Killer Run

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Killer Run Page 7

by Lynn Cahoon


  “Homer’s willing to sell. I don’t know the details, but you could talk to him tomorrow when he picks up the keys.” Aunt Jackie pushed the rest of her dessert around on her plate. “I think it would be a nice addition to the business. There are plenty of festivals around where we could have a presence and draw customers back to South Cove. And we could add more hours to Sasha’s schedule.”

  I shrugged, not wanting to think about expanding the business right now. It seemed like all I did lately was work. And now that my long-awaited getaway with my boyfriend was torched, work would be my focus for a while longer. I knew I was pouting, but I couldn’t get past the hurt feelings, even though I knew Greg had no control over his workload, especially when someone had been murdered.

  Aunt Jackie didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm. “I’m surprised Rachel closed up shop. I didn’t think she had any family in the area.”

  “You know Rachel?” Now, this got my attention.

  My aunt sipped the last of her coffee and set the cup down reluctantly. “She’s scheduled a few local trips for me lately. I’m talking to her about a short jaunt to the Greek Isles next winter, if I can get it cheap enough.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize.” I didn’t know why this surprised me. My aunt knew more people in the area than I did, and she’d lived there only a year. I guess being an introvert bookstore owner could account for my lack of local connections, but honestly, I knew my aunt had the gift of networking, something I’d have to work at for the rest of my life.

  “She’s such a sweet girl.” My aunt put her napkin on her plate. “Are you ready to head back?”

  I nodded, waving the ticket at the waiter. “So, do you know who she’s dating?”

  She paused in digging through her purse and looked up at me. “I didn’t know she was dating anyone. What do you know?” She pulled out a lipstick tube and refreshed her makeup, using her knife for a reflective surface.

  “Rachel said she was seeing someone a few days ago when I called her.” I signed the credit card slip and figured out an appropriate tip. I almost pulled out my phone since I’d downloaded a tip app, but I thought my aunt might laugh that I couldn’t do it in my head. I probably overtipped, but as tired as I was, all I wanted was to get home.

  “Well, all I can say is I’m happy for her. She needs someone in her life. Everyone does.” My aunt stood and took my arm as we walked out of the restaurant and to the car. “You and Greg will have plenty of time for trips. Just be patient.”

  I wasn’t sure my aunt’s wisdom was true, but I didn’t correct her. We headed back to South Cove and our lives.

  On Sunday I only had a few hours to get my life in order before I had to go in to cover Aunt Jackie’s shift. And the food truck guy was supposed to show up to pick up his keys and a check for the rental before noon.

  First things first, I took Emma for a run. The beach parking lot was empty except for the large van and a few cars. I glanced up and down the beach, but apparently, the owners of the cars were tucked in bed and would be retrieving them later. The beach looked pristine, with the waves gently lapping at the shore. No evidence of yesterday’s mayhem was left except for the leftover vehicles. Instead of turning right toward the cove and our normal running path, I turned Emma left toward the entrance to the Mission Walk. Since the path was paved, both Emma and I preferred running closer to the water in the sand, but today, I wanted to check out the greenbelt.

  When I got to the place where Josh had found Sandra’s body, I pulled out a small digital camera I’d brought on the run just for this. It wasn’t like I was going to be involved in the investigation, I assured myself. Only even I didn’t believe me this time. I snapped several overall shots, and as I was focusing the shots, I realized the little outlet where Sandra’s body had been found was just a few feet from the highway. And someone had carved a path through the shrubbery from the road to the greenbelt. I tightened my grip on Emma’s leash and walked toward the road.

  A small turnout that could hold a car or two greeted me as I came up the gully to the highway. This early on a Sunday morning, the road that curved up and down the California coastline was empty, but there had been people parked here yesterday, I could almost bet on it. I took a few shots and then turned back to the path leading down to the greenbelt.

