Holly Blues (34 page)

The hot tears rushed to my eyes, and I held the note close to me for a moment. Leslie had been a very special person. We were all going to miss her terribly—Brian most of all. And then the sadness was swept aside by a fiercely corrosive anger at the person—the man, Jess Myers—who had killed her.

If it was the last thing I did, I was going to get him for it and for all that he had done.

 

 

I didn’t fall asleep easily that night, partly because Howard clambered up into the bed to join me and partly because I couldn’t stop thinking of Leslie. After I fell asleep, the troubled thoughts became ugly dreams. It was a long, restless night, and I was glad when the sky turned pale and the clock said six thirty. The bad dreams were still with me, though, like dark clouds boiling just above the horizon, and I felt deeply apprehensive as I got up, washed my face, and combed my hair. I pulled on clean undies and yesterday’s jeans and shirt, and went quietly downstairs, leaving Howard Cosell sound asleep and snoring, tummy and personal parts exposed and all four basset paws in the air.

I had closed the shop early the day before, leaving several important chores undone. Dusting, for instance, which has to be done at least once a day, since dusty merchandise suggests that it’s been on the shelf for a while. So I planned to go to the shop early this morning. I’d told Ruby she should sleep in for as long as she wanted, and I would open the Crystal Cave. When she did come in, she could leave Howard in her backyard, where he and Oodles the poodle could trade taunts through the fence. Howard would like that. There’s nothing he likes better than barking at birds, squirrels, and dogs that are smaller than he is.

I was letting myself out the door when Ruby came down the stairs. “I just got a call from Christina Staples,” she said excitedly. “You know—the woman who gave Sally a ride to the bus station the morning Leslie was killed.”

“And?” I asked.

“And Leslie was still alive when Christina stopped to pick Sally up!” she exclaimed. “Christina spoke to her. And then she drove to the bus station and watched Sally get on the bus for Pecan Springs. So Sally wasn’t even in Lake City when Leslie was run down. She’s got an alibi.”

“Good work, Ruby,” I said. “Justine will be glad to know that. And Sally definitely owes you one.”
When we find her,
I thought grimly.
If she’s still alive.

“Thank you,” Ruby said. “You’re leaving? Have you had any breakfast?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up by clattering around in your kitchen,” I said, opening the door. “I thought I’d get something at Lila’s. See you later.”

The sandwiches I’d eaten last night were ancient history, and I was anticipating a largish order of bacon, eggs, and hot biscuits with jelly. But Docia hadn’t come in (Lila had no idea where she’d spent the night), and the kitchen wasn’t up and running yet. Lila was pitching a hissy fit, but she stopped long enough to fix me up with two jelly doughnuts, one raspberry and the other lemon, and a big coffee to go. (I frequently remind myself that coffee is an herb, too. Couldn’t get along without it.) That wasn’t going to be enough to keep me going, but there was leftover quiche in the kitchen fridge at the shop—I’d seen it there late yesterday afternoon. I could warm it in the microwave and eat it with my jelly doughnut.

The morning was cold, in the upper thirties, with low fog and drizzle. The radio weather forecaster was predicting much colder weather for the weekend, and maybe even snow, the tail end of the same storm system that was bedeviling McQuaid in Kansas. He had called while I was at the diner to say that it looked like he’d be able to make his flight. With luck, he’d be in Austin by midmorning, home by noon, and would have the Christmas tree up before Brian and Caitie got home from school. We’d decorate it tonight and start getting ready for tomorrow evening’s neighborhood party. Our guests were bringing potluck dishes, but after work this evening, I’d need to pick up the baked ham we’d ordered, and drinkables.

But while all this warm, comfortable family stuff was sloshing around in the back of my mind, my stomach was knotted up with a nervous anxiety. McQuaid had called the Pecan Springs police to check on the Sally situation, with no results. No news, which knotted me up even more. Where the hell
was
she? What had happened to her?

McQuaid could sense my apprehension and tried to soothe me. “You’ve done all you could, China. There’s nothing more we can do but wait.”

