallie. The probability of someone from her past having caught up with her is high. This opens up a whole new pool of suspects. You have to tell Burton.”
So now he wanted me to tell Burton the one thing I couldn’t, while holding back everything else? Men were such fickle creatures.
“I’m going to have a hard enough time explaining where I got the invoice that shows the threat was written on the same kind of paper Darla had in her possession. I can’t give him the diary and I can’t tell him about the Marla/Darla thing. Darren could be the killer and then he’d come after me. I have to find a way to get Burton to find the information that doesn’t include me. As for the diary, it doesn’t seem to have anything in it but her ramblings.” I wasn’t going to mention the check I still hadn’t cashed. It was bad enough that I knew as much as I did when I shouldn’t.
“But you have to tell him, Tallie. Even if it doesn’t completely get you off the hook, it makes your story have legs.”
I huffed. “I was trying to come up with a way to lead Burton in the direction of the Marla/Darla thing without having to actually say anything directly to him. That way I can’t get in trouble. But I’m coming up empty.”
My cell phone played “Tainted Love” before I could get another word out. Great, just what I needed, a Waldo call in the midst of the rest of this crap.
I hit the answer button. “What could you possibly want that Katie can’t get for you?”
“Jealous, Tallulah?” Waldo asked in his fake-smooth voice.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told your little twit Katie. No—hell no, even. But she’s lying about how she got in the coffee shop and you’re lying about other things, so quite frankly I don’t want to talk to you.”
Max was sawing a hand across his neck in the classic cut it out gesture. But I was done with the espionage, and half-truths, and playing a part I was never meant to play. No matter how much of a pain I had been when I was Mrs. Phillips III, I hadn’t lied this often in my entire life. I couldn’t tell what was truth and who I was allowed to tell what anymore, and it was taking a toll on my mental abilities.
“Well, I need to talk to you. I believe you removed something from my house that doesn’t belong to you. I’d like it back.”
My mind raced with what he could be talking about. The most obvious thing was the receipt, but he had always been stupid about what he did with those. Preferring to send his accountant into epileptic seizures with a stuffed shoe box instead of handing over a neat packet of expenses was Waldo’s MO. I wished I could remember the guy’s name! But what else could it be? I hadn’t touched a thing.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t take anything of yours.”
“You did and if you don’t return it, there’s going to be hell to pay. Think about that and bring it back. Now.” He hung up on me before I could ask any other questions. What the hell was he talking about?
“What does he think you took this time?” Max asked, too close for comfort.
“I have no idea.” I shut down the phone. “I have to meet Burton before he sends out a search party for me, or my mother finds out if he has
any available, wealthy nephews. Are you coming?”
“Right behind you.”
I scooped the receipt and the invoice into my hand, then stuffed the diary back into the drawer at the last second. It wouldn’t do to have that on my person and not hand it over.
Trundling down the stairs, I headed for the kitchen to grab the ever-present plate of cookies my mom would have on the counter. I’d offer Burton tea after he had a fit and needed something to soothe his throat once he’d yelled at me. Another evening of fun. I didn’t know how many more I could handle.
Chapter 9
Burton commanded the back room like a general. His demeanor was different and I wondered what had happened in the last fifteen minutes to have put that scowl on his face. He’d taken the best chair and was settled with his hands steepled on the worn table in front of him. When he saw Max, he raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say a word about him. Thank heavens I’d asked my mom for cookies—maybe they’d take off whatever new chip was on his shoulder.
“My mom made snickerdoodles. I know how much you like them.”
“I do, but they’re not going to get you out of trouble. I just want to let you know that up front.”
My shoulders slumped as I chose the second most comfortable chair and motioned Max into the last chair. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to go well. Especially when he told me I was in trouble before we even got started.
“Let’s get this over with, then.” I fingered the papers in my pocket, wondering what exactly he wanted to talk to me about. I hadn’t had a chance to call for my own meeting yet, so it must be something outside my own evidence. Great.
“I think before we get started you should introduce your friend here.”
“Do I have to?”
“Max.” He shoved out a hand, then waited for Burton to shake it. “I’m an old family friend of the Gravers, just here starting my life again.”
It took all I had to not roll my eyes. That was a horribly lame thing to say to a cop. But Burton seemed to eat it up as he shook his hand.