  A flash of white under a bush made me pause, and I reached down to find a soda cup from South Cove Winery. I tucked the cup into a sack I carried for trash pickup and returned to the greenbelt, this time letting Emma off the leash and running back toward our normal path. I don’t know what I expected to find, but I felt a tad disappointed in the lack of any type of clue as to why Sandra was found on the greenbelt. Maybe I was losing my touch for this type of puzzle.

  I brushed the idea away, and as we broke from the tree-lined greenbelt onto the sand of the beach, I picked up my pace. This was my time, and I wasn’t going to let anything distract me.

  By the time Emma and I had returned to the house and I’d showered and eaten a light breakfast, I had just enough time to start some laundry and check my to-do list for the day. I crossed off anything I’d written last week about the trip, like Pack, or Cancel Mail Delivery. I glanced at my phone: no return call from Rachel yet. No matter what kind of past Greg and Rachel had, I was positive a refund at this stage of the planning was impossible. I added a few things to my list for tomorrow, like a trip to Home Heaven, Bakerstown’s hardware-slash-home-repair mecca to pick out a paint color and supplies.

  After I returned home tomorrow, I’d clean out the spare bedroom, haul boxes down to the garage, and totally empty it out. I wanted a wrought-iron bed frame, so I added a trip to Antiques by Josh to my list, if he opened the shop this week. And I really wanted to find a homemade quilt and rag rug, but I’d have to locate a flea market to score those items. Good thing I had five days off starting on Tuesday. I might just get the room completed and still have time to sit on the beach and read for a day or so.

  Happy vacation to me.

  CHAPTER 7

  A knock on the door rousted me from my couch and the contemporary romance I’d been reading. I loved the way the author painted the Oregon coastline in this series, and the little town was one I’d move to in a heartbeat. Emma stretched and joined me at the door.

  I peeked through the window and saw a man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. This must be the guy about the food truck, but just to be sure, when I cracked the door open, I asked, “May I help you?”

  “Ms. Gardner? I’m Homer Bell. Your aunt said I could pick up the keys and my check today?” The man nodded his head in greeting.

  I stepped out on the porch with the keys and an envelope I’d had ready on my foyer table. “Thanks for the loan of your truck.” I handed him the items. “I’ve heard you’re interested in selling. Do you have an asking price?”

  The man broke into a grin. “Not yet. When your aunt asked me, I was a little surprised. I’ve had the notion to sell out for over a year. Now that I’ve made the decision, I get two interested parties in less than three days. I’m researching the truck’s value and will call you late next week.”

  “Oh, I thought …” I paused, not wanting to say I thought he was giving us a deal just to get rid of the pink van. “I mean, that will work fine. Who is our competition, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  He tucked the envelope into his shirt pocket. “Actually, the other party has asked me to keep their interest quiet. I probably shouldn’t have even said anything, but I was so excited when I got the call this morning. Your little town is full of surprises. I should have visited sooner.”

  I thanked him for stopping by to pick up the keys and then watched him return to a small compact car where a female driver was waiting. “Interesting,” I said to Emma.

  She let out a short bark, which could have meant, “You got that right.” But probably, she just wanted to go outside. When I opened the back door, she bounded outside. So much for my mind meld with the canine famil
y. I went to the fridge and grabbed the makings of an omelet and a fruit salad to eat before I went in to work. I turned on the small television I kept in the kitchen and listened to a cooking show while I made my lunch.

  When I showed up at the shop, Sasha was sitting on the couch reading a new YA dystopian release. She’d hadn’t ordered anything for the next month’s book club yet, and I knew she was struggling to make just the right choice. I pulled on an apron and washed my hands before pouring my own cup of coffee, which I took over to the chair next to her. “You just need to make a decision.”

  “I know, but attendance is down, and I really want to bring the kids back this month.” Sasha sighed and set the book down with a bookmark in the middle to mark her place.

  “Attendance is down because it’s summer. Aunt Jackie’s mystery book group typically takes August off because there are so few of the members in town. You don’t have to pack the room every month.” I pulled the book she’d just closed toward me. “This is getting great reviews online. What are your other choices?”

