"That's always good to hear."
I sighed and snuggled closer to him. "I went to the office afterward to give Donna the check. We had words."
"What kind of words?" Greg asked with interest.
"Well, not very nice ones. Besides accusing me of murder, which, by the way, I'm starting to get used to, she told me to get out. My relationship with Hospitable Homes is now over."
Relief washed over Greg's face. "Thank God for small favors."
"There's more. I tried to tell her about what Ken did to me, but she refused to listen."
"Don't worry about it. He's her problem. I'm sure they'll live a long, happy life together," Greg said dryly. "And Donna's no concern of yours anymore either. Now you can sign on with that other place tomorrow."
I stared at my husband anxiously. "What if they don't want me now? Everyone in town knows what happened."
He tweaked my nose. "Stop worrying. Jacques will have his place up and running soon, won't he?"
"Hope so." I was silent for a few seconds as I mulled things over in my mind. "Still, I need to join up with someone right away. I have that listing appointment on Monday."
Greg released me and got to his feet. "It'll work out. You worry too much. I hate to sound insensitive, but I'm starving. What's for dinner?"
"I thought I'd order takeout, if that's okay."
"Whatever you want, baby. I'll go grab the menus. What'll it be—Chinese, pizza, burgers?"
I yawned. "You and the kids decide. I really don't care."
"Okay, I'll go consult with the other men in this family." He headed downstairs, and within seconds I could hear the twins shrieking with laughter and Rusty barking.
I smiled as I listened to them carrying on, then realized I'd left my purse in the car. As I started out to retrieve it, I grabbed my phone from my blazer pocket where I had placed it after talking with Tricia. It was still on mute from the closing since I had forgotten to change it back. I had one new text message, four missed calls, and two voice mails.
The text was from Jacques, asking me to call him tonight so that we could discuss our case further. Poirot and Hastings to the rescue.
One of the voice mails was from the police officer who had been here earlier, asking me to please come home as soon as possible.
The other message was from Stevie. "Mommy, please come home. There's smoke coming from the curtains. I don't know what to do."
After putting the phone down, I wept quietly for a moment. I had to pull myself together before things got any worse. I said a silent prayer of thanks for the boys' safety. If something had happened to them today, I never would have forgiven myself.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The twins and Greg decided on burgers and fries from a local restaurant, and we were all seated at the dining room table, minus Darcy. Greg had gone up once to tell her to come down to dinner, but her door was locked.
He looked at me and shrugged. "She says she's not hungry."
"That means more for us." Seth grinned.
Greg observed me with concern. "You need to eat something."
I pushed my chair back and stood. "No appetite here either, I guess. I think I'll go upstairs."
He caught my arm as I walked by. "If you want to talk to her, that's fine. But if you take away the punishment, I'm going to ground you too."
Stevie giggled. "You tell her, Dad."
I smiled at my husband. "Oh, really? Am I supposed to be afraid of you now?"
"You have no idea." Greg winked.
I put my hands on my hips. "I'd never take away her punishment without talking to you first."
He looked doubtful. "Please. I know you, remember?"
"Oh, fine. I do need to talk to her though."
Greg reached for the ketchup. "Good luck."
I trudged up the stairs and stood in front of Darcy's door for several seconds before I let out a sharp breath and knocked. "Darcy, can I please talk to you for a minute?"
There was no answer.
"I'm not leaving till you open the door."
She fumbled with the lock but didn't bother to open the door. At least we were making some progress.
My daughter was lying on her stomach in bed, staring intently out the window. There wasn't much to look at. It had started to rain and was pitch black outside.
"May I sit down?"
Darcy shrugged but kept staring out the window.
I sat next to her on the bed, not sure what to say next. What I really wanted to do was put my arms around her and tell her everything would be all right, like I had when she was a little girl and she'd fallen off her bike for the tenth time in a day. Without thinking, I reached my hand out to stroke her hair. "It's been a long time since we had a talk."
