Killer Run (15 page)

I took out my phone and showed her the almost painted room, pointing out the placement of furniture I'd planned for the room. As we were talking, Aunt Jackie came in through the back of the shop dressed in a white pantsuit with a coral-colored shirt underneath. The perfect outfit to go hunting through dusty, dirty rooms in antique shops and flea markets. I guess I should have been more specific.

“You know we're going antique shopping, right?” I pointed at her outfit. “You're going to look like you're wearing brown by the time we return. I know you own jeans, you wore them yesterday.”

“You need to learn to wear something besides jeans.” Aunt Jackie looked down at her outfit. “Besides, I wore low-heeled sandals. I'll be fine. I know how to act like a lady and not get grubby.”

Sasha laughed. “Besides, I don't think a speck of dirt would dare land on you.”

My aunt shook her finger at the girl. “Don't be smart. And pour me a large black to go, as well, since my niece forgot to order one for me.”

“I was just showing Sasha the floor plan. I want to start at the flea market, then move to the shops on antique row, and end up either at Home Heaven or the mattress store, or maybe both.” I listed off my agenda.

My aunt handed me an envelope. “Josh brought this by last night for you. It's an estimate for the pieces you wanted. He said he'd throw in delivery for free.”

“Since it's less than a mile, I would hope so.” I put the envelope in my tote with my notebook. I'd open it if I found a piece to replace the ones I'd found at Antiques by Thomas. Even though the man was dating my aunt, I was pretty sure I wouldn't get a family discount.

We said our good-byes to Sasha, Aunt Jackie leaving a new list of to-dos for her to complete since the customer traffic was so low. As we settled in to the Jeep, I strapped on my seat belt. “You know you don't have to leave her a list of things to do every time you see her. She knows her job now.”

My aunt clicked her own belt and shrugged, looking back into the shop. “It's good for her to learn exactly what it takes to run the shop. I think she'd be a great manager someday, if you don't let her get lazy and read books all the time when she's supposed to be working.”

I pulled the Jeep onto Main, heading to the highway. “Part of her job is to run the kids' book club. If she's not reading the books, how is she supposed to lead the discussions? Besides, reading isn't just a requirement for the job, it's the best part.”

“Let's just say we have a different opinion on the priority of tasks we assign our staff.” My aunt grabbed the papers from the backseat. “Is this what you've read through?”

Nodding, I turned the Jeep onto the highway, passing by the beach parking lot, which was completely empty this morning. “That's it. And I didn't see anything that would lead us to Sandra's killer.”

“Don't give up on my method quite yet.” She went to the first page, where I'd put a colored sticker. “What's this?”

“I marked places where she talked about her client list and the number each year. I also marked places where I didn't understand what they were talking about.” I shrugged. “Well, not all the places. I would have had a sticker on every page that way.”

“You really need to learn more about the business of running a business.” My aunt set the pages down. “Tell me what you didn't understand and I'll walk you through the process.”

It was going to be a long drive. I took a deep breath and started listing off the parts of the reporting process I didn't understand.

By the time we reached Bakerstown, I knew more about reporting requirements than I ever wanted to know or cared to admit. As a family lawyer, I knew there were tons of laws and regulations I should understand about the store, but business law had always bored me to the core.

Today's drive had reminded me not only of why I hadn't chosen corporate law for my career, but also why I counted so much on my aunt to help me with the business side of the shop. Heaven help me if I ever lost her.

“W
hat about this one?” Aunt Jackie held up a quilt. The patterns and colors screamed modern and didn't even match my vision of what I was looking for.

I shook my head. We'd been to almost all of the booths with no luck for the bed frame or a quilt to cover the bed or one to hang on the quilt frame sitting in Josh's back room. “It's not what I'm looking for. I want something that looks old, maybe a scrap quilt or even a log cabin pattern.”

“I don't know why you don't just buy something new. There's a linen store just up the street,” my aunt grumbled and headed to the next booth. “This one looks promising. At least it has some furniture.”

I followed her into the room and ran straight into a woman with a walker. The metal walker tipped, but the woman stayed standing. “Oh, I am so sorry. I didn't see you.” I looked into the face of Rachel's neighbor, Cathy Addy.

“No harm done, dear. They don't make the aisles here very old-lady friendly.” She peered into my face. “You're Rachel's friend, aren't you?”

“Yes, well, I mean, she's my travel agent.” I wouldn't have called the two of us friends. “I stopped by a few days ago.”

“I remember. I was watering the plants. Good thing, too, since that girl still hasn't shown up at the office. I put up a sign on the door saying she'd reopen next week. At least that way, people aren't coming over and bothering me about her hours.” Cathy ran her hand over a pillow that pronounced that
Coastal California Is for Lovers
in hand-done cross-stitch. “Although her shop does bring in stragglers to the yarn store.”

“I run the coffee shop and bookstore in South Cove, so I get a lot of drop-ins from the other businesses on Main Street.” I didn't think yarn had much to do with travel, though, and I figured the traffic went more from Cathy's store over to Rachel's. I thought about seeing Rachel and Michael meeting for lunch. If she wasn't running the agency, where was she? “Have you heard from her?”

