“It’s a dilemma, isn’t it? We want to move ahead, but we shouldn’t forget our past.”
“Right,” he said, as he gave me the once-over. “I was thinking. Perhaps we could grab a coffee and chat sometime? I’d like to know you better.”
“I’d love it.” A blush crept up my neck.
“Hmmm,” said Adrian. “Are you sure you can make time for me in your diary?”
“Diary?” I repeated, sounding as clueless as I felt.
He laughed. “I forgot. You lot call it a calendar or date book.”
Was he flirting with me? By golly, he sure was. My cheeks flamed hot. “I think I could squeeze you in.”
“Glad to hear it.” Adrian gave me a quick continental peck on the cheek.
As he walked away, MJ sidled close to me. We both watched as Adrian disappeared through the front door. I turned to MJ and said, “I’m such a sucker for men with accents.”
“I’m a fan of men in general. Benedict Cumberbatch? Whew. That English reserve of his makes me hot,” she said.
I giggled and turned my attention back to the crowd.
By eight o’clock, most of our guests were ready to leave.
Two reporters, a middle-aged woman and the guy in the Tommy Bahama shirt, expressed their appreciation and started for the door. As I held it open for them, rain sprinkled my face. “Hang on,” I said. “Let me grab our big umbrella and walk you to your cars.”
They were grateful for my offer. After the woman drove off, I sheltered Mr. Tommy Bahama. “Good luck getting rid of Kathy Simmons,” he said, as he slipped behind the wheel of his car. “She’s the gal in the funky raincoat. The kid has a tendency to overstay her welcome. You might have to toss her out on her ear.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I said. “Drive safely.”
Raindrops came down harder now, in slanted streaks of silver. The Treasure Chest glowed a warm amber, like a jewel in the slate gray night. I was glad people were leaving. My new hot pink shoes were beginning to hurt my feet. I was looking forward to taking a nice hot bath and climbing into bed.
Just as Mr. Tommy Bahama had warned me, Kathy Simmons wasn’t in any hurry to leave. First she introduced herself. Then she said, “Cara, I want to buy one of your pictures, and I need to take it home tonight.”
“You are welcome to buy it, but it has to stay on the wall for thirty days,” I said.
“Couldn’t you just replace it?”
“I thought I explained all this,” I said.
“Skye told me that you have more pictures in the back. Just put up one of those instead.” Kathy chewed on a strand of hair.
“It takes time to mat and frame pictures. I don’t want to change out the photos. I like the mix of scenes we currently have.”
The real reason was much more commercial. By delaying the sale of the photos, I hoped to build interest in them. To get a buzz going.
My father had been a big believer that you “sell the sizzle, not the steak.” That might sound odd, considering that Dad was a fabulous chef, but his point had been valid. Presentation has a definite impact on taste appeal. I was trying to put his teachings to practical use with our Old Florida Photo Gallery.
“You only have one copy of each picture?” Kathy asked.
“Yes, each framed photo is an original,” I said.
“But you could have two pictures that are alike, right? Do you have any more like that one of the old man with the two boys?”
“No, we don’t.”
“Look, it’s my mother’s birthday this weekend. She would love that photo. I have to get it for her,” said Kathy, “and I need to take it with me tonight.”
“I’m sorry but it’s staying right where it is for thirty days,” I said.
She sighed. “Cooper Rivers is an old boyfriend of yours, right?”
A shiver ran up my spine. “We dated. That was years and years ago. Why do you ask?”
“Is it true that he’s engaged to your sister, Jodi Wireka? She worked as his secretary, didn’t she?” Kathy’s gaze was as intense as my discomfort.
“Yes, Jodi is my sister, and yes, she and Cooper are engaged. I’ve been told she once worked as his secretary, but I can’t confirm that.” As I spoke, I tried to keep my emotions in check, but it was very, very difficult. A lump thickened my throat, and each word caused me physical pain.