Much to my surprise, she didn't pull away.
"I'm sorry you have to deal with all this stuff," I went on. "It wasn't my plan. Just so you know, it hasn't been easy for me or your father as well. You're almost an adult, so I feel like we can talk—about everything. Your brothers don't understand the implications here. They think this is some type of game."
Darcy frowned. "You should call the hospital and see if it's too late to return them."
When I laughed, she grinned. Hopefully, we were getting somewhere.
"I know I can't understand everything you're going through right now, but it doesn't excuse what you did today. And I didn't come up here to take away your father's punishment either."
Darcy stared down at her pillow and said nothing.
I lifted her face in my hand so that she had no choice but to look at me. "I hope you know I didn't hurt that woman."
Tears came into Darcy's eyes as she nodded. "But it was so awful, hearing kids say those mean things about you. One girl asked me if you did it so that you could get the dead lady's listings. And that Laura Winters—oh, I can't stand her."
The name sounded familiar, but I wasn't sure why. "What'd she do?"
"She went around telling everyone that you beat up people who come to our house. And it's because you're guilty."
Well, this was a new one. "Where would she get an idea like that?"
"She said you hit her older sister. She's some nobody who works for one of the local papers."
I was thunderstruck. Of course, Stephanie Winters. "Oh no."
Darcy cocked her head to one side. "Did you really beat her up?"
I shook my head. "It was all a misunderstanding. She came to the house unannounced and wanted to do a story on me. I told her to leave, and she fell off the porch."
"Oh, too bad." Darcy looked crestfallen.
"Sorry to disappoint you," I grinned. "If Laura's anything like her sister, I understand why you don't like her very much."
Darcy tossed her hair. "She always talks behind my back. I beat her out for Homecoming Court last fall, and she was really mad. I mean, what's the big deal? It's just a stupid contest that I didn't even want to be in anyway. Plus, she knows that Ryan Stanford likes me and not her. He's taking me to the sophomore dance tomorrow night." Her face fell. "I mean, he was."
"I'm sorry, honey."
Darcy grabbed a tissue off her nightstand and blew her nose. "I guess I deserve it. Most days they act like little maggots, but they're still my baby brothers. If they'd been hurt, I'd have felt awful."
I put my arms around her, and she hugged me back in return. "I know. You're a good sister to them—well, most of the time. Don't worry. If Ryan liked you before this, he'll ask you to another dance."
Darcy's face lit up. "He asked me to the prom today."
I was thrilled. "Really? Is he a junior?"
"No, he's a senior. He was eighteen back in January."
Oh, great. Greg's going to love this.
"The prom's a month away, I'll need to get a dress pretty soon." Darcy hesitated. "The one I have won't work—it's too short. Um, can we afford another one?"
"Maybe we could exchange this dress and get credit for a new one. We'll have to wait until next week wh
en you're not grounded anymore."
She gave me a fierce hug. "Thanks, Mom. I'm sorry for being such a pain."
"You need to apologize to your father too."
"I know. I'll go do it right now." She started to get up from the bed then paused. "Mom? Will they—I mean, they won't put you in jail, right?"
"I don't see how they can. I haven't done anything wrong."
"Laura said they had proof you did it."
"She was only saying that to upset you. There is no proof. Everything is going to be fine." Yeah, keep telling yourself that. "Before long, the police will find the real killer."
I spoke confidently since I didn't want to worry her. If only I believed the words spewing out of my mouth. Now that they knew I'd been in Tiffany's house, would that be enough proof for the police to convict me? I wasn't sure.
I tried to put this out of my head as I handed my daughter another tissue. "Come on. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's go grab some food before the guys eat it all."
Darcy dabbed at her eyes. "Sounds good to me."
We went downstairs with our arms around each other.
After dinner, the boys and Greg went into the living room to watch a movie. Darcy begged off, asking if she could be allowed to go upstairs and phone Ryan to explain about the dance. I granted permission, despite Greg's sour look.
