My pen flew across the paper. I knew these ladies wouldn’t fail me.
“Don’t forget that new cop in town,” Betty pointed out. “No one knows anything about him. He’s too pretty for his own good. That kind of good looks on a man often hides an evil heart, no offense, Marsha. We all know Duane is the best looking man in town, but he has a heart of gold. Why, if I were thirty years younger—hubba hubba.”
“Stop it, you old flirt.” Dottie, winner of the last two years beauty pageant at the retirement home, hated anyone to upstage her.
“You pink haired old biddy!” Betty tried pushing back her chair. Her toothpick arms barely budged her.
“I pay a lot of money for this shade. It goes with my porcelain complexion. You’re just jealous.” Dottie did succeed in getting to her feet.
“You just wait until I get up.” Betty’s chair moved an inch.
“Ladies.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “We’re on the same side here. If we’re going to catch the person who killed Mrs. Grimes, we have to work together.”
“Fine.” Dottie sat back down. “But I want it on record that I’m working with Betty in protest.”
“Me, too!” Betty glowered.
The bell over the front door jingled, releasing me from comic hell. I hurried to wait on the customer. Stacy sashayed into the store. Maybe I’d prefer the old ladies.
“Can I help you?” I pasted on a smile.
“This is the day the women get together and craft, isn’t it?” She held up a shopping bag. “I’ve come to craft.”
“They’re working on quilts today.”
“Wonderful. I’d like to learn.”
Snoop and dig for newsworthy information was more like it. I wasn’t worried. The ladies would clam up the moment Stacy strolled in. My heart clenched. I shouldn’t act that way. Maybe Stacy was turning over a new leaf and actually wanted to help people. I shot a quick prayer for forgiveness heavenward and followed the sweet perfumed scent trail to the back room.
“This day just keeps getting better.” Betty tried getting up again. “Will someone please help me to my feet?”
I rushed to her side. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”
“I’m going to powder my nose.” She glared at Stacy on her way past.
“What’s her beef with you?” I resumed my seat.
Stacy shrugged. “I posted a nice little tidbit about shoplifting in the paper a month ago. Seems our dear Mrs. Larson was supplementing her income by selling stolen goods.”
Really? I glanced at the restroom door. You never could tell with some people.
Stacy set out several unopened packages of craft supplies. “What does a person use for quilting?”
“A needle and thread.” Mom rolled her eyes and handed Stacy a pieced together pillow top. “You can learn by quilting this. Just sew in the rows.”
Stacy grinned. “I can do this. After all, it can’t be different than sewing on a button.”
Dottie snorted. “Aren’t you the clever girl? Do you have a tape recorder in that bag of yours?”
“You wound me, Dottie, you really do.” Stacy stuck her tongue out and narrowed her eyes, trying to slip thread through the eye of a needle. “I’m more than a pretty face and a reporter, you know.” Her gaze fell on my notes. She made a grab for the paper, but I snatched it up before her fingers grasped hold. “What’s that?”
“A shopping list.” I ripped off the top page and shoved it in the pocket of my apron. If Stacy got a hold of the list of suspects, the whole town would see it in the morning’s paper.
Her face fell. “I don’t take everything to the paper. We didn’t print about Bruce receiving a warning for you to stay out of this latest investigation. That would endanger your life further, and the paper isn’t about that.”
The group’s voice rose in alarm. I sighed. I’d wanted to keep the threat against me a secret. “How did you find out about that?”
Stacy gave a thin smile. “I have my resources. Why don’t you let me help you this time? As a reporter, I have good investigative skills.”
She had a good point, but my distrust of her went back to high school when she’d try to steal Duane away from me. Could I let that go and accept the help she was offering?
Everyone remained silent and waited for my answer. I looked around the table at each of their dear faces. I didn’t want to draw anyone else into the danger I felt creeping up behind me. Why had I been the one to find Mrs. Grimes? Why had I stepped forward to continue with a book fair that wasn’t in a volunteer’s job description? Because I felt this overwhelming need to prove myself. Since my first husband’s death, I’d strived to be the best at everything: a mother, a daughter, a business owner, and now a solver of crime. Why couldn’t I be happy with the things other people were happy with?
