Fudge-Laced Felonies (22 page)

Using my index finger, I pushed buttons, holding the phone so he could see me calling 911. The man held up a paper on which he’d written the words, “Give it up.” Then he gave a wave and strode down the alley, leaving me boxed in.

Give it up? Was he crazy? I had no choice now but to pursue this case I’d started. My Irish stubbornness demanded this be finished. Clearly, we played a game of cat and mouse. Well, I wouldn’t be an easy mouse to capture. Even though I sat trapped in the cab of a truck that was quickly reaching an uncomfortably hot temperature.

The man paused at the end of the alley.

I rolled down my window. “I have no intention of giving up anything. Show yourself like a man.”

He turned his masked face toward me and took a step in my direction. Heart pounding, I rolled up my window faster than I could tell myself what a doofus I was. The man spun around and left.

“Summer, you’re a dodo head. If your Irish temper doesn’t get you killed, your own stupidity will.” I leaned against the back of the seat to catch my breath. “Lord, thank You for watching out for the foolish ones, of which I am queen.”

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I tried judging the distance between the truck’s bumper and the brick wall of the store. The truck could knock the car sideways, but there wasn’t enough room to get any momentum. I was stuck.

I unhooked my seat belt and rolled down my window. Slinging my purse around my neck, I got to my knees, positioning myself so my behind rested on the window frame. I thanked God I hadn’t worn a dress.

Wiggling into an unnatural position, I was sure I resembled a broken pretzel. I finally got my head free of the truck and wall, then squirmed until my body followed. Bracing my back, I “walked” myself out of the truck and jumped to the ground. Even being doublejointed, my body sported some new aches and pains.

I peered around the corner, expecting the masked stranger to reappear. Nope. I transferred my attention to the abandoned vehicle. I stomped around the Toyota and pounded on the back door of Shadow Jewelers. Within minutes, Mrs. Hodge opened the door, a bemused look on her face.

“Summer?” She craned her neck to peer around me. “Why didn’t you come in through the front?”

I chose not to answer and turned to point at the cars. “Someone purposely blocked me in. I had to climb out the truck window.”

“You poor thing.” She clucked her tongue and stepped aside. “Come on in. I’ll get you a glass of ice water.”

I followed her into the welcome coolness of the air-conditioned reception area. She ducked into a small kitchen, leaving me alone. The rear of the store sat in gloom. No light spilled in from the customer area. “Are you open? I really need to use a phone.”

Mrs. Hodge reappeared, shrugged, then handed me the water. “Sure, you can use the phone. I’ll get it for you in just a sec. I’m still getting myself acquainted as to where everything is. It’s been so long since I’ve worked, you know.”

I lifted the glass to my lips. Thinking back over the last few days and how someone had been out to get me, I lowered the water without drinking. “Why’d you take the job? I mean, there must be plenty of younger people looking for work.”

“It’s only part-time, and I’ve little enough to do. Aren’t you thirsty?”

I pretended to drink. “Mrs. Hodge, may I ask you something?”

“Sure, honey.”

“Is your car window busted?”

Eighteen

“My window’s broke?”

For an elderly woman, Mrs. Hodge was as spry as a puppy. She sprinted to the back door and yanked it open. I didn’t need my trusty Dolt’s Guide to know I’d hit on something of importance. Mrs. Hodge made all the right movements, but her facial expressions weren’t convincing. My news hadn’t surprised her.

I decided to play along with her charade. I set the glass on the nearest counter and followed her outside.

Mrs. Hodge stood wringing her hands, face wrinkled with concern. “Who would do this?”

I wonder. “You didn’t notice the crack when you drove into work this morning?” The crack was more like a shatter, a spider webbing its way across the windshield.

“I think I would’ve noticed something like that, don’t you?” She stepped closer to the vehicle.

“So, it happened after you got to work?” I sounded like a bona fide investigator.

“I said so, didn’t I?” Mrs. Hodge turned to glare at me. “Is something bothering you?”

“No. I guess we’ll have to call the police about your window and my aunt’s truck. Can we use the phone in the store?” I had to admit, Mrs. Hodge put on an Academy Award–winning performance—the wringing of hands and injured attitude, complete with under-the- breath mutterings. She could be innocent, I suppose. I’d know more after interviewing Mabel.

