Killer Run (20 page)

“You think I have time to go out to eat?” I pointed to the list with
Sunday
written on top. “Look at that list. I'll be lucky if I can pause for a glass of water.”

“I told you I was here to help.” He considered the list. “We should be done by three thirty, four at the latest. We can get there in time for early bird pricing.”

“The way I'm moving, we might qualify for the senior rate.” I rubbed my left shoulder. “Who knew vacation could be so hard on a body?”

Greg set his fork down and came around the table. He put his hands on my shoulders and started to rub. “Not quite the cruise we'd planned, huh?”

I dropped my head, letting his fingers work out the knots in my muscles. “I'm not complaining. I'm getting another room done and earning bonus points with you as the understanding girlfriend. By the time we actually go somewhere, you'll owe me big-time.”

Greg chuckled as he worked on a spot on my neck. I almost wanted to cry his massage felt so good. “I did save you from the crazed attacker yesterday. Doesn't that wipe out some of your understanding points so we're even?”

“Not even close, buddy.” I rolled my head and sighed. Then I opened my eyes and put my hands up to still his hands. “Why aren't you working on the case?”

“Adam's a jerk. He's going to be charged with the vandalism and your attack, but when we ran his prints, the city called. Apparently he is wanted for skipping out on a court appearance, leaving his elderly mother holding the bond. She was weeks away from losing her home.” Greg picked up my cup. “More coffee?”

I nodded. “I can't believe he would do that to his mother.”

Greg filled both of our cups, then walked back and sat. “I know. Son of the year material, right?” He took a sip. “Anyway, the DA says we can't do anything until those charges are dealt with.”

“What about Sandra's murder?” I wondered if Greg already knew what Sasha had told me yesterday.

“No dice there. Unless he hired it out. He and Michael were drinking together at the winery after the big celebrity party. Darla's already confirmed that.” He took another bite of the cheesecake. “Besides, I don't see what he would have to gain from it, especially since he thought Sandra had already passed the blackmail material on.”

“To me.” I held up my hands to the heavens. “How on earth did I get involved?”

He laughed. “Honey, just face it. You're always involved.” He held up a hand, stopping my tirade. “I know, you didn't do this. I'm beginning to think he misunderstood or had just guessed wrong.”

“Whatever. I'm tired of getting dragged into these things.” I stood up and took my plate and cup to the sink. “What do you want? Paint the frame, install wainscoting, or seal the wood floor?”

Greg followed me to the sink and wrapped his arms around me. “Remember that feeling next time you decide to go clue hunting with your aunt.” He kissed my neck. “Give me the sealer and you take Emma with you to the garage. Just in case someone else comes to visit you.”

 

Greg had been spot-on with his estimate of our arrival time at the restaurant. By four thirty, we were already eating our dinner salads. And that had included a quick shower and our drive time. I felt like I hadn't eaten real food for a week, even though we'd gone out just that Friday.

He took a swig off his beer and smiled at me. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“What did you eat last night?” I thought about the pile of tater tots I'd scarfed down in front of the television last night. No use lying, he was a paid investigator.

“A huge bowl of tater tots and special sauce. And, before you ask, I had a banana split for dessert.”

“Balanced dinner.” He waved his fork at me. “I'm surprised your arteries aren't clogged from all the fried food you eat.”

“What can I say, I'm blessed.” A man walked past our table and I looked up into his face. It was the tourist guy. Now this was just getting weird. Either he was stalking me, or we just happened to eat at all the same places. I set my fork down. “Excuse me, I'll be right back.”

I followed the man into the lobby, then caught up with him, turning him by grabbing hold of his arm. “Hey, I thought that was you.”

“Do I know you?” He looked down at me, a smile crossing his lips.

I nodded, feeling my head bounce like a puppy dog. “I own the bookstore and coffee shop in South Cove. I gave you a discount card. So, did you enjoy it?”

He shook his head, looking back into the dining room. “I'm sorry. Did I enjoy what, my meal?”

“Sure, but I was talking about the book. Did you enjoy the travel book you bought?”