Did it have something to do with marrying Robert out of spite because his brother, my true love, had deserted me for bigger things? Did I feel like I needed to be something more in order to keep Duane from leaving again?
“It’s dangerous.” I’d made my decision. If Stacy wanted to help, she might have resources unavailable to me.
“I’m up to the task.” She glanced around the table. “Will y’all have me?”
The women glanced at each other, then as one, they nodded.
“But if we find one thing said in private printed in that paper, you’ll have to answer to us,” Betty said. “That will not be pleasant for you.”
Stacy grinned. “No, I imagine it wouldn’t.”
I couldn’t shake the feeling we’d turned a corner, Stacy and I. A dark corner full of danger and death.
The women cleaned up their supplies and left, chattering like a bunch of teenage girls over the things discussed that morning. Like the crusty dears they were, they included Stacy in their conversation as if she’d always been a part of their clique. My heart swelled. Each and every one of those old ladies held a special place in my heart, even more so after a killer had put a bulls eye on every one of their backs a few months ago.
Through luck, determination, and God’s grace, I’d managed to keep them safe. Maybe that was the real reason I put myself in harm’s way. To protect the ones I loved from being taken from me before their time.
I folded the quilt top and placed it safely on a shelf until next week. I wasn’t sure what Stacy intended to do, since we’d accepted her but not filled her in on our suspects. If she didn’t know who we were watching, how could she investigate? I glanced at my watch. Lunch time. “Mom, I’m heading to the coffee shop for a sandwich. Do you want anything?”
“Yeah, one of them Panini things and some mango tea.” She carried the snack tray to the sink. “When you get back, we’ll come up with a game plan to check out everyone on that list.”
Good ole’ Mom. Always thinking. I slung my purse over my shoulder and dashed across the street.
A dark sedan roared toward me. I leaped onto the sidewalk. As the car sped past, I spotted a swath of baby blue paint across the fender. That was the car that had run me and Mom off the road.
Instead of entering the coffee shop, I sprinted down the sidewalk, dodging window shoppers. The car stopped at the red light. My lungs burned. I had to get close enough to see through the tinted windows. If I could catch a glimpse of the driver, I’d know who the killer was.
The light turned green and the car moved down Main Street. The knowledge I might be close to knowing the killer’s identity spurred me on. I leaped over the leash of a dog tied to a fire hydrant and tried to ignore my gasping breath. I really needed to get in better shape.
The car slowed and turned the corner. I took a short cut through the alley. Chasing a possible murderer might not be the smartest thing I’d ever done, but I didn’t stop to put much thought in my actions. I kept my eyes and mind on the goal. The car passed the entrance to the alley.
The whoop of a siren sounded as I burst from the alley. I swerved to avoid running into Bruce’s squad car. The slam of a door
told me he was following. Wonderful. Someone called the police about a suspicious character running the streets.
“Stop!” Bruce called.
Since he didn’t add “or I’ll shoot” I kept running. His footsteps pounded behind me.
I tripped over a tree root and went sprawling on my hands. Concrete scraped the skin from my palms. I rolled over to my back and glared at my pursuer. “Catch that car. It’s the killer.”
He took one look at me and dashed away. Thank goodness, for once in his life, he didn’t stop to ask a lot of questions.
I got to my feet and wiped my bloody hands on my thighs. I was going to throttle Bruce when he came back, which unfortunately was seconds later.
“Dogs chase cars, Marsha,” he said.
“I almost had the killer.”
“What would you have done with them once you caught them?” He glared.
“Shoot them.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bruce didn’t have to look so shocked. I wouldn’t really have shot them.
I limped down the sidewalk to the coffee shop and headed to the restroom in back. After washing the blood from my hands and skinned knees, I was more ready for caffeine than before. A chocolate java might ease the pain of the knees being ripped out of my new jeans. My raw hands burned.
