If the Shoe Kills (15 page)

“Being glad someone's dead doesn't mean you killed them.” Darla sat in the chair next to Matt. She shook a finger at Greg. “And don't you be trying to blame Matt for being honest about how he felt about the guy.”

Greg's lips curved. “If I arrested people for saying they were glad someone died, my jail would be filled constantly.” He smiled at me. “And this one would be a repeat customer.”

“You're always trying to get me behind bars, Detective. I think you may have a fetish or something.”

Darla put her hands over her ears. “La la la, TMI. You two should be more careful about what you say in public.”

Darla's words haunted me throughout the evening. Matt had come close to saying the world was a better place without Ted in it, a sentiment that Becky didn't agree with at all from the look on her face.

As Greg and I walked back into the building, I glanced down the road to see if I could catch a glimpse of where Becky was heading. But she'd disappeared. Greg's hand moved on my back and I turned to look at him.

“Everything isn't a problem to be solved, you know.” Greg's voice was warm and comforting, but it also held a twinge of humor.

Chuckling, I leaned into his shoulder. “Am I that transparent?”

“Practically invisible.” He squeezed me closer. “I'll see what I can find out about the girl. Will that make you happy?”

“I just wish I knew she was sleeping indoors tonight.” As bad as my own childhood had been, I'd never been homeless. Although sometimes I wondered if I would have been stronger if I'd taken a chance as a teenager, leaving the constricting house my mother called a home. But the world, like the ocean I could see sparkling in the moonlight, was filled with sharks who preyed on the young and naïve. Traits Becky shared with the younger version of me. “Hey, I need to tell you about Marie's visit today.”

“That can wait.” Greg kissed me on the forehead and moved toward a table. He set our drinks down and put out his arms. “To everything there is a season. Time to stop worrying for the evening and time to dance.”

“I'm not sure that's how the Byrds wrote the song.” I followed him out to the parquet floor.

He pulled me close into his arms, matching our steps to the soft ballad playing. “The Byrds didn't write that—it's Ecclesiastes, from the Bible.”

“Oh.” I felt my face heat. Attending church hadn't been a house rule, so I hadn't gone very often. My mother had stopped going once my dad passed, worried that those people would look down on a single woman raising her only daughter. And in a way, she was probably right. Not because of being a single parent, but her use of alcohol to get through the day would have been an issue. “I didn't know that.”

Greg pulled me closer. “If you'd spent your childhood attending St. Catherine's Academy, you would know all the popular songs they stole from the Bible. According to Sister Mary Francis, the musicians, their groupies, their production crew, and anyone who had ever listened to the songs were damned to eternal suffering.” He spun me around the floor. “Of course, I think it was mostly because no one asked her to her own prom in high school. The nun could hold a grudge forever.”

I giggled and snuggled into his chest. Yes, the wine was doing its magic. Maybe tonight would be all right after all. Darla hadn't killed Matt for talking to Becky. Regina and David had left earlier. They hadn't even stopped by the table to say good-bye. But maybe she hadn't seen me as clearly as I'd watched the couple on the dance floor.

And I was dancing with my own personal white knight. Although his faithful steed was parked at the house, and we'd walked from my house to Lille's, then from dinner to the winery. When I had questioned Greg earlier, he chuckled. “I plan on having more than one beer tonight, and no way am I giving Toby a reason to pull me over. The kid would have me breathalized and sitting in the drunk tank at the office before I could say, ‘Did I do something wrong, Officer?' ”

“He's got a high level of integrity.” I smiled as I thought about Toby.

Greg shook his head. “Nope, the kid would snap pictures and blackmail me with the evidence.”

That had made me chuckle over dinner, and now, thinking about Toby hunting drunk drivers made me pause. I turned my attention to Greg, who was humming along with the song. “Did you know Toby was dating a real person? With a kid and a job?”

“I'm sure he's dated real people before, love.” Greg continued humming.

I put my hand on Greg's chest. “Yeah, but this time he's monogamous. He's only dating one woman.”

Now Greg's brows raised and I had his complete attention. “So, the boy's getting serious, is he?”

“That's what I'm asking. Has he talked to you about this girl at all?”

