Death of the Couch Potato's Wife: Cozy Christian Mysteries (Women Sleuth, Female Detective Suspense) (11 page)

I swallowed quickly, trying to appear casual and cool. The hot liquid burned going down my throat, and I sputtered for a moment. So much for appearing cool. “I ran into him at his store.”

“And?” She leaned forward and nodded.

I shrugged and gripped my coffee mug. “He says he’s not guilty.” I wanted to include the fact that Jerry was having an affair, but I didn’t. It wasn’t my place—although I really wanted to share.

Tiara leaned closer. “I heard the police haven’t found him yet, that he disappeared again.”

I nodded. “That’s the rumor.”

“Do you think he did it?”

I shrugged. “It’s hard to say.” Jerry claimed Harry murdered Candace. I couldn’t share that fact either. This gossip thing was really tempting. I sipped my drink to keep my mouth busy and silent.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re okay.” Tiara patted my knee before picking up her cream-laced coffee again. “You just never know about people these days.”

I should take this opportunity to ask her about Donna, to find out what was stressing out Mrs. Prim and Proper. I needed to start shortening my list of suspects. The words were on the tip of my tongue when my doorbell rang again. What was up with people stopping by all the time? Was this typical for small-town America?

I opened the door and saw Donna there, cookies in hand. “I saw Tiara stop by. You guys can’t have a pow-wow without me!” She laughed, though the high-pitch chuckle made her seem nervous. I wondered what Donna had to be nervous about?

“Come on in.”

She shoved the cookies into my hands as she joined Tiara on the couch.

I poured her a mug of coffee and heard Tiara filling her in while I did so.

“That’s just awful, Laura,” Donna said, sitting with her legs crossed at the ankles and hands folded over her knees. I wondered if she’d ever done any beauty pageants. She seemed the type.

I set her coffee on the table. “I know. It is awful. I can’t believe all of this has happened in our neighborhood.”

Tiara shook her head. “I hope they catch that no-good loser.”

I cleared my throat. Though I didn’t want to do it, I knew I needed to change the subject. “So, what’s new with you two?”

They both shrugged, as if the subject change disappointed them. Silence reigned for a moment, as if any other topic of conversation left them mystified.

“We’re getting new carpet,” Tiara offered.

“Matthew got first place in the spelling bee at school,” Donna said.

We went through our usual chitchat about clothes and TV shows and happenings about town. When silence fell, Donna turned an inquisitive gaze on me.

“So, how do you like your new role as a housewife? It’s a big change from having a nine-to-five job, isn’t it?” She sipped her drink, peering at me as she waited for my response.

“It sure is.” That was my understatement of the year. I’d give anything to be working as publicist for J.W. and Associates again. All those designer clothes I used to wear to work were just going to waste. Not to mention all my time.

“Is Kent enjoying his new job?” Donna blinked and waited for my answer.

Enjoying the job more than me. “Yes, he seems to be.”

“I wish my husband enjoyed his job.” Tiara tapped her extra- long manicured fingernails on the arms of the chair. “All he ever does is complain. And then he’s so tired when he gets home. He just wants to watch TV and veg out. I remember the days when we’d go out on the town, when we’d sit beside each other on the couch and snuggle. Now we each have our own chairs.”

“It’s happens to every good marriage,” Donna said matter- of-factly.

“It sure does,” Tiara agreed.

I leaned forward, nearly holding my breath with anticipation. “What does? What happens to every good marriage?” What did they know that I didn’t?

“Every good marriage grows stale,” Tiara said. “It’s just a part of life. We’re in the winter stage.”

“But you’re only in your thirties!”

“It’s not a matter of age, sweetie. It just happens after the newness wears off. Habit and routine sets in. Priorities change. Kids come along.” She shrugged nonchalantly, as if she’d just announced a menu selection. “It’s just life.”

“But spring always comes after the winter, right?” I couldn’t believe that my marriage was doomed to be like this for good. This had to be just a phase.

Donna and Tiara looked at each other for a split-second. Then Donna shrugged again. “Sometimes. You think it’s bad now, you just wait until you have kids. He stops seeing you as a woman and starts seeing you as a mom.” She sighed ever-so- briefly, and I thought for sure she wasn’t as laid-back about this conversation as she tried to appear. “But, like Tiara said, it’s just life. You’ve got to roll with it.”

Maybe we shouldn’t have kids, then. My mind raced with a million thoughts, all of them near panic-stricken.

“Oh, Tiara. We’re scaring the poor girl. She obviously thinks marriage is much better than it is.” Donna laughed, but it sounded brittle. Then she sighed. “So, has anyone heard when Candace’s funeral will be?”

I was grateful for the subject change, even if it meant going back to the topic of murder. “It’s Monday, I heard.”

“Who’s organized it? I mean, with Jerry being MIA and all?” Tiara asked.

“The community church did. I guess Candace was an only child, and both of her parents are deceased. With Jerry out of the picture, the church stepped up.” Someone had called me today and asked if I could make a casserole for the reception afterward. I said yes, of course. Now I had to figure out what I could make that would edible for that many people. The last thing we needed was another murder in town, this one thanks to my cooking.

Tiara glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run, ladies. My spinning class starts in thirty.”

I leaned forward, my interest sparked. “Where do you take spinning?”

“Over at the gym. If you want to call it a gym. It’s really just two rooms—one with weights, and one for the occasional exercise class. There’s usually hardly anyone in there. Aside from Harry. Harry’s always there.”

Harry? Suddenly, I felt energy return to me. “I’ve been wanting to try out spinning.”

Tiara waved her hand in the air, beckoning me to follow.

