"Why do you say that?" I spooned some potatoes into my mouth.
Josie wiped her hands on a napkin. "Because Laura Pusatere said that she'd let you know if they saw him again. Seriously, what are the chances of that? David already got his money from the house. We don't have a definitive description of him or even know what kind of car he drives."
It was like looking for a lone chocolate chip in a bakery display case. "Well, we have to start somewhere. Mrs. Gavelli saw Trevor meeting a man in a black BMW a few weeks back. It might have been David Webb. Maybe he'll show up at Trevor's service to see what's going on?" It wasn't likely, though. We may have hit a bump in the road.
Josie shrugged. "It's possible. I can't believe that Tina chick is pregnant. Do you think she planned to trap Trevor?"
I wrapped the remains of my piece of chicken in a napkin and sucked at the straw in my soda. "Trevor didn't want to get married again, so yeah, I think she might have." Still, what did it matter now? She would be raising a child on her own. I wondered why Trevor hadn't told Mike about the baby. There was so much we still didn't know about this mystery man.
I thought back to the few times I'd met Trevor. He'd always been pleasant and made polite conversation with me, asking about the bakery and so forth. He and Mike got on well together. My husband knew many people and was well liked in town, but didn't have many male friends besides Josie's husband, Rob. He'd always been somewhat of a loner.
Nausea stirred in my stomach. Trevor hadn't given a damn about Mike's friendship, the tools Mike had lent him, or advances on pay he'd received. Why did people do such hurtful things and take advantage of one another? Was everyone always looking out for number one?
Josie and I sat in silence for the next several minutes as we watched the funeral home for any signs of life. The service had started almost an hour ago, and I figured someone had to be out soon.
As if reading my mind, Josie sighed and looked at her watch. "It's four o'clock, Sal. Should I text Gianna and tell her to close up in case we don't get back in time?"
"Please." I kept my eyes glued on the building.
Josie's fingers flew over the keyboard, and then she put the phone away. "How long are you planning on staying here?"
"As long as it takes."
A rapping on my window startled us, and we both shrieked. My father was waving at me from the other side of the glass. "Hi, baby girl," he shouted. "Hello, Josie. What are you two doing here? Coffee run?"
"Good God," Josie said in disbelief as I rolled my window down. "Your parents are everywhere."
Yeah, no kidding. "Dad, what are you doing here? Mortuary convention at Starbucks?"
He beamed. "Nah, but it would make a great location. Those morticians can guzzle down a lot of java, let me tell you." He held up a duffel bag. "I'm dropping off some copies of my book at Phibbins Mortuary. Eddie Phibbins requested them. He's going to put a couple out with the mass cards."
The whole world had gone mad. "Isn't he the owner? The same guy who once fired you for driving his hearse and talking to the mourners too much?"
My father waved a hand in impatience. "Ah, that's all ashes over the ocean. I don't hold grudges. Besides, I'm a celebrity now. It's natural that everyone would want a piece of me."
Give me strength. "There's a private service being held inside, Dad. I don't think you can just walk right in. It's for Trevor Parks. You know, the guy—"
His face sobered. "Yes, I remember. I'm sorry, baby girl. By the way, your mother and I thought that Mike looked much better when we stopped in to see him last night. I believe your grandmother was headed over there this morning."
"Yes, she's at the hospital with him now," I said.
"Are you still going inside?" Josie asked him in surprise.
"Certainly." Dad puffed out his chest. "Eddie knows I'm coming. We'll sit in his office and chat about my book. I'm sure he'll want me to sign them."
This might be the opportunity I was looking for. "Hey, Dad. Could you do me a favor?"
"You bet. Anything for my baby girl."
"I'd like to talk to Trevor's brother and sister but don't want to interfere with the service, since it's private and all. I don't know what they look like or if they're even here for that matter. Do you think Eddie would help us out?"
He nodded happily. "Why sure. I'll text you and let you know what I find out. It's the least I can do when you're making 500 coffin-shaped cookies for me." He whistled cheerfully and started across the street. An elderly man opened the door as he approached the entrance of the funeral home.