The receptionist at the police department said Joe was on his way. I ducked across the street for a soda. With Mrs. Hodge being a potential murderer, or an accessory, I didn’t feel safe drinking anything she gave me. A professional investigator would more than likely tell me not to leave a suspect unsupervised, but my throat felt as parched as Mountain Shadows had during the drought last summer.

Several people stared at me as I waited in line for my drink. One handed me a business card for a women’s crisis shelter. Remembering my colorful bruises, I almost explained about meeting the tree. The old Summer would have. She spoke with anyone who spoke back. The new Summer tried to be more refined, like the verse in Proverbs that says a wise man holds his tongue, or something to that effect. Maybe it was a wise man ponders his words. Either way, I wasn’t going to blab to every soul I met.

Slurping happily on my straw, I headed at a snail’s pace back to the jewelers’. I arrived as Joe and another officer pulled up. The officer looked about as old as a high school graduate. Had to be a rookie.

The three of us entered the store. Mrs. Hodge hung up the phone and gave us a thin smile. She folded her hands in front of her. “Officers.”

“Mrs. Hodge.” Joe removed his hat. “May we see the vehicle?”

“That’ll be rather difficult, Officer.” Mrs. Hodge fell into a rolling chair. “It’s gone.”

The other officer, whom Joe still hadn’t introduced, lifted a pen from his notepad. He raised a questioning gaze to Joe.

“Where is it?” Joe donned his “cop” face, which always cracked me up. He set his chin firmly and pursed his lips, bugged his eyes and stared with intensity, as if he were trying to see through a person. I bit my bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“Well.” Mrs. Hodge fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing her ankles. “After Summer left to get a drink, I heard this horrible racket in the alley. I thought about checking it out, but I was afraid. When the noise quit, I took a peek. Someone moved the car blocking Summer’s truck, and my car had disappeared.”

Officer Unknown’s pen raced across his pad of paper. I tried craning my neck to see what he’d written, but he caught me staring and turned around.

“Let’s take a look.” Joe slapped on his hat and led us to where April’s Toyota sat smashed against the wall of the store. Tire tracks left easy-to-read signs that another vehicle had been there. The Continental was nowhere in sight.

“April’s going to cry.” Joe pounded his thigh. “She reported the car stolen this morning.”

She did love that car. It was the first automobile April ever owned, and she’d paid it off three months ago. “At least Aunt Eunice’s truck is okay.” The red monster sat exactly where I’d left it. I planted my hands on my hips. “My guess is, someone came with a tow truck, moved April’s car, and hauled the Continental away.”

Joe stared at me for probably a full minute before he rolled his eyes.

“I’m not finished, Mr. Smarty-Pants Cop Man.” I called him what I’d taunted him with as a kid when we’d played cops and robbers. I lowered my voice. “There’s no way Mrs. Hodge didn’t know what was going on. Did you notice she hung up the phone when we got back? She seemed nervous, too. The line at the diner took about twenty minutes, with it being lunchtime and all. Someone could’ve done this in that amount of time. Don’t you think? When they blocked me inside the truck, it took less than that amount of time for me to wiggle myself free.”

“Good observation.” He scowled at me. “And we’ll have to talk more about you being blocked in. It’s amazing how much information you tend to leave out. I also think we need to take Mrs. Hodge to the station for questioning.”

I saluted my cousin. “My job here is done. I’m going to visit Mabel now. I’ll talk to you later.” Now that the Continental was gone, I could open the passenger’s side door of the truck and slide behind the wheel.

“Summer.”

“I know. Be careful.” I waved out the rear window as

I backed the truck out of the tight space. “Bye.”

Erring on the side of caution, I parked out front of the newspaper building, right next to Mabel’s black Cadillac. No way I’d chance getting blocked in again. I glanced at my watch and winced that I’d been gone over an hour. Aunt Eunice would kill me. I pushed open the revolving glass door of the newspaper office.

Mabel sat behind the reception desk, a mug of coffee in one hand and a women’s magazine in the other. “Hello, Summer. Your face looks bad. Does it hurt much?”

I leaned my elbows on the counter. “Not a bit.”

“Need something?” She sipped her coffee.

“I was driving by and noticed the window’s broken on your new Cadillac. What happened?”