“I know,” I said miserably. “But if we don’t have news—good news—by the time Brian gets home from school, you’ll have to tell him. And Caitlin, too, unless you’d like to let that wait until I get home.” Caitie, sweet Caitie. She had already grown fond of Sally. Now, she’d have to cope with—

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” McQuaid said. “Just do what you have to do today. We’ll deal with the kids tonight.” He paused. “And when you see Ruby, tell her that she did a piece of good work, tracking down the woman who took Sally to the bus station. If the Lake City police suspect Sally of being involved, that should clear her.”

It should—if Sally was still alive, I thought. But I didn’t say so.

As I unlocked the shop door and went in, I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I was barely conscious of where I was. It was a good hour before I had to open, so I stepped inside, turned on the overhead light, and locked the door behind me. I put my coffee and bag of jelly doughnuts on the counter and took off my jacket and cap and hung them in the broom closet. Khat was dozing in his usual spot: the rocking chair that sits next to the bookshelf. He leapt lightly down when he saw me and followed me into the kitchen, where I fed him some chopped liver from the fridge, warmed in the microwave. I put it down in front of him, watched him hunker down to address it with an eager passion, and felt somehow comforted. If you have a cat in your life, everything will be okay—right?

I went back to the fridge to get the quiche I’d been looking forward to and was startled to see that it was missing. What? It had been there yesterday, late, when Ruby and I closed up early and left for Lake City. I was sure of it. Had Cass come in for a late snack?

Well, no matter. I snagged a banana on my way through the tearoom into the shop, thinking that I would sit behind the counter and update my book orders while I drank my coffee and ate my jelly doughnuts. But when I went into the shop, what I saw made me drop the banana and give a stifled shriek.

A man was sitting on the stool behind the counter, finishing one of my doughnuts. He wore a bulky down-filled coat, maroon. He was dark-haired, with dark plastic-rimmed glasses. There was a mole under his right eye, and a long, fading scratch on his face.

Jess Myers.

He stood up. “Please,” he said. “It’s okay.” His voice was soft, pleasant. But its very softness was frightening. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want information, that’s all.”

I pressed my lips together, my heart pounding hard. “What—? Who—?”

I knew who he was. But maybe it was smart to play dumb.

“You’re China Bayles?”

“That’s right. I own this place. You’re trespassing.” I took a deep breath. I’ve been in ticklish situations before, and I know it pays to keep your head. Of course, keeping your head is a little easier when the man you’re talking to is the mailman or your next-door neighbor—not a killer. I took another breath. “And just who the bloody hell are you?” I demanded. “How’d you get in here?”

He grinned pleasantly. “Through the window in the shop next door.” He nodded toward the open door that connected Ruby’s shop and mine. “Piece of cake.” He gave his head a cautionary shake, as if he were doing me a favor. “You really ought to pay more attention to security, Ms. Bayles. Next time, somebody may get in and vandalize the place. You wouldn’t like that, I’m sure.”

Ruby’s window. We’d had a break-in before, a couple of years before. Same window. We were going to have to block it up or put bars over it.

“What do you want?” I asked, although I knew that, too. “Who
are
you?”

“I’m looking for Sally,” he said. “Sally Strahorn.” He got off the stool and stepped around the counter. “You’re my only connection to her,” he added, holding out his hands in an almost apologetic way. “I know she’s been staying at your place. Tell me where she is. That’s all I want. Just tell me, and I’ll leave. I promise.”

My first reaction was a kind of irrational glee. If he was still looking for Sally, he hadn’t found her. If he hadn’t found her, she must be still alive.

“You’re wasting your time,” I said, “and risking arrest for trespassing.” I narrowed my eyes and looked pointedly at the telephone. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pick up that phone and call the police.”

“If you did that,” he said in a deferential tone, “I’m afraid I would have to hurt you. I have a gun, you see.” He patted the side pocket of his jacket. “I really wouldn’t like to do that, and I’m sure you wouldn’t like it, either.” He took several steps toward me. “Well? Where is she? Where are you hiding her?”

A gun. The thought was chilling, and so was his insistence that I knew where she was.

“I have no idea,” I said. “She borrowed a car from me yesterday morning and split. I haven’t seen her or the car since.” True, although I knew where the car was. Since he didn’t have her, it was more than likely that she’d boarded a bus and was safely on her way. For all I knew, she could be in Florida or Southern California by this time.