“You should come then. The first class is free.”

Chapter 13

The gym in Boring was really just an old gas station that had several weight machines and a treadmill. I’d never done a spinning class before, but I had seen it done on TV. How hard could it be?

My eyes scanned the place as I walked in. Across the room, on a machine that looked more like a torture device, sat a heaving and huffing Harry. I watched him a moment. Could he be the killer? Or was Jerry just trying to throw me off his trail? I mean, a couch is a pretty trivial thing to commit murder over. I suppose people had committed crimes because of less, though.

A window separated the spinning room from the weight equipment. That meant that while my legs went round and round, I could also keep an eye on Harry, see if he acted suspicious.

“You need to get warmed up first,” Tiara said. “You know, stretch out.”

I glanced through the window at Harry, still working diligently with a weight machine that made his muscles bulge. I’m sure that was the effect he was going for. I noticed a couple other females in the class eyeing him.

“He likes to show off for the ladies,” Tiara whispered, all the while pulling her leg nearly over her head. How did she bend that way?

I tried to copy her and nearly tumbled onto my face. I’d stick with something more basic—I reached for my toes, but only got to my knees. I never was the athletic type; I left that to Kent.

Speaking of Kent—I glanced at my watch. It was dinnertime. I wondered if he’d be home on time today. I needed to ask him where he went every Friday. I’d been so mad that I didn’t even bother to leave him a note to say where I was.

Maybe our marriage was going south. Maybe Donna and Tiara were right, and I should just give in to the inevitable routine of a stale marriage.

“Laura! Great to have you here. Your first time doing a spinning class?” A neighbor, Karen Jones, who lived two streets over approached me, looking very fit and trim in her exercise outfit.

“No, I’ve never done spinning before.” How hard could it be? I just had to ride an exercise bike for thirty minutes, right?

Karen patted my hand. “I’ll try and take it easy on you, then.” She grinned. What did that mean?

As I climbed onto my stationary bike, I glanced back over to where Harry was.

His machine was empty.

My gaze flew across the gym. I didn’t see him anywhere.

Where did he go?

“Okay, let’s start this slow, ladies. Let’s go nice and easy to get warmed up.”

I turned the pedals round and round. Already, my behind hurt from the impossibly small seat.

“You doing okay, Berry?”

I glanced at my instructor, horrified that she’d called me out. “Just fine, thanks.”

I tried to pay attention as we went up hills and raced in an imaginary bike run and then went up and down several more hills.

Sweat poured down my brow.

I glanced back out at the weight machines. Still no Harry. Did he leave? Where could he have gone?

“I need your full attention, Berry. Spinning takes concentration.”

I snapped my gaze back to Karen—who, now that I thought about it, used to be a drill sergeant in the army. Convenient.

Why did everyone else in the class look like they were enjoying it? Riding these bikes was torture, pure and simple. The other participants were smiling despite the sweat dripping down their faces. A few even cheered on occasion. They were obviously all freaks.

I tried to keep my head facing Karen and let my eyes look to the side. A moment later, Harry emerged from the nook where the bathrooms and water fountain were located, sipping a paper cup of water and talking to someone.

The Godfather.

My new neighbor, whose name escaped me at that moment.

The conversation didn’t look lighthearted and fun. There weren’t any smiles or laughing eyes. Harry scanned the room, as if to make sure there were no listening ears or watching eyes.

Then he slipped something out of his pocket and handed it to the Godfather.

Could Harry have paid him to knock off Candace?

“How you doing, Berry?”

Karen’s voice snapped me back to reality. Suddenly, my legs began moving in circles and I couldn’t stop them. My thighs burned. My calves were crying out. My gluteus maximus demanded a break.

Before I could convince them otherwise, my muscles went as limp as spaghetti and I sprawled across the floor.

“Spinning class, huh? I never thought you’d be interested in something like that.” Kent placed another compress on my knee, which had rammed into the bike on my way to the ground.

“What better time than now to get into shape?” I tried to bend my other leg and grimaced. Man, were my muscles sore. Already. That wasn’t a good sign.

“It’s a good thing Tiara could bring you home. I don’t think you could have driven in your current state.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to let my muscles recover.”

“You pushed yourself too hard. Karen Jones feels terrible. She’s called three times to check on you.”

I scowled. “Karen Jones is a Nazi. She delighted in torturing me.”

Kent smiled. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh, but it is. That class was just awful.”

“Hopefully the pain reliever will kick in soon.” Kent sat across from me. “In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about your day? Anything exciting happen?”

“I ran into Jerry Flynn. Does that count?”

“I thought I’d heard rumor of such.”

“Working in the pharmacy, I guess you get to hear everything.” You would have heard it directly from me, but you weren’t there when I stopped by. I don’t know why I didn’t voice my thoughts aloud. Maybe I wasn’t ready to face reality if I didn’t like his answer.

“I can’t believe he was hiding in town this whole time.”

“I can’t believe he was having an affair. I mean, how do people get to that point in their marriage?”

“They don’t respect their vows. They don’t feel their partner is making them happy anymore, so they look for someone who can. We were talking about this at our last men’s Bible study. When you first get married, you concentrate on making the other person happy. After awhile, it becomes about your spouse making you happy. The truth of the matter is that happiness comes from within.”

“Food for thought.” I questioned my own understanding of our relationship. Where did I stand on the happiness issue?

Kent kissed my forehead. “Not everyone has it as good as we do.”

Did we have it good? Did Kent really think that? Couldn’t he see how we were drifting apart lately?

There was one thing I knew: I, Laura Berry, wasn’t happy. And I had to do something about my current mental state. Soon.