He studied me. “You have a strange way of doing customer satisfaction surveys.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I'm devoted to the shop and the happiness of my customers.”

“Okay, then. Actually, I haven't read the book. I bought it for my girlfriend as a gift.” He held his hands palms up. “Anything else you want to ask?”

I felt Greg come up behind me. “Is everything okay?”

I put my arm through his. “Just checking in on a customer. I hope your girlfriend enjoys the book.”

I let Greg lead me back to the table. Our dinners had arrived while I had been talking to the tourist guy. I cut a piece of fish off with my fork and stabbed it.

Greg watched me attack the cod. “You going to tell me what that was all about? The guy looked scared. Don't tell me he has a secret, too.”

G
reg came inside after we finished dinner and the floors had dried hard enough to set up the bed frame. I frowned at the bare floor underneath the bed and put washcloths under each foot. “I was going to go flea market shopping with Amy today. But no, Adam had to ruin my planning.”

“I'll help you put a rug under the bed later.” Greg pulled me close. “I think it looks amazing.”

“The room's not even halfway done. I need mattresses.”

He nodded. “Which are coming tomorrow.”

“And I don't have the rest of the furniture or a rug or even a quilt.” My gaze drifted toward the ceiling. “Or wainscoting. We forgot the wainscoting.”

He turned me around and tilted my head toward his so I could see his eyes. “Stop being a glass-half-empty girl. You're better than that.”

I forced my shoulders down and sank into his chest. “You're good at this, you know?”

“What? Calming you down?” He chuckled. “Lots of experience with overwrought women in my life. You're easy. Your stress comes from the too-high expectations you put on yourself.”

“I like setting and meeting goals, so sue me.” I peeked around Greg to look one more time at the room. It
was
very pretty already.

Greg laughed as he guided me out of the incomplete room and closed the door. “Goals are one thing. You set up a timetable a Greek god couldn't meet.”

We walked arm in arm down the narrow staircase, Emma following. “You want to stay for coffee?”

“We still have cheesecake?” Greg aimed us toward the kitchen. “If so, I'm all in for a cup and a slice.”

We talked for an hour. When Greg stood to leave, I didn't object. My eyelids kept closing, and I was craving climbing in between the sheets of my bed and letting sleep overtake me.

He held me close for a minute. “Go to bed. You're almost ready to drop.”

“Thanks for helping today. I could have done it . . .” A yawn stopped me from finishing the sentence.

“All by yourself, I know.” He stepped out on the porch. “Lock up after me.”

I nodded and followed his instructions. Three minutes later, I was snuggled in bed.

 

I was a load into laundry the next morning when my cell rang. “Hello.”

“Where are you?” my aunt demanded.

“I'm home waiting for the mattress delivery, remember?” I sorted the rest of the clothes into whites and not whites. “You were there when I made the plans.”

“I'll be right over. You need to see this.” The line went dead and I put the phone in the pocket of my cut-offs. I glanced down at Emma, who was ignoring the laundry on the floor next to her.

“Your crazy Aunt Jackie is coming over.”

Emma sat at attention at the mention of the name. I closed the door to the laundry room and went to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee.

I heard her car pull up so I met her at the door. She was dressed in typical Aunt Jackie casual: silk shirt, a floating diamond necklace, and slim dress pants. She made a nod to the warmer weather with flat sandals. She kissed me lightly on the cheek and then looked at my tank and ratty shorts. “I guess you weren't expecting company?”

“You're here, aren't you?” I closed the door and flipped the locks. A habit Greg had forced on me with his multiple lectures about living right off a major highway alone. I'd never really had a problem, but the more I heard from him about break-ins up and down the coastline, the more comfortable I felt with keeping the house locked.

My aunt headed to the kitchen, pausing at the laundry door. “Oh, I didn't realize you were out of decent clothes to wear. You really should do laundry more often.”

I watched her beeline to the coffeepot and pour a cup. Then she pulled out a bag of cookies from her oversized tote and arranged them on one of my good plates. She walked both back to the table.