Mabel choked, spewing coffee over the pages of her magazine. Her lips disappeared as she pressed them together. Probably in an attempt not to hurt me. She picked up the magazine with two fingers and shook it over the floor. Brown drops of liquid flew across the tile.

“A rock.”

“Must’ve been a big rock.” I thought my face would crack with the effort to hold back the smile threatening to burst forth. She’d all but admitted to being a liar.

“Good sized. Silly kids playing a makeshift game of baseball. Minus the ball.” Mabel spread the magazine across the dry section of the desk. She folded her hands and peered at me over her glasses. “Why are you asking me these questions? Sounds like you’re fishing for something. If you are, spit it out. I’m busy.”

I debated whether I should be up-front with her. Put her on her guard. I never could hide anything from the woman. Not since I was a child.

“Will this be off the record?”

Mabel leaned back. “If you want it to.”

“The other night, someone contacted me about giving them something they thought I had. We set up a place to meet. They tried to run me over. I busted their windshield with a rock about the size of a baseball.”

“And you think that someone was me?” Mabel threw her head back and guffawed. “That’s priceless, girl! I heard all about Terri Lee’s body being dumped at your feet.” She held up her arm like a weightlifter showing off a bicep. “Yahoo! I’m still young enough for someone to think I can lift a human body that weighs more than three pounds.”

My skin betrayed me in its usual way, sending heat up my neck. “It was a man who dumped her body.” How’d she know? Aunt Eunice? They told each other everything.

Mabel snorted, trying to get her laughter under control. “You are priceless, girl. Truly priceless.”

“Good-bye, Mabel.” I stiffened my back, spun, and marched out the door. How rude.

Aunt Eunice stood on the sidewalk in front of the candy store, hands on her hips. She looked both ways. I’m surprised her glare didn’t shatter the truck’s windshield.

“Sorry, Aunt Eunice. You won’t believe the day I’ve had.”

“Try me.” Her eyes widened to the point where I wondered whether they pained her as I retold the happenings of the last hour.

“Don’t you worry none about Mabel, Summer. I told you she wasn’t a killer, but if it’s that important to you, I’ll find out what happened to her window.”

“She said a rock. Find out if she knows who threw it.” I followed her into the store and stashed my purse under the counter. “I can’t believe someone would bash April’s car. If they’d already stolen it once, why not just drive it away?”

“Sounds like they didn’t have a lot of time to spare.” Aunt Eunice motioned her head toward the phone. “Call Joe. He said it was important.”

Great. Maybe he’d discovered something. Anything to help solve this. “Did Ethan call?”

“No, expecting him to?” I shrugged.

“Man’s busy doing God’s work. Fulfilling his calling as a woodworking teacher. Something you need to figure out. Find out what God’s call for your life is. It might keep you out of trouble. Ethan’ll call when he gets a chance.” She bent to lower the flame on the gas stove.

What was God’s will for me? Did I want to know? I reached for the phone and punched in Joe’s direct line. “Joe Parson.”

“You called?” I perched on the stool.

“Do you know a Richard Bland?”

I studied my fingernails. Definitely in desperate need of a manicure. “I’ve heard the name. Wait a minute.” I straightened, my mind racing. What was the name April had given me? “He’s the missing diamond broker. Why?”

“We found his fingerprints on Terri Lee’s body.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Joe. Why wouldn’t he wear gloves? And where’s he been hiding all this time? Does he think we won’t catch him?”

“I don’t know. It was only a partial print. We’re lucky to have found it at all. Keep your busybody ears open. You are cooperating with the police, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’m cooperating with the police. But I don’t really care for Officer Wayne. He doesn’t keep in touch very well. He never calls me with an update.”

“He doesn’t have to.” Click.

I couldn’t believe Joe had hung up on me. I donned my apron, washed my hands, and rushed to help Aunt Eunice mix the concoction for the chocolate-covered cherries. If I didn’t mix the ingredients quickly enough, the sugar would harden. Once we’d finished mixing, we scraped the coating into a bucket, covered it with a damp dish towel, and snapped on the airtight lid. The two of us moved like a well-oiled machine, anticipating the other’s movements. Once again I prayed for a speedy solving of this case. Making candy didn’t raise my blood pressure as much as trying to stay alive.