Liquid Lies

by Lois Lavrisa

  I got back on task. “So what did you find out?”

  Jacob stuck his hands in his pocket. “He’s not your guy.”

  “What?” I was discouraged.

  “He lives in the next town, is as poor as a church mouse, and has never met Francesca,” Jacob said.

  “What about that wad of money?” I asked.

  “It was payday. He had just cashed his check,” Jacob said.

  “Rats,” I said.

  “Sorry.” Jacob trailed his hand on my shoulder.

  “No, I mean thank you. I’m just disappointed that he wasn’t the guy I’m looking for,” I said.

  “Listen, it’s been an electrifying hour, but I have to go. Can I interest you in dinner later, say six? My place? I grill a mean burger.” Jacob gave me his address.

  “Thanks for your help, and I would love a mean burger. The nice ones are overrated,” I said.

  ***

  Spending a few hours alone at home, writing and rewriting the eulogy resulted in nothing more than a dozen balls of crumpled paper lying next to the trash can in my bedroom. Skipper was snoozing at the foot of the bed where I was plopped with a legal pad. Why can’t I compose anything worthwhile?

  The service was going to happen at six tomorrow evening, whether I had a proper eulogy ready or not. And I was determined to find her killer. My gut said that that Francesca’s death had to do with the trucker murder. I was just as much a part of that as Francesca was. A strong sense of responsibility and guilt compelled me to act. Regrettably, I had chosen to drag Mark along for the ride.

  I freshened my makeup and ran a brush through my hair before I headed over to Jacob’s place. It turned out to be a cozy looking red brick townhome. He answered the door on the first knock.

  “You look great.” He led me into the kitchen. “I just fired up the grill. Do you want something to drink?”

  Feeling like a school girl with a huge crush, I studied his shiny dark brown hair that swept up in a slight curl against his neck. His green eyes seemed deeper than I remembered. His faded jeans hugged his firm round bottom. Was Jacob just a distraction for me? Was it just a rebound after my fiancé dumped me? I couldn’t trust myself. “Beer?”

  “Bottle or can?” Jacob plucked a cup from his cupboard. “Or I’ve got this fancy plastic ware.”

  “No. I’m easy.”

  “I’m glad to know that.” Handing me the bottle, his hand lingered for a moment on mine. “That might come in handy later.” Jacob led me outside to his patio, and then he plopped two patties on the sizzling hot grill. The aroma of burning charcoal mixed with hamburger meat filled the air.

  I set my keys and beer down on the table.

  We spent ten minutes chatting about small stuff, work and little tidbits about life in general, while he cooked the food. However, my mind kept coming back to his connection with Francesca. Maybe his fight with Francesca the same day she died could help give me insight in to what was going on in her life.

  “I’m not trying wreck the nice conversation we’re having,” I said. “But could you elaborate on your fight with Francesca the other day?”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “What brought that up?”

  “I really don’t mean to be a pest, but I have to know. I’m working on something, and it’s very important to find out all I can about Francesca’s recent activities,” I added.

  “Are you a detective?” Jacob asked.

  “Ha. No.” Okay, I had to think fast. What could I say without saying too much? “I have to do her eulogy tomorrow night.”

  “And you’re going to write about a fight? Here I thought eulogies focused on the good about the deceased. So what’s going on?” he asked.

  “Well, I’m sort of a self-appointed amateur sleuth. I’m trying to find out Francesca’s state of mind that day.” And who the killer was.

  “Well?” Jacob flipped the burgers.

  I leaned against the deck railing. “Well, because I’m trying to write her eulogy. That’s why.”

  “No. I meant how do you want your burger, well, medium, rare?” He smiled.

  “Oh.” Sometimes I’m so clueless. “Medium well.”

  “In that case, they’re ready.” He plated the burgers and we pulled chairs over to the patio table.

  As we ate, we talked about the latest local news, including the hospital’s expansion, the eminent domain issues and the mayor’s run for governor. I liked that he was easy to talk to. He was smart and funny, besides being incredibly sexy. After we finished our burgers, I knew I had to ask him about his relationship with Francesca, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how to ask without sounding nosy.