“I like my outfit. I'm not out of clean clothes, but I've got a lot of work to do today.” I eyed a cookie but went to fill my own cup instead. I went to the table, grabbed what looked like an oatmeal-raisin cookie, and pointed it at her. “So, now that you're done insulting me, what did I need to see?”

She pulled out a newspaper and opened it to the middle. She folded the paper so I could see the article. “This.”

The headline read,
Out-of-the-Way Diner Evokes Classic Memories
. Underneath the headline was a small picture of the tourist guy. “No way. Evan McCurdy, food critic.” I grinned. “I saw him yesterday at dinner with Greg and asked him if he liked the book he bought.”

“You stopped by his table?” My aunt looked surprised.

Now I could feel the heat rise in my face. “No. Actually, I chased him down in the lobby as he was leaving. I think he thought I knew he was doing an undercover diner visit. When I asked him about the book, he seemed relieved.”

“He probably thought you were going to out him.” My aunt took a sip of her coffee. “What did Greg say when you ran off?”

“Actually, he followed me.” Now I really felt like a fool. “I think he thought something was wrong. Then he caught me talking to this guy. I don't know what Greg imagined.”

“I suppose he's used to you and your need to know everything right now.” My aunt pointed at the article. “That's not all I wanted you to see. Read the review.”

I started reading. This must have been the competition Carrie had mentioned that Lille thought was going to blast the diner into popularity. The tourist guy—Evan—I corrected myself, mentioned the contest and that even though Diamond Lille's had been a strong contender, there was just a lot of competition in the area. He ended the piece with a nice overview of South Cove's offering as a Sunday getaway or a staycation destination. I pointed to the last paragraph. “He mentions how cute and customer-friendly Coffee, Books, and More, the local bookstore–slash–coffee shop is.”

“I wonder if he wrote that before or after you ran him down yesterday at that diner?” My aunt dug in her purse. “Anyway, when I went down to the shop to grab these cookies, this was on the fax machine.”

I took the pages and saw on the cover, it had the county courthouse number. “What is this?”

My aunt took a cookie and broke it in half before taking a bite. “I think that is called a clue. Read the attachment Madeline sent.”

I read over the cover where she apologized for missing the attachment on my last visit to the records department. Then I read the rest. By the time I was done, my thoughts were racing.

“Interesting, right?” My aunt watched me over the top of her cup.

“This changes everything. I think this might just lead us to who killed Sandra.” I thumbed through the pages. “It says here Bakerstown Public Relations had an exclusive option to purchase Promote Your Brand for thirty days. And as of last Friday, they were exercising the option.”

“If I were Greg, I'd want to talk to that husband again. Maybe he was trying to sell the business and run away with Rachel.”

I shook my head. “Michael has an alibi. He was drinking with Adam at the winery. And seeing him at the meeting with the California Mission Society, I don't think he could do it. He seemed heartbroken to lose her.”

“Except when he was taking the other woman to lunch, remember?” My aunt shook her finger at me. “Don't let his puppy dog eyes fool you. The man offed his wife to be with his mistress. Oldest story ever told.”

“If Michael was selling this place, all we have to do is give the owner”—I scanned down the papers to the named parties—“Thomas Brown, a call to see who he was dealing with on the sale.”

“Then we turn it over to Greg?”

I nodded. “Then we turn it over to Greg.”

I grabbed my laptop and searched for Bakerstown Public Relations. You would think there wouldn't be enough business for two PR firms in town. Maybe that was why this guy wanted to buy out Sandra and Michael. Except from what I knew, Promote Your Event mostly worked with agencies on onetime events and annual conventions. I guess they'd carved out a niche for themselves. A very profitable niche, from their annual reports.

I found the website and wrote down the number. When I dialed it on my cell, I got a recorded message telling me that the office would be open at ten. I hung up the phone and looked at the clock. “We've got just under three hours before the place opens.”

“Should we drive in to talk to him?” My aunt grabbed for her purse.

I scanned the website for a physical address. “We can't until the mattress arrives. The delivery is scheduled between eight and noon.” When I found the address, I wrote it in my notebook. “Interesting. This office is in the same building and on the same floor as Promote Your Event.”