I was in love with Cooper, and I had thought he was in love with me. He’d given me to believe that he and Jodi were finished, but then the two of them had shown up together at a store event. To say it had thrown me for a loop was an understatement.
Their appearance as a couple had upset me so much that it had made me physically ill. I still hadn’t gotten over it. Not entirely. In fact, the whole time I was planning this event, I kept obsessing over their last visit. Even though this guest list was restricted to members of the media, I worried that Jodi and Cooper would show up again.
I had learned the hard way not to put anything past Jodi
My parents hadn’t been married when she was born. Because they were so young, their parents encouraged them to put Jodi up for adoption. I came along later, after their wedding.
Although Jodi had known about me for years, I had only recently learned about her. Since I’d always wanted a sibling, I was thrilled!
But she did not feel the same. In fact, Jodi hated me. She blamed me for her adoption.
“Have you kept up with Cooper’s career?” Kathy interrupted my thoughts. “His architectural firm is very successful.”
“I don’t see what Cooper has to do with this event,” I said, evenly.
“I’m trying to get a sense of who you are and why you came back to Stuart.”
“As I said earlier, I came back to Stuart because my grandfather lives here. Cooper and Jodi have nothing to do with me or this event.”
“Right,” Kathy said. “But they’re well-known to the community. That’s the sort of tidbit that readers love. I bet they’d also be interested to learn you stumbled over a dead body right after you bought the building. Maybe even on this very spot where I’m standing.”
Ouch! That certainly wasn’t an image I wanted to share with new customers. I struggled to stay calm as I told Kathy, “I repeat: I don’t see what any of this has to do with the Old Florida Photo Gallery.”
“Maybe nothing, or maybe everything,” said Kathy with an exaggerated shrug. “Look, I’m on deadline. I need to get back to the paper and write my story for tomorrow’s edition. Why not make it easy on both of us? Let me buy that picture for my mother, and I’ll forget all those other story ideas. Cooper and Jodi. The corpse you found. Your arrest for attempted murder up in St. Louis.”
CHAPTER 5
My jaw hit the floor. I struggled to spit out the words. “Excuse me? Kathy, you could not have possibly said what I thought you said.”
“I think you heard me just fine,” she replied smugly. “I can write a nice story about your upcoming event or I can haul out your dirty laundry. Is it really worth the hassle for you just so you can keep one picture? Why not sell me the photo I want, pocket your profit, and let us both go away happy?”
A veil of crimson colored my field of vision. I was so angry that I was seeing red. My voice notched up an octave higher. “You are trying to blackmail me!”
“That’s a little extreme,” she said, with a laugh. “I want to buy a photo. You want to sell it. If you sell it to me now, I promise that my article will be glowing. Or you can wait and take your—”
“I think I’ll call Adrian Green right this minute and tell him—”
“Cara?” MJ tapped me on the shoulder.
“Not now, MJ,” I said, through clenched teeth.
“Whoa.” MJ took me by the elbow and moved me away from Kathy, so we could speak privately. “Cara, what are you doing?”
“That girl is trying to blackmail me into selling her a picture!”
“So what? Sell her the picture! That what we do. We sell things, remember?”
“But she’s threatening me! She brought up Cooper, and the dead body we found here in the store, and my arrest when I hit my ex-husband!” I said.
“Big deal. This whole evening is about making friends with the media, Cara. Not creating enemies. Get a hold of yourself. Sell her the picture. Who cares if it’s now or later?”
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m not thinking straight. I’m just tired.”
“I know you are,” said MJ. “We all are. I’m going to pack up the leftover food. You go sell that picture.”
I knew MJ was right, but I couldn’t let go of my anger. “I would sell it. Really, I would, but she’s being so obnoxious!”
“Have you ever met a reporter who isn’t obnoxious?” asked MJ. “That’s part of their job description. Quit acting like an idiot.”
“All right, all right.”
I squared my shoulders and walked over to where Kathy Simmons stood studying our photo display. “Okay, Kathy, you win. Which one do you want?”