I sat down at the computer in hopes of drumming up some more sales. I found three new expired listings that I made a note to call on tomorrow since it was too late for soliciting now.
My phone pinged. Another text from Jacques. You never called. How'd the closing go? Mr. Hillbilly show?
My fingers flew as I typed out a reply. All went well. Phone you later?
His response came back immediately. Sure. Will be up late. Two new listings to enter tonight.
That's great, I texted back. Talk to you later.
I folded my hands together and stared at the expired listings I'd printed. Who would I say I represented when I called? My Hospitable Homes business cards mocked me from the black mesh holder on my desk. I picked it up and dumped all the cards in my wastebasket. Time for a new beginning.
I checked my email and was astonished to see Tiffany's name pop up in my in-box. It was an automatic response thanking me for showing her listing and asking me to leave feedback. A chill ran down my spine. These responses were linked to our eKEYs but still it was creepy—like getting an email from the dead. I clicked on the link to her house for another look. I fantasized one last time about how lovely it would have been to sell it. That wasn't going to happen for me now.
I noticed an update had been posted. No more showings until further notice, read the caption at the top of the page. This must have been Donna's handiwork. I was puzzled. Why not show the house anymore? The murder hadn't happened there. I wondered if the sign was still out on the lawn. I'd have to drive by tomorrow and take a look.
Someone began to knead my shoulders gently from behind, and I let my head roll forward. "Oh, that feels good."
Greg bent down to kiss my neck, then gently pulled me up out of the chair and into his arms. "I know what would feel better." He captured my mouth with his until I was breathless. "Come on. Forget about Donna and the gang. You need to relax. Watch some TV with me and the boys while I give you a massage."
"Are there any other perks included?" I teased.
Greg grinned. "Oh, do I have plans for you, baby."
* * *
The house was dark and quiet as I lay in Greg's arms, listening to the comforting sound of his even breathing. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Almost midnight. I was both mentally and physically exhausted, but I knew sleep wasn't coming for a while—if at all. There were too many thoughts running through my head.
With a sigh, I lifted Greg's arm and got out of bed. I groped for my robe at the foot of our bed. Sweetie was perched on it, purring away. I picked her up, and she meowed in protest. I gently placed her back down, and the purring resumed. I walked out to the hallway and then into the twins' bedroom.
Seth was in the bottom bunk, covers flung off, with his legs hanging over the side of the bed. I gave him a gentle push until he rolled toward the wall. He was heavier than Stevie, plus he'd been known to sleepwalk on occasion, making the bottom bunk a safer option for him.
Ever the opposite, Stevie, on the top bunk, slept like a dead person. I covered him with his blanket and started to close the door, but something soft and furry rubbed against my leg. Sweetie ran past me and jumped onto Seth's bed.
"Well, fine, if my bed isn't good enough for you."
She glanced at me mockingly with big, green eyes and brought a dainty, white paw to her mouth for a quick bath. I wasn't surprised she'd departed right after me. Greg had never been a huge fan of cats and barely managed to tolerate Sweetie. From what I could tell, the feeling was mutual.
I stole a glance at Darcy with her long, dark hair fanned across the pillow. She looked like an angel. Her cell phone lay next to her in bed. Shaking my head, I turned it off and placed it on the nightstand beside her.
Downstairs in the kitchen, I made a cup of herbal tea and took it into the den. As I sat down in front of the computer, I glanced at my phone and noticed Jacques had sent another text about thirty minutes ago. Where are you? Call me if you're awake. Important.
I dialed his number, and he answered on the first ring. "Jeez, Cin, do I have to schedule an appointment to talk with you now?"
"Sorry. It's been another crazy night here. What's up?"
"I'm still not convinced Leslie's innocent."
"She only slashed a tire, Jacques. Speaking of which, did the police happen to mention that when they questioned you the other day?"