  “So are you going to clue me in on your relationship with Francesca?” I asked. I took a sip of beer.

  He raised an eyebrow. “There was no relationship beyond employee and employer. I’d only met her shortly after she took over the office.”

  “How long have you been in town?” I asked.

  “A few months.”

  So he probably didn’t know much about Francesca, but I had to try to see what he did know. “Did you have any idea of who she hung out with, or dated?”

  Jacob took a swig of his beer. “You’re not going to let me get away with not answering are you?”

  “I’m bit of a pest that way.” I grinned.

  He leaned back. A smile crept on his face as his eyes covered my body. He laughed. “Okay. Here’s what little I know. She was dating a much older guy. I think he was married.”

  “How did you find that out?” I asked, and then put my napkin on my plate.

  “Through the grapevine. Construction guys are worse than a bunch of ladies,” Jacob said.

  “Hey, I resent that.”

  “I didn’t mean that in a derogatory way.”

  Who was this older married guy? Was it the Ace guy she wrote about in her journal? I knew Francesca tended to date more mature men. But, we had always considered married men and each other’s former boyfriends off limits.

  “Do you have any idea who it might be?” I asked.

  “No. Sorry I don’t,” Jacob said.

  My cell rang. The caller ID said Mark. For a moment I thought it would be Ken begging me to take him back, pleading for forgiveness for breaking up with me. Then I felt slightly guilty that I was at Jacob’s place. Why did I feel guilty? Did I want something to happen? Yes, I was attracted to Jacob, but I also was under stress and on the rebound. That was a dodgy combination.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Jacob said as he got up and went into his house.

  “Hi Mark, what’s up?” I said into the phone.

  Mark huffed, sounding out of breath. “I’ve got a lead on a guy. I’m following him right now.”

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Near the dock. He stopped to get some bait,” Mark whispered.

  “I’ll be right there,” I said and hung up.

  Walking into the kitchen, I said, “Jacob, I’m so sorry about taking the call, but I have something very urgent I’m working on that needs my attention. The conversation was great. I enjoyed spending time with you. Thanks for the burger and beer.”

  “So you’re ditching me?” He smiled.

  “No, just leaving quickly for an urgent matter. I’m so very sorry. Please forgive my rudeness,” I said.

  “Actually, I have to go into town now anyway. So I guess you’re forgiven if you let me give you dessert.”

  “But I really don’t need any,” I said.

  He pulled me close and pressed me into a passionate kiss.

  Jacob said, “That was dessert.”

  Speechless for a moment, and feeling wobbly in the legs, I didn’t know what to do next.

  “No calories,” I stammered.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Is that him?” I asked as I approached Mark, who was crouched behind a thick shrub. “You know, everyone can see you. Your red hair is sticking out over the top.”

  “Damn. I thought I wa
s incognito,” Mark said as he rose to his feet.

  “What’s this on your lip?” I ripped off his fake moustache.

  “Ouch.” Mark rubbed his lip.

  “Brown? You couldn’t even get a red one?” Not seeing a close trashcan nearby, I shoved the fake moustache in my pocket. Mark pulled me down to hide behind the shrubs. He put his finger over his mouth signaling me to keep quiet. He pointed over to a group on the pavilion. After a few minutes, I lost my patience, and whispered, “Who are we investigating?”

  Mark’s eyes widened as he got up. “Suspect on the move.”

  I jogged after Mark, noticing a medium height, dark headed, businesses man break away from the group. I asked, “Is that who you’re after?”

  “Yes. He’s new in town, and he paid for his coke at the pavilion gift center with a hundred dollar bill,” Mark said as he zig zagged between trees, hiding behind each one in turn.

  “You’re kidding me,” I said as I walked straight in plain sight.

  “I’ve got all the business owners on the lookout. They call me as soon as anyone pays for something with a c-note. And if the person isn’t a local. Smart huh?” Mark said as he tapped his forehead.