Greg shook his head. “Not a word. But we had a deal tonight. You were going to stop trying to save the world and I would ask you to dance. Now one of us has kept their side of the bargain.”

I leaned my head back down on Greg's chest, listening for his heartbeat. “Sorry, I forgot about the contract.”

“You realize there are substantial penalties for breaking the terms. You'll probably have to give me several advantages next time we play the Xbox.” He leaned in and kissed me quickly, our lips barely touching. “And maybe there's something more in the fine print.”

“You're smooth, Detective King. Very smooth.” I smiled and let the music transport me.

I heard Greg whisper in my ear, “Just trying to keep it interesting.”

G
reg's phone buzzed. We were dancing so close, I felt the vibration on my leg. He pulled the offending cell out of his jeans and, glancing at the display, frowned. Greg led me off the dance floor and sat me down at our table. “It's Toby, I've got to take this.”

I watched him walk out of the building, answering the call in motion. Damn that kid, he knew just how to ruin a perfect evening. I finished my glass of wine, knowing that as soon as Greg came back to the table we'd be leaving. I was dating Mr. Dependable. Besides, I knew Toby. He wouldn't have called if he didn't need his boss.

I was knee-deep into my pity party when Greg sat back down next to me. “You've kind of figured out what I was going to say, huh?” He wiped a stray tear from my cheek.

Sniffing, I nodded. “Toby wouldn't call unless there was a problem. So, what's going on?”

Greg tapped his phone absently. “Honestly, I'm not exactly sure, but Toby says someone's broken the front window in The Glass Slipper.”

“No! Any other damage on the street?” Coffee, Books, and More sat across from Marie's shop. “Was it a riot?”

He laughed and took my hand. “No riot. Toby says your shop is fine. He's on his way here to pick us up. He'll drop you off at the house before taking me to the crime scene.”

“Great, another drop-off in a police cruiser. If I had any neighbors besides Esmeralda, I'd sure be giving them gossip fodder.”

“Why do you think Esmeralda works at the station? She's the biggest gossip in South Cove.” He put his arm around my shoulders and walked me out to the patio to wait for our ride.

Toby had the lights of the cruiser flashing but he didn't have the sirens going. At least until he spotted us sitting at an outdoor table. People sitting around us jumped, glancing around to see who was in trouble. When Greg led me out to the cruiser, I heard the whispers. Great, by this time tomorrow I'd be arrested, convicted, and on my way to the California Penitentiary for Wayward and Wanton Women, at least in the South Cove gossip mill.

Greg sat me in the backseat. I blocked the door with my arm.

“Seriously? Not again. I call shotgun.” I started to stand, but he gently pushed me back into the seat. He closed the door quickly this time.

Toby was laughing, I could tell from the shake of his shoulders and the crinkle in his eyes as he glanced into the rearview window. “You okay back there?”

Greg climbed into the passenger side and turned his head toward me. “Toby, didn't anyone tell you never to poke a caged bear?”

“Sorry, boss.” Toby swung the car back out onto the street.

I leaned my head back on the bench seat, then jerked upright. I'd drunk just enough wine that the movement of the car was starting to feel like a roller coaster. “I'm not sure if I'm more upset about the bear comment or being stuck in the back, again.”

“Well, make up your mind soon, sweetheart, we're almost at your house.” Greg flipped through the electric file that had been created when the 911 call had been placed. “Marie called in the vandalism?”

“She wasn't on site when I arrived. It was her intern, Mindy.” Toby pulled the cruiser into my driveway.

“Mindy saw who did this?” I leaned forward, trying to see what Greg was looking at on his tablet.

“No, she was in the building cleaning up after the last class. Mindy said Marie had left instructions for her to lock up after she was done and . . .”

“That's enough, Toby. Jill needs to stay out of the investigation.” Greg pointed his finger at his deputy. “You're just feeding her addiction, you know that, right?”

“I'm not addicted to sleuthing. I'm good at it.” I pouted as Greg came around to open the back door.

He pulled me out of the car and kissed me. “Go inside and go to bed. I'll call you in the morning.”