“Honestly, no, and I'm beginning to worry a bit. You don't think something's happened to her and she's hurt in the house somewhere?” Cathy shrugged. “I looked through all the windows yesterday, but I couldn't see anything out of place. The girl keeps a clean house, that's for sure.”

I could just see Cathy positioning her walker up to the first-floor windows and peering inside. On an instinct, I asked another question. “You don't remember seeing a man around, do you? Was Rachel dating?”

Cathy shook her head. “I tried to set her up with my grandson. He's a plumber and makes an excellent income, but she said she wasn't in the market for a man. I assumed there was a heartbreak somewhere in her past. Of course, she had clients coming in and out during the day, but I never saw her leave with anyone. It's too bad.”

“What's too bad?” I had been scanning the booth for my aunt and hadn't heard past the failed matchmaking comment.

Cathy pushed her walker past me and toward a pile of Beanie Babies. “I just meant if she had been involved, I'd know she was safe. A woman needs a man to take care of her.”

Like a fish needs a bicycle. I pointed toward the other side of the booth. “Oh, there's my aunt. I'd better catch up with her. Nice to see you again.”

As I wandered through the tables to meet up with Aunt Jackie, I wondered if the reason Rachel had turned down the blind date was because she was already involved with Michael. I took my aunt's arm and led her out of the booth. “Time to check out the antique shops.”

An hour later I'd found the perfect wrought-iron bed frame. Or what would be perfect after I scraped off the flaking paint and repainted it shiny black. The frame was in good shape, too, and would hold a queen-size mattress, which I ordered after a quick stop at the mattress store. Delivery would be on Monday.

“I'm hungry, you know.” Aunt Jackie pointed toward a local fast-food drive-in. “Stop there and I'll buy us burgers for the drive home. I need to get back and get ready for work. Some of us aren't on vacation.”

I glanced in the rearview mirror, where I could see the frame. We'd had to put the back seats down, but luckily it had fit in the back of the Jeep. After spending way too much money at the mattress store, I'd popped into Home Heaven and bought the wainscoting, paint, and sandpaper. If everything went well, I'd have the bed cleaned, prepped, painted, and set up upstairs before the mattress delivery occurred next Monday. I was feeling pretty good about my progress.

We ordered, and as we waited for the food, Aunt Jackie pointed to a name on one of the filing reports. “Did you see this?”

I leaned forward and read the line she had her finger resting on. “Diamond Lille's was a client of the Ashfords?”

My aunt flipped backward through the report. “At least they were a couple of years ago.”

The window opened and the bag with our food appeared. I drove over to a parking spot and distributed the food. The place was known for the best tater tots in town. I could smell the pounds attaching to my hips as I pulled out the paper container. “What would Promote Your Event do for a small diner?”

My aunt unwrapped her bacon cheeseburger and shrugged. “A lot of shops do a marketing campaign to see if they can bring in more business.”

I thought about Lille's plan to buy out Harrold. “Or maybe they need to pave the way for an expansion?”

My aunt took a bite of her burger, then waved it at me. “Don't even think that way. There's no evidence that Ashford was involved in what happened to The Train Station. Besides, Sandra was already dead before the first vandalism happened. I don't think Michael is in any condition to harass an old man. He seems like he's barely hanging on.”

I thought about his lunch with Rachel. Didn't seem like he was a grieving widower that day. But Jackie was right, it was leaping to conclusions to blame Ashford for Harrold's trouble until I saw a pattern. But at least I knew what to look for in the pile of reports I still had to review tonight. And if Diamond Lille's was an ongoing client, that might give me enough to talk to Greg about my suspicions. I dug into my mushroom Swiss burger with an enthusiasm I hadn't felt for a long time. The pieces were all falling into place.

Finally.

By ten that night, I was feeling less optimistic. The paint on the bed frame wasn't coming off, and an Internet search of the problem told me I needed to return to Home Heaven, again, to pick up the chemicals to strip the paint from the frame. Sanding the stuff would take me a few months, if even then. I kicked myself for not talking to one of the yellow-vested experts running around the store. Greg laughed at me when he called to check in and I explained my problem. He also gave me a list of the type of paint stripper and tools I'd need to pick up. So eventually, I kind of forgave him for laughing. Especially when he reminded me of the earrings he'd given me earlier in the week.

My shoulders and arms ached from the wasted effort trying to sand off the frame, so I stood in the shower until the hot water began to cool. After that, I dressed in my favorite camisole and pajama pants, then went downstairs to heat up a can of soup. I took the pile of unread pages out of my office along with the sofa pillows and set the papers on the coffee table. When I had my bowl of soup and a peanut butter sandwich ready, I added a soda and took the food out to the living room on a tray. Emma sniffed the air, but I told her to lie down. “You have dog food in the kitchen if you're hungry.”