  “We’re looking for anyone who is not a local and also pays with a c-note.” I mentally thunked my head. I continued, “Mark, you’ll be on wild goose chases all day. That guy looks like a banker. We’re looking for a seedy-looking truck stop person, remember? Also, once you see someone who is suspect, you have to somehow have contact with them, start feeling them out. Ask questions about what they do for a living. Like if they ever traveled in big rigs. That kind of stuff.”

  Mark put his finger on his chin. “Okay. So should I put the pressure on him? Go over and start interrogating him?”

  I pulled Mark close to me. “Leave him alone.”

  “Fine. But look at that guy over there. Isn’t he walking a little shiftily?” Mark said as he pointed to a guy a block away, across the street, headed in our direction.

  Squinting to see better, I made out who it was. “That’s Jacob. And he’s not a suspect.”

  “Why not? What do you know about him?” Mark asked.

  “Not much,” I admitted.

  “He’s new in town, right?” Mark asked.

  Come to think of it he had just told me he had only been here a few months. “Well, yes. But…” I stammered.

  “And have you ever seen him with a hundred dollar bill?”

  Jacob had paid for the ice cream with one. I admitted, “Once. But—”

  “Do you know if he was ever involved with trucking?” Mark continued.

  “No.” Putting it all together this way, had me momentarily considering the possibility that Jacob could be a suspect. I said, “But he’s not a seedy trucker type.”

  Mark looked at me, furrowing his brows. “A potential suspect is right under our noses, but you’re too smitten with him to see it.”

  “Smitten with him?” I raised my voice.

  “C’mon. Just saying his name, or asking about him, your face changes. Like a puppy dog. My little sister gets that same look when she talks about Justin Bieber,” Mark said.

  “I do not have a crush on him.” Just as the words left my mouth, Jacob was alongside us.

  “You left your keys at my place.” Jacob handed them over to me. “Is this your partner in crime?”

  I tried to hold at bay my excitement at seeing Jacob, so Mark wouldn’t give me his famous ‘I told you so look.’ I made the introduction.

  Mark shook Jacob’s hand. “Jacob, I’ve been meaning to ask you, I’ve heard you work in construction, but I was wondering if you’re handy with engines.”

  I shot Mark a death stare for interrogating Jacob.

  “Actually. I happen to know something about truck engines,” Jacob answered.

  Mark looked over at me, then back at Jacob. “Pickup or the big rigs?”

  “Both,” Jacob replied. “Do you have one that needs to be fixed?”

  My stomach plummeted.

  “Not right now. But I’ve always been interested in big rigs, and how they work and things like that. You know all that stuff.” Mark stood closer to Jacob. “So, how did you learn about big rigs?”

  Jacob crossed his arms. “My dad drove a semi cross-country. One time I went with him.”

  “Does he still drive?” Mark asked Jacob.

  Jacob cleared his throat. “He passed.”

  A feather could have knocked me over. Could Jacob have been the son that was in the diner while Francesca and I were in the truck? My legs felt weak as I steadied myself, holding my hand on Mark’s back.

  Mark replied, “I’m sorry to hear that. Was he sick?”

  Jacob looked down and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’d rather not say.”

  “I apologize, Mark is prying. We’re really sorry about your dad,” I said. If he only knew how sorry I was feeling. He lost a parent, and I know how that felt. Poor guy.

  On the other hand, was it sheer coincidence or was his dad the same person Francesca and I killed? The thought hung like anchors around my soul. But if it was him, then was Jacob the blackmailer? Did he kill Francesca? If he ever figured out that I was with Francesca, then he would kill me next.

  Yet, he didn’t seem like a killer.

  Jacob’s cell rang. He turned and stepped away to take the call.

  Mark whispered in my ear, “See. He’s the killer. He’s the blackmailer, right under our noses. I told you.”

  “Maybe.” But I hoped not. “We have no hard facts and that’s what we need. But just in case, I’m staying away from him.”