“Find Marie. I'm worried about her.” I leaned into him as we walked to my front porch. “She might be in danger.”

Greg took my keys and unlocked my front door. “And you might just read too many mysteries. I'm sure Marie's home in her apartment. I'll make sure to check though, just for you.”

I kissed him quickly. “I'm serious, I'm worried. I signed up for the class tonight. Maybe if I'd been there . . .”

“Jill, stop. The class was already over before the incident happened. There was nothing you could have done.”

“I feel guilty skipping.”

His slow, sexy smile gave me pause. “I know you do. I'll make sure she's okay. Just make sure you lock up tonight.”

“No one's going to try to hurt me.” But Greg had already turned and stepped off the porch.

“Let's keep it that way, okay?” he called back. When he reached the car and I was still standing in the doorway, he motioned me into the house with both hands. I nodded and closed the door, engaging the dead bolt along with the one in the doorknob. And then I went to the kitchen to let in Emma.

I glanced at the clock on the stove, ten thirty. My night out had lasted longer than most of our impromptu dinners, especially in the middle of the week. I wondered if Sherry had felt lonely when he'd chosen work over time with her. I knew Greg had to be available twenty-four/seven. But, of course, so did I. My afterhours emergencies so far this year had added up to exactly one trip down to the shop to let Aunt Jackie in because she'd locked her keys in the apartment upstairs. When I asked her where the spare was, she had nodded to the locked shop.

“At least it was secure,” I told Emma, who wagged her tail like she knew exactly what I was saying. I grabbed my notebook and a pen. Time to sketch out a possible motive for Ted's murder and update all the possible suspects. I grabbed the laptop, as well, and settled into the couch. I threw a blanket over my legs against the chill and started writing down names.

An hour later, I found a mention of Becky and Ted. Apparently a gossip columnist had seen them on an alleged date at the boardwalk carnival. The woman had known Ted's family history and apparently played up the fact that Becky “might” be underage. I moved down to the next entry from the search listing. A full retraction of the column as well as a mention of how the author had been let go. The newspaper regretted their inaccurate portrayal of an upstanding member of the community.

I didn't think they were referencing Becky.

I bookmarked the web pages and wrote the links in my notebook just in case. I closed down the laptop and glanced at Emma, who slept curled up on the couch next to me. “Time for bed?”

She jumped up and went to the bottom of the stairs and waited. I turned off the lights and glanced out the window toward town, wondering what had happened on Main Street tonight and praying that Marie was all right.

 

Friday morning came without the alarm going off, since Toby and Jackie worked all the shifts, giving me a full day off. Jackie liked having Monday and Tuesday off. And Toby just liked working. I wondered how long that would be the case once he had a family to go home to. It sounded like that time was closer than I'd imagined.

After Emma and I ran, I puttered around the house, throwing in laundry, considered a grocery run, and then found myself curled up on the couch with a book. When the cell chimed, I considered letting it go to voice mail, but saw the shop's number on the display. “Hey, how are things this morning?”

“Peachy.” Aunt Jackie's voice sounded pleased with herself, like she'd just won a salesmanship prize. “Did you know Marie's shop was vandalized last night?”

“Good morning to you, too.” I absently petted Emma's head. “Have you seen her? Is she all right?”

“She's fine. Madder than a wet cat, but fine. She came over and bought coffee for the work crew that's replacing her window. Does Greg know who did it yet?”

I pursed my lips. I hadn't even thought about calling to see what he'd found out. Maybe I was losing my touch on this sleuthing thing. Last night Darla had called me basically clueless and now I hadn't even called my one reliable source. “If he does, he hasn't told me.” I sat forward on the couch. “Maybe I should come down and talk to Marie.”

“Don't bother. She drove into Bakerstown to pick up Mindy. She's giving her some real work for the next week.”

The line quieted and I'd thought I'd lost the connection.

“You know, if we all gave up a few hours, we could bring Sasha on full-time after the first of the year. It would give her time to get up and running before tourist season hits full force. And we always need extra help during whale-watching season.”

My aunt had made the pitch I'd been thinking about for a week. “We'll see. I'll talk to Toby first. I don't want to short him hours to bring on someone new.”