She huffed and turned a few circles before she lay next to the coffee table within smelling distance of my cream of mushroom soup. Ignoring her pleading eyes, I dug into the soup as I turned on the television. The local news was just finishing, and there was a story on the Bakerstown Business Council. Watching the interview of their liaison, I thought about both the Ashfords and Rachel's business. Maybe they attended the business council meetings? I knew things about the people who attended South Cove's Business-to-Business meeting. Maybe I should call up my peer and see if she had any gossip for me. I wrote down the name of the liaison along with the name of her shop, Bakerstown Floral. Looked like I'd be making two stops tomorrow.

Finished with dinner, I gave Emma the crust off the bread and pulled the pile of papers onto my lap. Two hours later, I'd gone through the rest of the papers, and not found a single mention of Diamond Lille's in the paperwork. So Promote Your Event wasn't working with Lille. Or at least, they weren't putting it down on paper. I pushed off the idea. There was something going on with the diner and Harrold's. I didn't think Lille had actually done the window painting or smashing, but that boyfriend of hers was a definite possibility.

I took my tray into the kitchen and started turning out lights. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about what I didn't know.

 

First stop in the morning was to Aunt Jackie's to drop off the rest of the Ashford records. Since my initial review had gotten me nowhere, I hoped my aunt had a magic touch. Besides, I wanted the papers out of my house to keep Greg from seeing them. I didn't mind keeping some secrets from him, but explaining our digging into the Ashfords would be hard. And he'd probably ask for the earrings back or something.

As I drove past Diamond Lille's, I saw Lille outside talking to someone who looked familiar. I slowed the Jeep and realized she was talking to Homer Bell. Homer, who owned the food truck. He got in his car and drove away as I pulled into the parking slot on the street he'd just cleared.

I quickly stepped out of the Jeep and called over the top of the roof, “Why are you talking to Homer?”

Lille paused and frowned. “Why do you care?”

I walked around the Jeep and stood in front of her. “Are you trying to buy the food truck? He said there was another party interested.”

She laughed. “I should have known it was you. Homer's playing both of us. Now he says there's a third party interested.”

“Great.” I shook my head. “I'm not sure I can deal with a price war. Why do you want the food truck anyway?”

“Like it's any of your business?” Lille leaned against the diner wall and lit up a cigarette. She took two long drags, then put it out again, using the side of the building. She smirked at me. “Don't judge. I know I'm not supposed to smoke in front of the shop.”

I held up my hands. “No judging here. But aren't you expanding the shop?”

Her head jerked up, and she stared at me. “Where did you hear that?” She held up her hand. “Don't tell me. Carrie's been gossiping again.”

“I, well, Harrold told me you were looking at buying his place.” I tried to duck the fact that Lille's best waitress was the original source of the rumor. No use getting her in trouble. I liked Carrie.

“And he also told you he told me no.” She tucked the cigarette back into her pack and put it into her apron pocket. “I've been thinking about expanding into the food festivals. That way I can increase my business and keep the diner here the same.” She glanced toward The Train Station. “At least for the next few years. Who knows how long Harrold will want to keep the place going? Eventually I might get lucky.”

“That's what I was going to do with the truck.” I leaned on the Jeep. “Well, I guess good luck with the deal. I hope one of us gets the van.”

Lille snorted. “I'm sure you really mean that.” She spun around on her heel and went into the diner.

I climbed back into the Jeep and headed into town. When Aunt Jackie answered her door, I held out the pile of papers for her to take. “I know who our competition is for the food truck.”

“Let me guess, Diamond Lille's?” She took the papers and turned to let me in the door. “Do you want some breakfast?”

The smell of fried ham and fresh baked bread filled the small apartment. “I could be convinced.” I went over and poured myself a glass of orange juice from the decanter she had sitting on her table. “How'd you know?”

She filled a second plate with ham, eggs, and a slice of fresh-from-the-oven bread. “Just did the numbers. Homer doesn't know that many people, and he doesn't like going in to Bakerstown because he sees it as the big city.”

“So, if he was working a buyer, it would have to be someone here.” I slathered butter on the bread and took a bite, thinking about the sale from Homer's perspective. “But that doesn't make sense. He's got a third buyer and there's just the two of us in town who could use a food truck.”

My aunt held up her fork. “Three.”

I turned my head and watched her eat the piece of ham. “I don't know a third.”

My aunt smiled. “Of course you do. We're one of their best customers.” She waited, but when I didn't catch on, she said, “Pies on the Fly.”

I shook my head. “Sadie doesn't want a full-time job. Just something to keep her busy.”

“The food truck wouldn't have to be full-time. She could take it to festivals on the weekends, like we were planning.” My aunt focused on her breakfast for a few minutes, then added, “Look, I know she's your friend, but friends don't tell each other everything.”

“Maybe not, but if Sadie was looking at something this big, she would have told me.” I finished my orange juice and refilled the glass.

Aunt Jackie shrugged. “If you say so. But I know Homer. He didn't reach out past South Cove's borders for his buyers. I guess they might have come looking for him if someone knew he was thinking about selling. Have you decided on our maximum bid level? We need to have a firm figure before we start negotiating. If we don't get this one, another truck will come available someday.”