“I’ve got it, Cara,” said Skye, as she dragged over the ladder. Skye climbed up and carefully unhooked the photo. The empty space yawned like a missing tooth.
MJ waved a plastic food storage container in the air. “Kathy? I know you have to get going. How about if you take some of this with you? No sense letting it go to waste.”
That’s MJ. She’s a pragmatist to the core.
“Nice,” said Kathy. “I’ll share it with my roommate, Darcy.”
Behind the young woman’s back, MJ made little walking motions with her fingers. The leftovers had been a bribe to encourage Kathy to leave.
Skye handed me the framed photo. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It won’t take me any time at all to get another one ready.”
Kathy was all smiles when she met me at the cash station. “It’s going to be all right, Cara. Wait until you see the article I’m going to put together. I’ll really do you proud. People will be falling all over themselves and begging to come to your VIP event.”
That’s exactly what I’d hoped for. A favorable mention in the media could pack the store with new customers. All I needed was help getting shoppers in the door. Once they were here, I could wine them, dine them, and wow them. That’s what I’d been trained to do by my father.
As Kathy pulled her wallet from her purse, a coin fell out and rolled across the floor. She would have ignored it, but I hunted it down. Nonnie, my Italian grandmother, insisted that a found coin was a token of good luck. Although Kathy didn’t seem interested, I never passed up a chance to improve my good fortune, even if it did mean squatting down awkwardly in a dress.
Kathy thanked me when I returned her penny. Her first credit card was declined. So was her second. The process embarrassed both of us. Finally, her third card was accepted.
“I hope your mother enjoys the picture,” I said. I wrapped her purchase in tissue paper and put it in one of our new biodegradable shopping bags. “I hope she has a happy birthday. Thank you for your business and for coming tonight.”
“Bye, Kathy. See you Friday at the VIP event,” said Skye. She’d been staring at the bare spot on the wall, as she stood with one hand to her chin, studying the space for size.
“Here you go,” said MJ, handing Kathy a plastic container of food.
The wet umbrella was sitting by the front door where it glistened with moisture.
“Gee, it’s really coming down.” Kathy pulled a scarf from her pocket and covered her hair.
The rain had taken on an urgent sound.
“Stick close while I walk you to your car,” I said. The fat drops smacked me in the face, like a cold dose of reality. Kathy’s raincoat shed the water, but I got soaked.
In an awkward pas de deux, we moved toward an old Toyota, more rust than metal. I sheltered her with the umbrella while she unlocked the driver’s door.
“I’ll call you if I have any questions when I get back to the office and start writing,” she said.
“I look forward to seeing your article.”
“Trust me.” Kathy gave me a grin. “Before it’s all said and done, you’re going to make Florida history.”
Boy, oh boy. Was she ever right about that!
CHAPTER 6
Mid-January
7:50 a.m. on Thursday
A parking space behind the Gas E Bait in Stuart, Florida
~Lou~
Although bloated and discolored, the face of the corpse roughly matched the photos he’d seen of the missing girl. Lou was pretty sure he’d found Kathy Simmons.
He’d also found a crime scene.
The stink of death permeated Lou’s clothes, but he couldn’t go home and change. Not yet. Not when there was so much to be done.
A low moan startled him. He turned in time to see Cara’s eyes roll back in her head. She took two staggering steps and then her knees buckled. Lou made a lunge for Cara, hoping to catch her before she went down, but Jason’s reflexes were faster. In a move right out of Gone With the Wind, the project manager swooped Cara off her feet. She hung limply from his arms.
“Cara!” screamed Skye.
“She just fainted,” said Jason.
“Are you sure?” asked MJ. “I can call an ambulance.”
“I had medical training in the service,” said Jason. “Trust me. She’ll be okay.”
With Cara in good hands, Lou turned his attention back to the crime scene. On closer inspection, he noticed that a corner of Kathy’s raincoat had jammed the locking mechanism. That explained why he’d been able to pop the trunk so easily.
Not that it mattered. He hadn’t been able to rescue the girl.