Josie waved a hand in front of my face. "Um, what does he mean, 500 cookies? And who is making them, pray tell?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" I tried to laugh it off, but Josie wasn't smiling. "Dad needs 500 cookies for his book signing."
"How the heck am I supposed to make 500 cookies?" Josie exploded. "And shaped like coffins? What am I, the baker of doom and gloom?"
My phone pinged at that moment, and I glanced down, grateful for the distraction. It was a text from my father.
Only five people here for the service. Trevor's girlfriend, her friend, Trevor's ex-wife, his sister and brother. I guess Jerry Maroon stopped by to try to talk to the family earlier. Sorry I missed him! Eddie had to tell him to leave.
The so-called star anchorman was relentless. I texted my father back. Is there any way you can let me know when they're about to wrap up?
Dad shot back an answer. Service is over. The brother and sister are leaving now. Should be coming out the front door soon. Said something to Eddie about wanting coffee.
Jackpot. Thanks, Dad. I owe you.
His reply came back within seconds. Maybe you should add another 100 cookies to that order.
Me and my big mouth. "Trevor's brother and sister should be coming out of the building any second," I said to Josie. "Sounds like they're going to Starbucks."
She threw me a shrewd look. "You're the boss of this operation, Sal. I've never seen you so determined. You always want to get to the bottom of a crime, but I guess this one is a bit too personal."
"Yes, it is," I said sadly. "Mike was almost killed, and now his business has taken a hard blow. I want to find out exactly what is going on and who was involved with Trevor."
We watched as the front door of the funeral parlor opened and a woman emerged, followed by a man. They looked to be in their early forties, and both were petite in height. Trevor himself had also been on the short side, only a few inches taller than me. The woman had dark hair styled in a curly bob and was wearing a black, belted trench coat. Curtis had red hair and, even at this distance, looked shockingly like Trevor. My heart gave a jolt as they got into a black SUV and quickly drove out of the lot. "Here we go."
As my father had indicated, the couple turned into the Starbucks lot and immediately went inside the building. I opened my car door and looked expectantly at Josie. "Are you coming with me?"
Josie beeped the minivan locked. "As if there was ever any doubt."
We got in line behind the sister, who ordered two lattes. The man was seated at a table in the corner of the room, texting away on his iPhone. I handed Josie a ten-dollar bill. "Get whatever you want."
"What about you?" she asked.
"My stomach's in knots. I'll hold off for a while."
With some hesitation, I approached the table. Again, I was struck by the likeness to Trevor—even more so up close. They could have been twins. Same red hair, freckles, and wiry build.
The man must have sensed that he was being stared at because he suddenly looked up at me. "Help you?" His tone was not especially friendly.
"Hi," I managed to squeak out, as if meeting a celebrity for the first time. "Are you Curtis Parks?"
He put the phone down on the table and raised an eyebrow at me. "Who wants to know?"
I extended my hand. "You don't know me. My name is Sally Donovan. Your brother worked for my husband at Donovan Construction."
Curtis stared at my hand
for several awkward seconds then grudgingly brushed a few fingers across it. "What can I help you with?"
"I'm sorry about your brother. I can't imagine what—"
"Save it," he interrupted. "Just get to the point. You don't care that Trevor's dead. You're here because you want something, so don't beat around the bush—come right out and say it."
His rudeness shocked me, and I heard myself babbling as I often did when nervous. "My husband was with Trevor when he was killed. He was shot too."
"Sorry to hear that," he muttered. "But that's not why you're making small talk, is it?"
A demure woman's voice sounded from behind me. "Curtis, what's going on?"
I turned around to see Trevor's sister standing there with a cardboard tray between her slim hands. Curtis jumped up and placed it on the table, then gestured toward me as he selected his latte. "This woman's husband is the one who Trevor worked for."
"Oh." Her blue eyes widened as she scanned me up and down. "I'm Morgan Parks, Trevor's older sister."