I was thinking as fast as I could, as coolly as I could, weighing all the options, but I couldn’t think of anything that would give me even a fighting chance. Myers was five foot eight or nine, not tall, but stocky, sturdily built. I’m fit and fairly agile, but I’m no match for a man who outweighs me by fifty pounds. I don’t keep a gun under the counter or anywhere in the store.

There’d be no help from the outside, either. Ruby wouldn’t be in for a couple of hours. Cass would come in an hour after that. Laurel wouldn’t be in at all today, and it was much too early for customers. I was here alone with a man I suspected of killing two women in the past week or so. And two other people ten years ago, if McQuaid had it right. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable feeling. But there might be something, if only I could—

“I don’t think I’m wasting my time,” Myers said comfortably. He smiled. “I figure she’ll show up here. I’ll just wait.” He came closer, stepping around the shelf of bulk herbs in the middle of the store. His smile was strange, oddly strained and crooked, and there was a too-bright glint in his eyes. Looking at him, I realized that this man must not be quite sane. If he were, he wouldn’t come to a place of business where people might be expected to wander in and out.

When in doubt, talk and keep talking. “Aren’t you the same guy who called here a couple of days ago?” I asked. I took a couple of steps to the right, along the shelves that cover much of the shop’s back wall. “And didn’t you call my house, as well?”

Myers nodded shortly, watching me, his face darkening, his shoulders tensing. He put his hand into his pocket. “What’s your connection to Sally, anyway? You two friends or something?”

I could see what he was thinking. If I was a close friend, what were the chances that Sally had told me about him? Did I know what he had done, why she was afraid of him? I needed to deflect that, in a hurry.

“Friends?” I hooted. “Are you kidding? She’s my husband’s ex-wife.” I laughed sarcastically. “We’re not exactly on a huggy-face-kissy-poo basis. I put up with her when I have to, that’s all.”

He relaxed just slightly. I had reassured him.

“So what do you want with her?” I asked in a curious tone. I took another couple of steps. “When I told her what you said—that you had her car, I mean—she got all bent out of shape. Said you two used to date, a long time ago. What happened? Did you have a falling-out?”

Some of the tension left his shoulders. His hand came out of his pocket. “Used to date? Yes, you might say that, I guess. It was a while back.”

I chuckled wryly. Just another step or two. “I’ll bet you didn’t put up with that woman for long. You look like you’re too smart. If you ask me, Sally is certifiable.”

“I would certainly agree to that. You can’t believe a thing she says. She makes up the wildest stories.” He looked around, looked up, and his face lightened. “Hey, mistletoe. You’re standing under the mistletoe. Now, isn’t that nice? Maybe I ought to claim a kiss, huh?”

There was that smile again, with a twist. Beyond creepy, Sally had said. She was right.

“But I’m married,” I protested. It was a stupid thing to say, but it was all I could think of. The last thing I wanted to do was kiss this guy, but I was backed up against the shelves, breathing hard, feeling panicked. I couldn’t get away.

“So? Your husband wouldn’t begrudge me a little kiss, now, would he? Hell, he wouldn’t even miss it.” His face hardened. “I’m in the habit of taking what I want, China. And after that kiss, you’re going to tell me where Sally is. If you don’t—”

“Hey, Jess,” Sally said from the doorway to Ruby’s shop. “Leave China alone. I’m the one you’re looking for.”

Jerking his gun out of his pocket, Myers whirled toward the sound of Sally’s voice. And that was my chance, my one chance. I reached out quickly and grabbed something off the shelf, holding it in my hand, feeling with my forefinger for the teensy catch on the side.

“Wait, Jess,” I said in my most seductive voice. I took a step toward him. “I thought you wanted a kiss.”

He turned back to me just as my finger found the catch. I lifted the tiny canister, held it up within a foot of his face, and squirted him with pepper spray, catching him with his mouth wide open and his eyes staring, fixed on me.

I was the last thing he was going to see for quite some time. Those peppers are hot stuff.

 

 

THE police arrived at the shop within moments of Sally’s 911 call. I handed over his gun and watched as they scooped Myers up off the floor, cuffed him, and placed him under arrest for—at least temporarily—attempted armed robbery. When they were pushing him out the door, I turned to Sally.