Down Home and Deadly

by Christine Lynxwiler

  “So now you think Harvey wants to take your daughter away from you?”

  He nodded, with his back still toward me.

  “Does Lisa know about this?”

  “No!”

  “J.D. didn’t tell her?”

  “No. He probably would’ve. But he died before he got a chance.”

  My heart thudded in my chest.

  He spun around to face me, mindless now of the tears coursing down his cheeks. “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t kill him.”

  “So he wasn’t blackmailing you?”

  “Not really. He just kept reminding me that he had one over on me.”

  The precursor to blackmail. Reason enough to murder someone? Maybe. But I didn’t believe for a minute Bob would kill someone and let his precious daughter take the blame. In my eyes, that fact alone exonerated him.

  I stood and put the key in my pocket. “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded. “Me, too.”

  I left him to his thoughts.

  On the way home, I stopped by Carly’s to tell her what Bob said about Harvey being the killer.

  “You know, as bad as I hate to say this, the same things could be said of Alice,” she said.

  “Alice? You’re just mad because she bosses you around in the kitchen,” I teased her. “And she makes better pies.”

  “Ha. She does not make better pies. She just has more years of practice.” Carly fluffed her short curls. “Just wait until you taste the pies I make when I get as old as she is.”

  “You’re right, though. She does have the same motive.”

  “But not the same opportunity,” Carly said suddenly. “Because Harvey took the trash out.”

  I put my hand to my mouth. “You’re right. He could have shot J.D. then walked right back into the diner.”

  “He would have stayed out there long enough to see you and knock you in the head. But as busy as we were. . .”

  I remembered how long it took anyone to realize I was hurt. “Nobody even would have noticed.”

  *****

  *****

  Chapter Fourteen

  You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.

  “Jen?” Carly sounded harried on the phone. “I have a huge favor to ask.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “Is there any chance you’re going out to the athletic club tonight?”

  “I was planning on it. Why?”

  “The girls and I need a ride to school.”

  “No problem.” The school was out near Bob’s gym anyway. “Is your car torn up?”

  Silence.

  “Carly, you still there?’

  “I’m here,” she said, embarrassment evident in her tone. “Technically, my car isn’t ‘torn up.’ It’s more like ‘out of gas.’ ”

  Any other time, she’d have called Elliott to bring her some gas or give her a ride to school. I certainly wasn’t complaining, but it made me sad to see them drifting apart.

  “I’ll be right over.”

  When I pulled up in front of their cabin, Carly and the girls came running out and jumped in.

  “How long will your school thing last?” I asked when we got on the road.

  “It’s an open house,” Rachel said from the backseat.

  “So there’s no set ending time,” Hayley finished.

  I glanced at Carly. “In that case, why don’t you just drop me off at the gym, and I’ll work until you pick me back up?”

  “Really? That would be perfect. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “That’s better than a dum-dum, I guess.” I tossed her a silly smile.

  The girls giggled and Carly groaned. “That was corny, even for you.”

  “Yes, well, I’m getting cornier in my old age.”

  “You only use that term because you know I’ll always be older than you,” she said.

  “You’re probably right.” I swung the car into the almost-deserted parking lot of the Lake View Athletic Club and jumped out.

  Carly jumped out, too, and ran around to the driver’s seat. She gave me a quick hug before sliding in. “Bye, Jenna, and thanks again.”

  She waited to make sure I was inside before leaving the club parking lot. Ordinarily I would think that was overkill, but with a real killer on the loose, I wasn’t complaining. The thought of a “real killer” sent a shiver down my spine and made me glad to hear the hum of voices in the exercise room.

  I shivered again when I started looking at the mess that Lisa had left. Her housekeeping skills were on par with her management skills—although I had a feeling it was more of an “I don’t care” attitude than not being able to do it.

  After I’d been cleaning for a while, Dave stuck his head in the door. “I’m about to lock up. You want me to wait for you?”

  “No, thanks. I’ve still got a little more to do here.”

  He nodded. “Rumor has it there’s a ghost in here late at night, so if you hear anything, get your cell phone ready to take a pic.”

  “If I saw a ghost, the last thing I’d be worried about would be taking its picture.”

  He shrugged. “Your loss. A photo of a real ghost would sell for no telling how much.”

  “I’d rather just have peace and quiet and get my job done. But thanks.” I glanced back at the stack of junk I was sorting through then thought of something. “Oh, and Dave. . .”

  He stuck his head back in the door. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for spooking me before I get locked in here by myself.”

  “Spook the legendary Jenna Stafford? No way.”

  He laughed all the way down the hall. I threw myself back into cleaning. I should have turned some music on, because as soon as I knew he was gone, I started hearing little noises. Creaking noises, swishing noises, ceiling fan noises.

  A scraping sound from the back door might as well have been a cannon shot. That’s the kind of noise that puts all other noises to shame. The kind you can’t ignore or explain away. That was definitely something. I cautiously peeped over the top of the cabinet I didn’t realize I’d ducked behind.