“Hey, Marsha.”
I turned to see Officer Wilson at a corner table. “Officer Wilson. It’s good to see you.”
He stood and wound through the tables to my side. “I heard you’re looking for a new car.”
“Yes, sir.” I slid a twenty-dollar bill across the counter. “Something with good gas mileage.”
“I’ve got a little jeep that used to belong to my brother. It’s a ninety-five but has a new engine and it’s been well cared for. You can have it for five thousand.”
“Really?” That would leave money left over after the insurance settlement that I could spend on the wedding. “When can I look at it?”
His gaze landed on my ripped jeans and skinned knees. “Maybe you should go home and change first.” He jotted his address down on the back of his business card. “I’m home all day.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed the carrier with mine and mom’s lunches then headed back across the street to the store.
“What the heck happened to you?” Mom paused in her sweeping. “You were gone too long for merely going across the street.”
I set the carrier on the counter. “The car that ran us off the road almost hit me when I was crossing the street. I ran after it, but Bruce got in the way so the car drove off.” I wrapped my hands around my cup, the cold of the blended drink soothing my torn skin. “Then, I saw Officer Wilson in the coffee shop, and he said he has a jeep I can look at later.”
“You need a race car so you can outrun the fool in the sedan.” Mom propped the broom against the wall and reached for her sandwich. “Does the jeep have four wheel drive?”
“I don’t know, why?”
“Because then if someone wants to run you off the road, you can actually go off the road.”
I shook my head at her logic. The last thing I wanted was another face-to-face meeting with a tree. My knees screamed as I lowered myself in a chair. Duane was going to have a fit when he got a look at me. The knees I could hide—the hands, not so much. It wasn’t near cold enough outside for gloves.
The phone on the counter rang. I reached for the receiver and brought it to my ear. “Country Gifts from Heaven.”
“Marsha? This is Stacy. Can you meet me tonight? I have some news I think you’ll be interested in.”
I sat up straighter. “Of course. I’m picking up a jeep from Officer Wilson. I can come over—”
“Don’t say anything to him about meeting me, okay? You can’t trust…” Her phone crackled.
“Trust who? Hello?”
More static. “Know…map…watching.” Her voice lowered. “I really think---Gotta go. Meet me at eight o’clock … football field.” Click.
I stared at the receiver. “That was weird.”
“Who called?” Mom asked.
“That was Stacy. She has some information for me, but the phone kept cutting out. I’m supposed to meet her tonight at the football field.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I shook my head. “I’ll head over there after looking at the jeep.” Could I trust Stacy? I thought so. Meeting her could be a trap, but what did she have to gain? Why lure me to the football field? If she wanted to hurt me, she could catch me on my way home from work. None of it made sense. The last place I wanted to meet anyone after dark was the field. The lights would be off since there was no game.
Was that why she’d chosen the spot? She needed a dark and secretive place? Maybe she did intend to bash my head in. “I think I do want you to come with me. No, never mind.” If it was a trap, I didn’t want Mom in harm’s way. “Isn’t there football practice tonight?”
“Yes. It’s over at eight. Once you make up your mind, let me know.” Mom disappeared into the supply room.
There should still be people milling around the field when I met Stacy. Good. My nerves settled, and I set to work on my ham and cheese Panini sandwich. There was absolutely nothing to worry about in regards to meeting Stacy. Especially since Mom knew where I would be going, and I’d let Duane know. I’d be perfectly safe.
*
I arrived at the field at a quarter to eight in my new-to-me red jeep iand, since I didn’t see Stacy’s car, sat in the bleachers to watch the last few minutes of practice. Duane glanced my way and waved. As a teenager, I’d spent many an evening doing the very same thing, except Duane was one of the boys practicing and not the coach.