  Sasha grinned and pulled two books out of her tote bag. “I’m torn between this modern fairy tale, a book about a high school geek squad, and that one.”

  “Which one did you like the best?” I touched the cover on the fairy tale, loving the wispy blues running through the picture of the girl dressed in a long flowery dress.

  “I loved that one, but I’m afraid the boys in the group will rebel.” She leaned back in the couch. “It’s hard to please everyone.”

  I pushed the books back toward her. “Then don’t.”

  “I don’t understand. You want me to give up on the book club?”

  I laughed at the panic in her face. “No. Just let them choose any one of the three for next month. Have them put in their order at the next meeting.”

  “But how will we talk about three books?” Sasha shook her head. “It will be chaos.”

  I glanced around the shop. “Actually, you can divide it up into a group here, one in the dining area, and a third out on the sidewalk tables. You’ll need a leader for each section, but if you don’t get a kid to volunteer, you can have Toby or me come in.”

  “I like it, kind of choose your own adventure.” She tucked all three books into her tote and checked her watch. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  “I’m good at solving problems, that’s all.” I nodded to the door. “And you need to get home so you can have an evening with that amazing kid of yours.”

  The rest of the night was as slow as it had begun. A few stragglers from the race weekend stopped in for a drink to go before heading home. I e-mailed an order for Sadie’s Pies on the Fly, ordered more books, and even double-checked the accounting program per my aunt’s request. I had just finished the novel I’d been reading and was wandering through the stacks to see if there was something else when the bell rang over the door.

  Darla and Matt came into the shop, holding hands. Matt had been Darla’s intern last summer, and like Sasha, the winery had found a permanent employee through the jobs program. But there was another reason Matt was tied to South Cove, and that was the budding romance between him and Darla. She caught me looking at their entwined hands and blushed. I walked toward the counter. “Hey, you two. I didn’t expect to see you out on your day off.”

  Darla slipped her hand out of Matt’s and climbed onto a bar stool in front of me. “We were taking a walk when I got a call from Adam.”

  “The California Mission Society Adam?” I leaned on the counter and put my head between my outstretched arms. “How bad is it?”

  “Why do you both think the worst?” Matt sat next to Darla. “Pour us two iced teas to go and box up a cheesecake. I’m barbequing ribs tonight for dinner, so we need something sweet to end the meal.”

  I lifted my head and nodded. “You’re right. It could be good news. But if it was, Darla would have just called.” I poured the teas and then opened the display case. “Chocolate or huckleberry?”

  “Huckleberry.” Darla sipped her tea. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad. The mission society board has requested a meeting with you and me tomorrow morning. Can you be at the winery at nine? Unless you’d rather have the meeting here?”

  “The winery’s fine. I don’t want to appear to drive-bys like we’re open. My local commuter traffic has been lobbying for open hours on Mondays.” I boxed up the last huckleberry cheesecake and rang up the food and drinks. “The demands on a small business owner: be open twenty-four-seven, and carry everything the customer could ever want.”

  “You’re doing great with the store. If they want coffee on Mondays, they can stop by Lille’s. You supply their beans anyway, don’t you?” Matt gave me a card, and I finished the purchase. It had been my largest sale since I’d walked in the shop at two.

  “I doubt Lille’s advertises that fact.” I focused on Darla. “Have you heard anything about her expanding the diner?”

  “Not a peep.” Darla frowned. “What have you heard?”

  Matt pulled her off the stool and aimed her toward the door. “Okay, Katie Couric, take off your journalist hat. It’s date night, and I’m cutting you off.”

  I laughed and waved as the two left the shop. Just outside, Matt pulled Darla into a hug and planted a quick kiss on her lips. Sweet. At least someone was having a date night. I started the closing chores, and by seven, the shop’s lights were off and I was power-walking my way home, a dozen chocolate chip cookies from the display case in tow, just in case Greg decided to stop by for a late visit.

  Hope springs eternal and all that.