“She’s long gone,” Lou muttered to himself, turning away from the young woman’s lifeless eyes.
He began to construct a timeline. On Monday night, Kathy Simmons had attended the media event at The Treasure Chest. Later that evening—or very early Tuesday morning—her roommate had called the police department and reported her friend missing. For the next two days, no one had seen or heard from Kathy. The roommate, Darcy Lahti, made repeated and frantic calls, demanding that the cops find Kathy. Now it was Thursday morning. Because of his habit of having coffee with Skye, Lou had spotted the reporter’s Toyota, in a place where it shouldn’t have been parked.
It didn’t take a genius to realize something hinky was going on.
“Okay, are you happy? You’ve confirmed your suspicions. Now will you please secure the crime scene?” The voice in Lou’s head belonged to Showalter, Lou’s late partner. For years, Lou had relied on his colleague for guidance. Even death had not severed their teacher-student relationship.
Earlier, when Lou had walked away from the Toyota to go and get Cara, Showalter had pitched a fit. “You can’t leave a crime scene unattended!”
But Lou had been willing to take that risk because he could keep one eye on the car while standing in Cara’s back room.
“Okay, so I broke a rule. No harm, no foul. Now I have an eyewitness to Kathy climbing inside this very vehicle back on Monday night,” Lou said to Showalter. Getting Cara’s reaction had been a side benefit. She’d obviously been stunned by their discovery.
Lou called his boss, Captain Nathan Davidson, head of Support Services, the division under which Criminal Investigations fell. Davidson listened carefully to Lou’s report before saying, “I’m on my way.”
As Lou ended his call, he heard Skye ask Jason, “Could you help us get Cara to her apartment?”
“No problem,” said Jason. “I can just carry her.” The sleeve of his tee shirt had hiked up his bicep. The exposed skin bore a tattoo, Semper Fi.
“Figures,” said Showalter. “That guy carries himself like a Marine. Once a Marine, always a Marine.”
“You can carry her all the way to the second floor?” asked MJ, batting her lashes at Jason.
“Sure,” Jason repeated.
“This way.” Skye turned toward the store.
“Skye? I’ll n
eed to talk with Cara,” said Lou. When Skye turned to glare at him, he added, “Later. I can talk to her, later.”
Skye was angry, and Lou was pretty sure that he knew why.
Two days ago, he had been sitting with her in Cara’s back room. Over a cup of coffee, he had asked how the media event had gone. Skye had laughingly related how persistent Kathy Simmons had been about buying a photo and how Cara had dug in her heels.
“She really got under Cara’s skin,” Skye had concluded.
When the reporter went missing, that anecdote provided a critical bit of information. If Skye hadn’t shared the story with him, Lou would have never known that Cara was one of the last people to see Kathy before she disappeared. He certainly wouldn’t have guessed that Cara had watched Kathy climb into her car.
He’d used the information that Skye had given him to put Cara on the hot seat.
She’d get over it.
Lou would have turned his attention back to the car, but Skye re-appeared at his elbow. She was still holding Jack, the white Chihuahua.
“You knew there was a corpse in that car, didn’t you?”
“How could I know?” Lou rolled over his palms in a “who could tell” sort of gesture.
“You might not have known, but you guessed as much. I told you Cara was fragile! How could you have put her through this? It was a test, wasn’t it? To see how Cara would react?”
“I’m just doing my job. Clearing suspects,” said Lou.
“Suspects? Cara is my friend. Yours, too,” said Skye. “At least she was. Before you pulled this little stunt.”
CHAPTER 7
~Cara~
When I was little, my dad used to carry me to bed. As my head rested against a masculine chest, I felt loved and protected. I was safe in someone’s arms.
Even if it was just a dream. But it wasn’t a dream.
A big strong guy actually was carrying me. I blinked up at him. Jason. That’s who it was, Jason Robbins.
Then it hit me, Kathy Simmons was dead!
Second Chance at Life Page 2