At two minutes until eight, I clomped my way down the bleachers. Stacy had said football field in her call. Had she meant the bleachers, behind the restrooms, the snack bar? As the football players jogged off the field, I moved to the track that circled the field of green. There was no way Stacy could miss me now. I was the only person around.
A chilly breeze ruffled my hair, and I pulled my dark hoodie closer around me. Soon, the lights would go out, and I’d be truly alone on a massive field. The idea didn’t appeal to me.
“Hey, beautiful.”
I turned to greet Duane. “Hey yourself. You haven’t seen Stacy, have you? I’m supposed to meet her here.”
“Really?” His eyebrows rose. “I thought you couldn’t stand her.”
“We have a truce. She really wants to help solve the murder of Mrs. Grimes.” I shrugged. “Who am I to say no?”
He drew me close for a quick kiss. “Meet me in the parking lot when you’re finished. We can grab a quick bite somewhere. I’m starving.” He released me and loped in the direction of the boy’s locker room.
I turned in a slow circle. Where was Stacy? It was now ten after eight. I decided to leave the field and check the more secret places. My footsteps were muffled as I left the rubber track, lending to the mood that I was the only person left in River Valley. Until I heard raised voices from under the visitor’s side bleachers.
Changing direction, I increased my pace across the field. I’d reached the halfway point when the lights went out and the sprinklers came on. You have got to be kidding me! I dashed across the field and skid to a halt on the other side.
Water dripped from the ends of my hair onto my already soaked shirt. I needed to find Stacy fast before I froze to death. “Stacy!”
“Marsha, help!” Her cry came from the far end.
I grabbed one of the poles they used to mark where the football landed during the game and dashed to the rescue. Since I had nothing on me but my car keys and cell phone, any weapon was better than none.
Footsteps pounded. Mine or someone else’s. I careened around the corner of the bleachers.
Stacy lay on her back, a knife protruding from her chest. She reached out a hand for me. I dropped the flagged pole and fell to my knees before digging in my pocket for my phone. I sent Duane a quick text
and then dialed 911.
“You’re … next.” Stacy gripped my shirt and pulled me down. “Said … watch …your back.”
I glanced behind me as spiders skittered up my spine. “Who said that?”
“911 what is your emergency.”
“I’m at the River Valley football field. Visitor side bleachers. Someone stabbed Stacy Tate in the heart.”
“Where is that person now?”
“Stacy or the killer?” Because it was now a second murder. Stacy’s lifeless gaze penetrated mine even as her chest failed to rise with another breath.
“Police and medical personnel are on their way. Please stay on the phone.”
“Hurry.” I whipped my head from one direction to the other fast enough to give me whip lash. Stacy’s whispered warning would haunt my dreams. I was next. How long did I have?
A car door slammed from the direction of the parking lot. The killer was leaving, I hoped. Still, I scooted to a spot where bars that held up the bleachers crisscrossed in a thick enough pattern it would be hard for someone to sneak up and stab me in the back.
“Ma’am, are you there?”
“I’m here.” My throat constricted. My breath came in gasps.
“Are you in danger?”
“I don’t know! I’m sitting here next to a dead body. I very well could be in danger.”
“Is there a safe place you can go?”
“Not without stepping out into the open.” Who was this woman? Why did she keep asking me questions? Conversation was the last thing on my mind. Oh, God, please keep me alive.
Sirens pierced the night. Blue and red flashes of light filled the parking lot with false gaiety.
A hand landed on my shoulder.
I screamed and dropped my phone.
“Shh. It’s me.” Duane pulled me into his hands as the operator screamed if I were all right. “Are you okay?”
I buried my face in his shirt as Bruce and Officer Bradford charged under the bleachers. Behind them came three paramedics with a stretcher. “Stacy is dead. I got here seconds after she was stabbed.”
His arms tightened around me. Nothing on earth made me feel safer than Duane. “I’ve got you. Let’s get out from under here and wait for Bruce up top. Why are you soaked?”
The Librarian's Last Chapter (A River Valley Mystery, Book 3) Page 8