“Maybe that's how they approached Michael to sell.” My aunt set her purse down again. “So what am I going to do until after ten, when we can call this guy?”

“You could work on the books for the shop.” Last year when my aunt had taken over the bookkeeping for Coffee, Books, and More, she'd also networked my computer with both hers and the one at the shop. That way, we could work at home or in the shop on the accounting and supply ordering. I had a dedicated desktop that I only used for shop business in my office. Well, plus a little pinning of pictures of coffee drinks, books, and dessert treats to the shop's Pinterest board. Okay, a lot of pinning.

“I do hope you've dusted lately in your office.” My aunt took her cup to the pot and refilled. “You know I'm allergic.”

“Knock yourself out. You know where the cleaning supplies are. I'm heading upstairs to make sure there's a path to the guest room for the mattress guys.” I loved my aunt, truly, but sometimes, she knew just the right thing to say that would jerk my chain. Besides, who had time to dust anymore? Probably the same people who ironed. I wasn't even sure where my iron was or whether I still owned one.

The truck with the mattress arrived at nine thirty. By the time the guys had wrestled the mattress through the living room and up the stairs, where it promptly got stuck in the hallway, it was after ten. We had to back it down the stairs, get one of the guys in the bedroom, and then retry the move. This time it worked, and we knew how to get the box springs in the room. I was beginning to rethink my plans for the third bedroom. I'd wanted to set up a home gym, but how would we get the equipment up the narrow stairs? I had a shed out on the property, maybe I should think of using that area.

“Lady, I know I shouldn't say this, but I hope you take your next mattress purchase elsewhere.” The young man wiped the sweat from his forehead.

The other guy, older, shook his head, slapping the other guy on his arm. “Jake's just lazy. You don't worry about it. We can get anything you purchase up these stairs, no problem.”

The younger guy grinned. “Whatever, man. I'm not the one who looks like he's going to have a heart attack.”

“Would you like a bottle of water?” I agreed with Jake. The older man looked pale and drawn.

He nodded. “That would be nice. I'll have Superman here drive us to the next stop.”

I grabbed a couple of bottles of water out of the fridge and bagged up two cookies from the plate on the table. I met the guys on the front porch as they gathered up their tools. “Here you are. Cookies are from Coffee, Books, and More in town. I own the shop and would love to treat the two of you to a coffee someday.”

“My girlfriend loves that place. She's always making me take her there on Saturdays.” Jake grinned. “I don't mind though. We tend to hang out on the beach afterward and man, she looks good in her bikini.”

“You are a dog.” The older man chuckled. He turned to me. “You are very kind. Maybe my wife and I will come visit someday.”

As I watched the truck drive away, my aunt came up behind me. “I swear, you build the customer base one person at a time. How did you know that they would even be interested in visiting the shop?”

I closed the door and turned toward her. “Are you kidding? He wore a wedding ring so there was a chance his wife might enjoy a visit. And the kid? Well, South Cove is for lovers. It's our new log line. What do you think?”

“I hate it.” My aunt handed me my cell, excitement pouring out of her body like a kid on Christmas Eve. “Call the PR guy.”

I hit redial and when the answering machine picked up, it was the same message. But this time, I listened all the way through. “Closed for lunch at one.” I glanced at the clock. We'd just missed him. I set my phone on the coffee table and nodded upstairs. “I'll get sheets on that bed and then come down and make soup and salad for lunch. What do you think?”

My aunt twisted her head to stretch her neck. “I think I'll go back to working on the accounts. Call me when it's ready.”

I switched out a load of laundry and let Emma into the house before I went upstairs. She bounded around, looking for the men whom she'd known were in
her
house. “Too late, baby.” I rubbed under her chin. “The delivery guys have already left.”

She ignored my information and ran upstairs in front of me to keep me safe. When she saw the mattress settled on the bed frame, she sniffed the length of the bed, looking for any sign that the interlopers were still around. I got the sheets out of the linen closet and covered the new mattress. I threw on an old comforter I'd had in the closet, as well. I had to admit, the room was starting to look good. But by the time I was done, it would be as amazing as one of the theme rooms over at South Cove Bed-and-Breakfast.