"Sally Donovan. Nice to meet you." At that moment, Josie walked toward us, Starbucks cup in hand topped off with a tower of whipped cream. "This is my friend and partner, Josie Sullivan."
Josie nodded at them while Curtis guffawed. "Partner in what? Crime?"
Ah, if he only knew.
"Oh, I know who you are," Morgan spoke up. "I live in Colwestern. You own Sally's Samples, right?"
I studied her for a second. Morgan looked vaguely familiar, but I didn't remember ever seeing her in the bakery before. "Have you lived in town long?"
"A couple of years," she said. "I'm the one who convinced Trevor to come stay with me for a while after things went bad with his ex-wife. He needed a new start, and I told him it was a lovely little town."
Curtis glared at his sister. "Morgs, there's no reason to tell this woman anything. It's obvious she's on a fishing expedition."
Morgan wrinkled her brow. "I don't understand."
Curtis eyed me suspiciously. "What's Trevor done, Mrs. Donovan? Because you certainly aren't here to pay your respects."
This guy had a major chip on his shoulder. Curtis must have known what his brother was capable of, otherwise he wouldn't be acting this way. I gestured toward the two empty chairs. "May we join you for a minute?"
He rolled his eyes but removed his coat from the chair so I could sit down next to him. Josie sat across from me, next to Morgan. "Get to the point. I have things to do."
I tried not to let his sour manner bother me. "I don't know how to tell you both this, but Trevor was embezzling from my husband. He stole thousands of dollars from him."
Morgan gave a little cry of surprise, but Curtis's face remained stoic. "And? Anything else?" he demanded.
"Isn't that enough?" Josie snapped back at him.
I shot her a warning look. "It's my belief that whoever killed your brother might have been in on it with him. I want to track down these people and make sure they get what's coming to them." And save my husband's business in the process.
Curtis leaned back in his chair and studied me, as if seeing me for the first time. After a few seconds, he chuckled. "Thanks for the laugh, lady. I needed one today."
"Curtis!" Morgan gasped. "Why are you being so rude to this woman?"
He glared angrily across the table at his sister. "Why? Gee, Morgan, I have no idea. Maybe because Trevor never cared about anyone but himself? Maybe because he did the same thing to you? Stole money out of your bank account and was forging checks with your name on them? He didn't give a—"
"Stop it!" Morgan pleaded. She looked as if she was about to cry. "I asked you to never bring that up again. I forgave Trevor for that a long time ago."
Curtis scraped his chair against the floor as he got to his feet. "I'm going to finish my coffee in the car. When you're done talking to Nancy Drew and company, I'll drive you home." Without another word he looked down his nose in disgust at Josie and me, pushed the door to the coffee shop open and walked outside.
Morgan watched her brother get into the SUV and then turned back to me, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "Please forgive Curtis. He doesn't usually act like this."
"You mean he's human after all?" Josie blurted out.
"Jos," I warned.
Morgan stared at me sadly. "Curtis has never forgiven Trevor for what he did to me. He wanted me to press charges, but I refused. A week later, our mother died of a sudden heart attack. Trevor had always been Mother's favorite, and Curtis was jealous. He said that Trevor was the one who killed her. At the funeral, he even started a fight with Trevor. At her funeral, for God's sake!" Her lower lip trembled. "He hit Trevor in the face several times before the undertaker and some friends finally pulled him off. Things haven't been right between the two of them since." She hiccupped back a sob. "And now they never will."
My heart went out to her. I'd known families with bad blood between the siblings before, but this was taking it to a whole new level. Could Curtis have hated his brother enough to kill him? Or was there a bigger motive? Was there any chance Curtis had been in on Trevor's embezzlement scheme too?
"This has to be a very emotional day for you, and I'm sorry to intrude," I said. "I had hoped that maybe you or your brother might be able to point us in the right direction. I want to find who did this to Trevor as much as you do."
She twisted a napkin between her two tiny hands. "Trevor was my baby brother. Sure, he did some rotten things, but I still loved him. When he met Tina, I told him maybe he should think about staying near Colwestern and starting over. It's my fault he was killed."