  I heard footsteps, and they were coming this way. No way anyone would have any business in the back room of the club after hours. Well, no one but a cleaning freak like me. Unfortunately, the cabinet was too small for me to crawl into. I wished I’d closed the hall door when I came in here, but all I’d had on my mind was getting the place aired out and cleaned up.

  Suddenly, it hit me. Mama had been wrong. All those times she’d warned me about curiosity leading to an unhappy ending for me, she should have told me that cleaning would be the death of me. That would have saved me a lot of prune hands and sore knees over the years. And tonight it might have saved my life.

  The footsteps stopped at the door. I wondered if my foot was sticking out beyond the edge of the cabinet. If I drew it in, would it make noise? Speaking of noise, was that whistling? A whistling killer? “Yankee Doodle,” no less. Forget my whole death-by-cleaning theory. Mama was right, as usual. Curiosity would kill me. But I had to look. I borrowed a trick from Tiffany and prayed that my “hand” gun would be as unnecessary as hers had been.

  I swung out from behind the cabinet in one fluid motion, bringing my fake gun out in front of me. “Who’s there?” I said in my most commanding voice to the shadow in the hallway.

  “It is Marco! Who is there?” His voice trembled.

  My taut muscles went limp. “It’s Jenna.”

  He stuck his head inside the doorway, and his eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

  “I think that’s my line. I work here.” I frowned. “If I remember correctly, you don’t.”

  “I can explain.” He walked into the room, his face suffused with color. “Or I could, but I do not want to get someone into trouble.”

  I crossed my arms in front of me. “Well, ‘someone’ is in trouble. It’s you. So you’d better start explaining.” I was still shaky from the fright he’d given me, which made me sound tougher t
han I felt. “You came in the back door. Did you break the lock?”

  “No.” Marco sounded shocked at the idea. “I did not break it. That would be wrong.”

  “Then how did you get in?”

  “I used the key.” He dangled a key in front of my face. I snatched it from his hand.

  “Where did you get this key?” I demanded.

  “W–well,” he backed up as if he still believed I had a gun. “I—I will tell you.”

  “Yes. You certainly will tell me.”

  “Promise not to get her into trouble,” he said.

  “I can’t make any promises until I know the whole story.”

  He gave it serious consideration then sent me a tentative smile. “I trust you.”

  I was pretty sure I knew by now who had given him the key. “Sorry I was so sharp with you, but you scared me to death.”

  “I did not know you were here. I would have been quieter.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just tell me why you’re here.”

  “I live here.”

  I’d thought the shock of him walking in on me had been the biggest shock of the night, but I was obviously wrong.

  “Marco, you can’t live here. This isn’t a house. It’s not even an apartment.”

  “Believe me, it is only temporary,” he insisted. “The people I lived with—they got transferred and had to move. I had no place to sleep. I could not stay at the college because I did not sign up for a dormitory room. Besides, the dormitory costs more than I can afford.”

  “So Gail gave you a key and said you could stay here for a while?”

  “Yes. You guessed it.” He nodded. “She has been very kind to me. She would let me stay at her apartment. But it would not look good.”

  “So you’ve been living here for a while?”

  “I was sleeping in my van and taking showers here when I worked here. But after I got fired, Gail said I could stay if I didn’t tell anyone.” His forehead wrinkled. “I hope she is not mad at me. She told me to only come in the back door when the club is empty.” He gave me a reproachful look. “No car is out there tonight. So I thought it was empty. You scared me.”

  “Marco, you can’t stay here anymore.”

  His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Are you going to tell on Gail?”

  Bob had enough on his mind. And Marco staying here hadn’t hurt anything, really. “I’m not sure. Not right now.”

  “So I will move my things back out to my van.” He turned and walked away.

  When he was gone, I picked up my cell phone and made a quick call. “Mama, I know it’s late, but I need to rent a cabin for the night.” I quickly explained the situation to her.

  “We have a couple of empty cabins he can choose from, but you won’t be paying,” she said firmly.

  “Just for tonight,” I agreed. “Then we’ll figure something out.”

  *****

  The next morning, I hurried over to Stafford Cabins as soon as I knew Mama and Daddy would have the office opened.

  The front office was deserted when I walked in.

  “Good morning,” Daddy called. “We’re in the back.”

  I stepped down the tiny hall to the little break area Mama had fixed up. They were sitting at the table drinking coffee. And holding hands.

  I blushed. Would Alex and I still be that much in love after that many years? I had a feeling we would. He was due back from the conference on Saturday. I made a mental note to call him later and tell him how much I looked forward to growing old with him. That done, I turned my attention back to my parents. “You really shouldn’t just call out for anyone to come on back,” I scolded. “I could have been an ax murderer.”

  “I suppose you could have,” Daddy said thoughtfully, looking at Mama. “But I thought we raised her better than that, didn’t you, Elizabeth?”

  Mama nodded, never missing a beat. “Of course, if you were an ax murderer, dear. . .it really wouldn’t matter whether we invited you in or not, would it?”

  I sighed. “Never mind.”