"Silly girl. Why would they tell us anything? They probably figured whoever did it was the one who killed her. I mean, think about it. The killer worries that Tiffany's not completely dead and might try to go for help in her car. He could've slashed her tire to make sure she wouldn't get away. Makes sense, doesn't it?"
It seemed a bit farfetched to me, but I decided to keep the peace. "Yes, they might think that. Dang, you're getting good, Watson."
Jacques snorted. "I told you, I get to be Poirot or nothing. Anyhow, I keep thinking about that poor baby. I'm sorely tempted to call Child Protective Service."
"Don't do that," I begged. "Anne left me a message earlier. She said they're staying at her house for a few days. She'll take care of them."
"I should have taken that child myself."
I smiled. "You're such a sucker when it comes to kids. Are you and Ed thinking about adopting?"
"Maybe. Ed wants to wait, but I don't. We fight about it all the time."
"You'd have to take some time off from work, you know."
"Once my business gets rolling, I will. Then I'll let my associates take over for a while." He gave a fake cough into the phone.
"I have an appointment tomorrow morning at No Place Like Home Realty," I said suddenly.
There was an awkward pause for a few seconds. "Why on earth are you going there?"
I blew out a breath. "Now that Donna's given me my walking papers, I need to find employment. Fast."
"Wait a sec. She did what?" Jacques sounded confused.
"Sorry, I didn't get a chance to tell you sooner. I brought the check from the closing to Donna, and she told me to get out. Then she said she hopes I rot in hell for Tiffany's murder."
Jacques clucked his tongue loudly. "Dang. Well, so what. Who cares about her and that place? Now you can come work for me."
"You don't have your business up and running yet. I need a job now."
Jacques sighed. "I'm going to look at a building tomorrow. If I like it, I'll sign the papers, and you will have yourself a job. I promise you'll be the first person I hire, besides a receptionist."
"I want nothing more than to work for you. You're honest and want the best for your clients. Not to mention I adore you. But I have a listing appointment on Monday. If th
ey sign on with me, I have to be working for someone by then."
"Well, go see Sylvia then. Don't get too comfy, though, because I'll be calling soon." He yawned. "So I have another idea. I think we should go visit Pete Saxon tomorrow."
I shifted in my seat. "I don't know about this."
"Do you want to find this killer or not?"
"I have to. It's my only way out of this mess."
"Well then, what time are you free?" Jacques asked.
I cupped my mug for warmth. "It has to be in the afternoon. I'm meeting with Sylvia at eleven, and I want to try to find Ken's pawn shop first."
Silence ensued. "Cin, when Greg finds out you're looking for that loser, things are going to get ugly in your house."
"Don't worry, I intend to tell him. But I need to figure out how Ken connects to everything. I have to find him."
"He's not going to cooperate. It'll be a complete waste of time and maybe even dangerous for you as well."
"I'll take a can of mace with me. It's a long shot, but I have to try."
"I don't know of any pawn shops around here," Jacques mused. "What's it called?"
"No idea. Is there any way to search in the MLS commercial section? I only pay dues for the residential part, so I don't have access."
"I'm already three steps ahead of you." I could hear Jacques swiftly typing away. "You may have to check the internet as well, but I see two in the immediate area. One on Hamilton, and the other is over on Louise Boulevard."
I wrinkled my nose. "Louise. Isn't that in the less desirable part of town?"
"You're so politically correct. You can say slums, dear. And it sounds like a perfect match for that scumbag. This one actually just sold a few days ago."
"Was it worth anything?"
"Nah, just chump change. Probably a hole in the wall. I know that area. I sold a two-family there a few years ago. Absolutely deplorable, but I found someone who wanted it."
"Of course you did. You could sell your mother a strip club. Well, it's a shot in the dark, but I think I'll stop by both of them tomorrow."
"I really don't like the idea of you going there alone. If you find that jerk, call me. I'll be there in a flash, appointment or no appointment. By the way, I'm convinced that his wanting to see Tiffany's place was no coincidence."
Killer Transaction (Cindy York Mysteries Book 1) Page 15