  Mark kept an eye on Jacob standing under the tree, on a call. “Oh no. You have to act like everything is okay. Remember the saying keep your friends close and your enemies closer? You have to spend more time with him, to prove his guilt. Once we know for sure, we take all the evidence to the police and bam. Case solved.” Mark snapped his fingers.

  How could I have been attracted to a killer? I used to like the bad guys, but reformed after meeting Ken. Clean scrubbed homogenized high school football star, and now a doctor. That’s what I got for going against the grain. “I don’t know.”

  “Oh yes you do. You have to. He probably killed Francesca as revenge for his father. When he adds two and two, you’ll be next.”

  “That’s why I’m staying away,” I said.

  “No. That’s exactly why you have to stay close to him. You must know his every move. Find proof that he’s Francesca’s killer.” Mark placed his hand on my shoulder. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Jacob finished his call and returned.

  “I’ll see you two later on. Nice to meet you Mark,” Jacob said.

  “Yeah, you too,” Mark added.

  Right before leaving, Jacob said, “CiCi, can I see you later tonight?”

  “Yes she can,” Mark answered.

  I jabbed Mark. “No. I have to go to the airport.”

  “After she’s done she can meet you,” Mark gave Jacob my cell phone number.

  It seemed I had a date with a murderer, set up courtesy of my best friend.

  ***

  “I forgot how much you looked like Francesca.” I loaded Vivian’s suitcase into my yellow VW bug. We buckled up as I started the car. Vivian was a fifty-something, petite blond, with the same wide welcoming smile and light blue eyes as Francesca.

  “Yes. We got that a lot while we were traveling through Europe. People mistook us for mother and daughter, so we went along with it. Since I never had children of my own, I was just as happy to be a surrogate mom to her.” Vivian pulled a tissue out of her brown leather carry on and dabbed her eyes.

  Pulling onto the highway, I said, “I’m so very sorry about everything.”

  “The whole plane ride, I sobbed. I didn’t think there was anything left. But I just can’t get over it. She was so strong and healthy. If someone is sick or old, you’re kind of prepared for it, but it still hurts. But this?” V
ivian was lost in a pile of emotions.

  For the next hour, I kept silent and focused on driving, while she sobbed. My own tears bubbled to the top, and trickled down my cheeks, as I thought of Francesca, and the likelihood I killed Jacob’s dad. Steadying my thoughts, I focused on the road. I pulled into the Round Lake Bed and Breakfast parking lot, across the street from the pavilion where the mayor said he had booked rooms for family and friends.

  “I’ve been a terrible companion. I did nothing but snivel, completely lacking in any civilized manners,” Vivian offered as I unloaded her bags and wheeled them up to the bed and breakfast.

  “Please, no apologies needed. But, could I have a few minutes with you sometime soon? I’m doing the eulogy, and would love to talk to you about Francesca,” I said.

  “Yes dear. Absolutely. I would like nothing better than to help you with that. You know, I’m so jet lagged right now my brain is foggy. But, there’s something about Francesca that I haven’t told anyone yet. And you were her best friend. I just have to tell someone. I guess I was in such a state of shock.” Vivian stopped, choking back the words. “She was in trouble with some guy. But she thought she had it under control. I told her it had me worried. Then she played it down and said that she was just over reacting. She said she felt over stressed, and for me not to worry. Before she hung up she said she would call me later.”

  “Did she?” I asked.

  “No,” Vivian said.

  “Did she mention the guy’s name? And what sort of trouble?”

  Vivian sighed. “No. Just that she felt pressured about something the guy wanted to do.”

  Get twenty thousand in blackmail money? “Can you remember anything else from that conversation?”

  “Not really. Do you think it could have had anything to do with her death?” Vivian’s eyes watered up as she reached over to clutch my hand.

  “I don’t know,” I added. But I intended to find out.

  Vivian hugged me and said, “I’ll be able to think clearer after a good night’s rest.”

  “Could we meet tomorrow?” I asked.

  “That would be lovely dear. I may take a few sleeping pills to help get over my jet lag. Can we do brunch here at eleven?” She offered a faint smile.