  I still had six cookies the next morning when I made coffee since Greg hadn’t called or shown up. If I didn’t hear from him by noon, I would call to see if I could entice him to stop by for a quick dinner. Even detectives on murder cases needed to eat, right?

  The phone rang as I took a bite of the first cookie of the day and I quickly swallowed. “Hello?”

  “Jill, sorry I missed you.” The female voice on the other end of the line was all bright and shiny, which made me sorry I’d answered the phone. Today was turning out to be anything but a fun day off.

  And no one should be happy on a Monday morning, unless it was someone who, like me, had the day off. The woman paused, waiting for my response.

  “Who is this?” I knew I sounded irritated, but it was only seven thirty. I hadn’t even taken Emma for her run yet, nor drunk a full cup of coffee.

  “Rachel. From the travel agency? Sorry to call so early, but I’m still out of town and I wanted to let you know I’m trying to get your trip refunded.”

  Great, now I felt like a total jerk. The woman was only trying to help and I was snapping her head off. I took a breath and softened my tone. “I’m glad you called. Is everything okay? Your neighbor told me you had a family emergency?”

  The line was quiet for a second. “Oh, you talked to Cathy? I adore her to death, but the woman can be a bit of a gossip. Actually, my cousin is having health problems and I’m babysitting her kids.”

  I hadn’t seen Rachel as much of a mothering or babysitting type, but I’d only met the business side of her. “I hope she’s getting better.”

  “Definitely. I’ll be back home soon. And hopefully I’ll have a check for you when I return. Sorry about the trip. I know Greg was really looking forward to getting out of town for a few days.”

  I shrugged, even though Rachel couldn’t see my reaction. “Not your fault he has to work.”

  The line quieted, and I wondered how many times her plans with Greg had been cancelled because of his work. I guess I was preaching to the choir here. No use being the sore loser. “I guess I can’t blame him. You know, the safety of South Cove is a high priority.”

  I felt the pause on the line. “So, did he say why he couldn’t leave?”

  Now I felt a pang of guilt. I knew, but until the death was announced to the public, I needed to keep my mouth shut. “Not a clue.”

  I heard someone on the other si
de of the line call out Rachel’s name. A male voice, and I wondered about her claim to be out of town for family. Maybe this was a love shack getaway? “Well, I’ve got a meeting soon. Thanks for calling.”

  Rachel’s good-bye was quick, and then the line was dead. Well, there went another happy couple for not just date night, but probably date weekend. Darla and Matt, Rachel and mystery man. Amy and Justin had gone surfing yesterday. Even Aunt Jackie and Josh had spent time together, although I couldn’t say visiting someone in the hospital was my idea of a good time.

  Emma put her nose in my hand and whined. “I know, girl, you love me.”

  She barked, then ran to the door. Clearly, she loved running and I was her companion. I tied my running shoes and devoured the rest of the cookie. Time to push out the pity party and run to clear my head.

  I made it to the winery with five minutes to spare, only by driving instead of walking. I had to go to Bakerstown afterward, so it had only made sense. I pulled out my notebook and a pen and headed into the tasting room.

  The room smelt like lavender and mint, and I realized the reason was the centerpieces on each of the small tables set up around the room. Unlike my shop, South Cove Winery was open seven days a week, even though they had shorter hours at the beginning of the week. Locals loved stopping by for a glass of wine or other adult beverage without the tourist crowd that would come later in the week.

  No one was in the tasting room, so I wandered toward Darla’s office, where I found Matt with a plate of fruit and a pitcher of orange juice heading to the small conference room next to the main office.

  “Hey, Jill.” Matt nodded toward the open door. “We’re all set up in there. Can I get you something to drink besides OJ or coffee?”

  I shook my head. “Coffee will be great.” I paused at the door and took stock of the players already seated around the table. Adam and the other man who’d thrown such a fit about the mandatory online sign-ups were on one side of the table. Oscar, his name was Oscar. Michael Ashford sat next to Adam. Michael looked pale and disheveled, like he’d been in the same suit for the last week. Darla sat on the other side of the table, pen in hand tapping her notebook.

 

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