"You can't blame yourself," Josie said. "You didn't tell him to get involved with people who'd end up killing him. Any idea who the gunmen might have been?"
She shook her head with regret. "I don't know if Trevor knew them personally. He never talked about any friends to me. I tried to stay out of his business—you know, the divorce with Erica and then when he moved in with Tina. He seemed happy, so I minded my own business."
"He never mentioned anyone else?" I asked.
Morgan glanced at me sheepishly. "He did talk about your husband a couple of times. He said that Mickey was a great guy."
"Mike," I corrected.
"Sorry." Her face reddened. "Trevor said he owed Mike a lot since he gave him a job." A tear trickled down her cheek. "About a week ago, he called me out of the blue late one night. He didn't sound like himself. Trevor went on to say that Mike was going through some stuff, and he felt bad for him. I didn't know what he meant and didn't think about it any further, nor did I ask for details. Hey, I thought that he meant Mike was going through a divorce too or maybe he had a sick kid at home—something like that."
Trevor must have been referring to the embezzling part. It was the only thing that made sense. Did this mean that Trevor had a conscience after all? "Is there anything else you remember?"
Morgan wiped her eyes with a napkin. "Trevor said he'd done some terrible things that he wasn't proud of. I thought he was referring to stealing money out of my bank account. Then he mentioned he'd be moving on soon." She blew out a breath. "Trevor said he was afraid he'd eventually have to pay for what he'd done."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Okay, so I was wrong," Josie admitted as we watched the SUV speed away. "We found out more than I thought. So where to begin? Curtis hated his brother's guts and may have been dating his ex-wife. Trevor stole money from his sister and, from what Morgan said, knew his life was in danger and was planning to leave town. It makes sense that he was taking money and materials from Mike's business to profit himself and that David Webb guy. Trevor Parks was one busy guy."
We were sitting in Josie's minivan, still pointed in the direction of the funeral home parking lot. The past couple of days had caught up with me, and I could barely manage to stay awake. "Maybe I should go back to the hospital." My grandmother had called a little while earlier saying that she was leaving and Mike would be alone. Shortly afterward, Johnny had texted to s
ay that he was stopping by to see Mike. Maybe he could lift his spirits. My heart ached when I thought of him lying in that hospital bed alone, feeling betrayed. I'd asked Mike if he wanted me to come back, but he hadn't responded yet. Hopefully that meant he was sleeping.
"Sure. I'll take you back to the bakery to get your car." Josie had started to put the van into drive when the front doors of the funeral home opened and a petite woman hurried down the steps. Josie nudged me in the side. "Who do you think that is?"
The woman had shoulder-length, dark hair covered with a blue knit cap and looked to be about our age. Her coat was the same light blue as the cap, and she had paired it with a plaid skirt and white boots. She almost looked like she was attending a party instead of a funeral service. This had to be Trevor's ex-wife.
We watched as the woman hurried over to a gray Chevy truck and got behind the wheel. Josie raised an eyebrow at me, having an idea what was running through my mind. "Your call."
"Follow her," I said.
Josie pulled out onto the main street. The truck was going over the speed limit, but Josie had a lead foot, and we managed to keep her in view.
"Erica lives in Colwestern, so hopefully she's not going far. It sounds like she moved here after Trevor left Virginia. Maybe she wanted to keep him in her sights." I was curious as to why they had divorced. Had Trevor been unfaithful?
"Sounds like one of those clingy females who can't accept that the relationship is over," Josie grumbled as she took a left onto a one-way residential street. "I hate women like that. They can't live without a man." She rolled her eyes in dramatic fashion. "Whatever will I do without a big, strapping male to take care of me?"
"Well, you have five in your life," I teased.
She gave me a sly wink. "Yeah, but that's different. I'm the boss and take care of all of them. You can bet that they know it too—especially Rob."
There was no doubt in my mind that they knew it. Rob was no wimp, but he knew better than to mess with Josie. Every male in that house needed her, and they weren't ashamed to admit it either. "You're so lucky," I said softly.
Sprinkled in Malice Page 11