“I'm sure he'd be on board with the program.” Jackie paused. “By the way, we're having a little party next Saturday.”

“Who's ‘we'?” I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

“Coffee, Books, and More. We're doing a book drive promotion and bringing all the kids into the shop to meet Santa and give him their wish list. I'm sure I mentioned this to you when we set up the program.”

“I'm pretty sure I would have remembered a party.” I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a notebook, needing to start writing down all the things that needed to be done in a week. “I don't have a lot of time to pull this off.”

“No worries, Sasha and I are handling everything.” Jackie sniffed. “Besides, the mayor's wife flat-out told us we couldn't have a Santa because it didn't fit with her festival plans. She thinks the New Age parents will be insulted.”

“Wait, so you're not having Santa?”

Jackie laughed. “You're kidding, right? I told the witch to go ruin someone else's holiday. That we've got plans and won't be participating in her watered-down holiday festival. I hear she wanted a black and silver theme. Who does black and silver for Christmas? I swear, the woman is crazy.”

“When did you talk to Tina?” I groaned. The mayor would be calling me into his office for once again failing to support his wife's mission. I was beginning to hate Christmas.

“This morning. She came in looking for you with a list of dos and don'ts three pages long. I threw it away.”

“Aunt Jackie, did it ever occur to you to play nice? The woman is in charge of the town's festival program this year. Maybe we should at least read the material she's presenting.” I heard the door chime to the shop.

“Fine. I'll pull the Nazi woman's list out of the trash and put it on your desk. But you aren't telling me no on the kid's Santa party. I think this could become a CBM tradition.” Jackie called out a greeting to the customer. “Look, I'm busy. We'll talk tomorrow.” Then the line went dead.

I flipped through my call history, just to make sure I hadn't missed a call from City Hall today. But no, the call from Jackie had been my first of the day. Not unusual in quiet times, but I knew Tina wouldn't let Jackie's refusal stay unpunished. I would be getting a reprimand.

I started a list of items that needed to be completed before next week's party. I checked my pre-planning list for Thanksgiving. Nothing I needed to do this weekend, but next weekend was chock-f of must-dos. I highlighted a few chores and moved them up a week.

Greg found me out in the shed at four, still in sweats, my hair pulled into a ponytail. I had gone through most of the boxes and still hadn't found the gravy boat in Miss Emily's good china pattern I knew I'd seen. I had found a glass turkey centerpiece vase for the table; all I had to do was purchase a potted plant to set inside the brown glass feathered body.

He kissed the top of my head as he surveyed the mess. “You looking for something?”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” I glared at him. “The rose-patterned gravy boat that goes with the good china.”

“The one in the china cabinet in the living room?” Greg appeared puzzled.

I groaned. “It isn't in there, is it?” I'd spent the last four hours digging through the boxes of china and other miscellaneous stuff. I'd meant to get an antique dealer in from Bakerstown to appraise the lot and sell what I didn't want. I just couldn't bring myself to part with my friend's stuff, not quite yet.

“Remember, we came out and found the missing serving pieces last month when you were freaking out about Thanksgiving?” He pulled me into a hug. “What's got you going today?”

“Jackie's decided to host a party with Santa at the shop next week for the center kids. It threw off all my plans; now I have to move things around.” I stepped away from Greg and closed a box and pushed it to the side, dusting off my hands. I surveyed the piles of boxes. “I need to do something with these.”

“You will, when you're ready. No need to push the process.”

I watched him, standing in the gloom of the shed as the daylight drained from the one dirty window. “You're pretty good at this boyfriend thing, you know?”

His grin flashed. “Better than you realize sometimes. Now, let's go in. I thought we'd have an early dinner since I didn't have lunch, and if I'm right, you forgot to eat.”

My stomach growled in answer. “I've been busy.” I waved my hands around the shed. “Looking for something that apparently I'd already found.”

Greg put his arm around me and we walked together toward the house. “Life's a lot like that, sweetheart.”

The smell of chicken Alfredo and garlic bread hit me as soon as we walked into the kitchen door. I kissed Greg on the cheek. “You cooked.”