  “Tell us about Marco.”

  “Yes. He was up at dawn, sweeping the office porch and straightening the deck chairs,” Daddy said.

  I smiled, because I could see him doing that. “Well, you know, he came here as an exchange student in high school then managed to get his paperwork to stay on for college. With a limited work visa, he’s living on very little money. He was living with a sponsor family, but the husband was transferred to Little Rock, which left Marco homeless.”

  “Oh my. Bless his heart,” Mama said.

  I nodded. “He’s been sleeping at the club and just eating what he gets at the diner. But he needs a place where he can study and relax.” I looked at them and chose my words carefully. I wanted to be sure they knew that helping Marco was something I wanted to do. Not something I wanted them to do.

  They were staring at each other without speaking. It was one of those looks that made me feel as if there was a conversation going on that I wasn’t a part of.

  I continued, “I was thinking that maybe I could pay a reduced fee for one of the cabins. I know you sometimes do a weekly rate, and I’ve even seen you offer a monthly rate to a few—”

  “Hush, dear, so we can think,” Mama said sweetly.

  I hushed.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked Daddy, her eyes sparkling.

  He nodded. “It’s an answer to a prayer. Cabin 40.”

  I just stared at them. “We don’t have forty cabins.”

  Mama laughed. “You remember cabin 40. We named it that because it’s out in the back forty.” She sipped her coffee and grinned at my still puzzled expression. “In other words, it’s so far from the office we got more complaints than it was worth. So when a storm blew a tree across the porch a couple of years ago, we just moved the tree and closed the cabin.”

  Daddy picked up the story. “We were just talking yesterday about what we were going to do with it. There was some damage to the porch, but the cabin is livable. We can have power hooked back up with no trouble. To pay for his keep, Marco can clean it and work on the porch as he has time. After he finishes that, if he still needs a place to live, we’ve got plenty of other jobs that need doing.”

  I frowned. “So you really do want the cabin fixed up?”

  Mama nodded. “We’ve tried to figure out what to do with it.”

  “It was sweet of you to want to help him, honey,” Daddy said. “But a man needs to earn his own way when he can. Keeps his character strong.”

  “A hand up is much better than a handout,” Mama agreed.

  I smiled at them and gave them each a hug. “I’ll go tell Marco the great news.”

  *****

  I didn’t have to be at work at the athletic club until three, so after I made Marco’s day, I decided I would do what I had promised Debbie and go visit Lisa at Bob and Wilma’s.

  I pulled into the circular driveway in front of the elegant split-level glass and cedar house. Wilma answered the doorbell. She seemed genuinely happy to see me. When I told her why I was there, she ushered me up the wide oak stairway and to Lisa’s barely opened bedroom door. I turned to ask Wilma if she wanted to go in and tell Lisa I was there. But before I could say a word, she’d retreated down the stairs.

  I tapped on the door, and it opened under my knuckles. My guess was that the room hadn’t changed since Lisa was a little girl. A pink ruffled bedspread covered the bed underneath the white canopy. It made me think of Barbie’s bedroom. And there was Barbie, um, Lisa, in bed propped up on some pillows, a romance novel in her hand.

  “Hey,” I said, giving her my best smile. “How are you?”

  “How do you think I am?” she grumbled.

  “Upset, I imagine.” I nodded toward the closed blinds behind the frilly curtains. “Would you like me to open the blinds and let some sunshine in?” I took a step toward the window, and a tiny white fur ball came alive on the bed. Bared teeth and growling, Fluffy did
n’t want me close to her mistress.

  I froze then took a step back. The dog retreated to its pillow but kept its eyes focused on me.

  “No, I don’t need sunshine.” Lisa ignored Fluffy and glared at me. “I just lost a, well, a very good friend. In a brutal way. And now the police think I killed him. I’ll be lucky if I don’t get arrested before I can even attend his funeral tomorrow.” She pinched her lips together. “And I never looked good in orange.” She was probably right; apparently pink was more her color. “So, yes, I’m a bit upset. I think that’s understandable.”

  “It definitely is understandable. But maybe if you got up and went to the gym, you’d feel better. Sometimes getting that adrenaline pumping—”

  She pushed herself up in the bed. “I’m sure you came to interrogate me about something, so why don’t you just get on with it?”

  My eyes widened. “I came to check on you. People are worried about you.”

  “Like who?”

  “Like Debbie.”

  I watched her face, but she had no visible reaction to Debbie’s name. So I forged on. “You and Debbie met J.D. at the same time, right?”

  “Yes, so?”

  “What did Debbie think about him?”

  “She thought what every woman who met him thought—that he was hot. And she was right.”

  “Do you think she was put out that he chose you instead of her? I mean, y’all met him at the same time, you both thought he was attractive, but he chose you.”

  “Well, come on. I mean, I love Debbie and all, but look at her and look at me. Can you see any guy choosing her when I’m available?” She smirked. “No. J.D. was mine for as long as I wanted him. I just had to decide whether I wanted him or if I was going back to Larry.”