If the Shoe Kills (13 page)

“Oh.” My words dried up as I considered her dilemma. Meeting the parents was a big deal. Especially when the parents lived halfway across the country. Amy looked lost and afraid, sitting across from me, her short blond hair and thin body giving her a waifish look. And the way she was downing that milk shake completed the package. “I didn't realize you guys were already that serious.”

“Exactly. I didn't, either. I mean, we have fun. We like the same activities. He's funny, charming, intelligent.” Amy slowed.

“I can see why you're upset. Justin sounds like the perfect catch. Who wouldn't be scared to meet his folks? There has to be something wrong with the guy. Maybe it's the family bonds.” And then, just because I couldn't help myself, I added, “You never know what skeletons are in someone's family tree.”

“You mean, real bodies?” Amy leaned forward, fascinated by my words. “Oh God.”

Laughing, I tapped the table. “Earth to Amy. This is sweet Justin we're talking about. I was kidding.”

Amy stirred her shake with her straw, focusing on the milk swirl she was creating. “I still don't want to meet them. It's too soon.” She caught my gaze. “Have you met Greg's parents yet?”

“No, I haven't.”

“See. It's creepy, right?” Amy slumped back into her seat, the milk shake decimated.

I shook my head. “Actually, it's sweet. I haven't met Greg's parents because they've passed away.”

Carrie dropped our plates in front of us. “Need anything else?”

I shook my head. Amy didn't even try to make eye contact.

“You two are sure in a snit today.” Carrie spun around and headed back to the kitchen, ignoring a man at a nearby table trying to get her attention.

I bit back a smile. “So, back to the Justin problem. I think you should say yes. You might enjoy the trip.”

Amy bit into her cheeseburger, ignoring my comment. Finally, when she came up for air, she waved a French fry at me. “You know what happens when I meet parents. They never like me.”

“One set of parents, one time. And he was as crazy as his mother. You dodged the bullet on that one. You should send that woman a thank-you note for keeping you away from her Norman Bates–reincarnated son.” I lifted a spoonful of the soup to my mouth. Creamy sauce, potatoes, cheese, sour cream, crunchy bacon bits: heaven.

I'd talked Amy out of running away to live in an undisclosed European castle before lunch was over, but I had to agree, getting away from the hustle of the holidays sounded like a reasonable plan to me. Especially with Tina on my butt for not serving as her right-hand man for this entire festival. Honestly, Darla had been the best choice for years because she lived to do this kind of crap.

As we left the diner, Amy hugged me. “Thanks for being there for me.” She turned toward City Hall, then stopped. “I almost forgot. The mayor asked me to give this to you. I guess it's Tina's list of festival requirements for shop owners. Just wait until you read number twelve. You are going to die laughing.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” I shoved the envelope into my purse. I'd open it tomorrow during my morning shift. When I was working. Right now, I was heading home, grabbing a bottle of wine and a book, and heading upstairs to my bathtub to soak, pre-nap time. And if I slept all evening, who cared.

I almost skipped home, I felt so giddy about my planned afternoon. As I walked up the sidewalk to my house, I noticed a person sitting on the porch in my white rocker swing. My pace slowed as I tried to see who it was. Opening the gate to the house, the person regarded me as I walked up the sidewalk.

Marie Jones stood to greet me. “We need to talk.”

A
few minutes later, we were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on cinnamon apple tea and still making polite small talk. Emma sat outside on the porch, looking in the glass screen door wanting to be let in so she could either curl up on her bed or slather wet dog kisses on the visitor. I worried about the latter, so I kept her outside. As I watched, she finally made three circles and laid down, her head between her front paws, clearly annoyed with me.

“Pretty dog,” Marie said, nodding at Emma's now-prone shape. “I had a golden as a child. Or I guess my dad did. He hunted.”

“You've never mentioned your folks. Do they live close?” I was curious, mostly because I knew she wouldn't tell me.

Marie lips twitched. She took a sip of the tea, then set the cup down. “We both know I haven't seen my family in a long, long time.” She focused on me, cocking her head quizzically. “I just don't know how you found out.”

So we were talking about the Ted connection. I leaned forward. “When the media ran the stories on Ted's death, most also mentioned the sad tale about his wife disappearing. The picture they ran was a dead ringer for a younger you. I kept digging.”

“I didn't kill him,” Marie said flatly. “Not that I hadn't thought about it, especially after he showed up here. Seriously, what were the chances of him just happening to be in the same town clear across the county? The only luck I've ever had was bad. And Ted's appearance was the worst thing that could have happened.”

I considered keeping quiet, but I couldn't stop myself from admitting this one tidbit. “Ted hired a private investigator to find you. He must have been still looking after all these years.”

Marie uttered a short, tired laugh. “The man was a bulldog about things he considered his property. Like toys, money, and me.”

“He must have been mad you took the money?”

She shook her head. “I didn't ask for the ransom. All I wanted was out. Ted must have figured out a way to get part of his inheritance early.”

I felt bad for the woman, hiding all these years in plain sight. “Why did you leave? I mean, all those years ago.”

“Same story as a lot of women. He liked to hit me. Apologized, bought me gifts, then when he'd get angry about some slight caused by anyone, including the doorman at our apartment, he would hit me again. I got tired of the cycle.” She studied me, gauging my level of belief. “I know, you're thinking he's from a good family, we were wealthy, it couldn't be true.”

“Spousal abuse happens in all families.” I knew this to be true. As a family law attorney, I'd seen my share of abused wives. Ones who tried to escape, only to be sucked back in by the heartfelt apologies. Once I'd even suspected an estranged husband of killing his wife who'd been to see me for divorce papers the day before. Of course, no one could prove a thing, so the police let him go.

“My mother told me I'd made my bed and to go home and lie in it.” Marie pursed her lips. “I never said another word to her. When I'd made my plan, disappearing seemed to be the only alternative. I left so I could live.”

“You need to tell Greg.” I sipped my tea and watched her face.

She twisted her lips, “I know. I'm on my way there now. I just wanted to let you know. I came off a little rude the other night at class.”

“I was treading on your secret. You had a right to shut me down.” Actually, I was surprised she had even showed up here now. Then the reason for her visit became clear. “You want to know how much I've told Greg so you can protect yourself.”

Red spots appeared on Marie's cheeks. “Wouldn't you want to know? I mean, if you were me? So, yeah, I'm curious. How much of your pillow talk with our town detective was about me and my possible motives to kill my ex-husband?”

“Did I tell him my theories? Yes. Did I tell him what I heard at Lille's? Of course. But only because someone threw a dead rabbit on my porch with a note to stop snooping.” I tapped the table with my finger. “That was totally uncool.”

Marie's eyes widened. “I didn't threaten you. I would never sink to any level of hostility. That's part of the reason I moved to California. I lived in a New Age commune for years before I started the shop. I'm very anti-violence.”

I'd seen the way she bent metal at the shop. I wasn't totally convinced of Marie's innocence, but I wasn't going to argue the point as she sat in my kitchen. “Look, I've got things to get done. Did you need something else?”

She stood and glanced around the kitchen. “You've done a nice job with the remodeling. I visited Miss Emily a few times before she passed.”

The shock of that hit me. “You knew Miss Emily?”

Marie smiled, this time with her eyes as well as the rest of her face. “You didn't think you were her only project now, did you? She helped me when I first moved into South Cove. I was scared living on my own. She convinced me that Ted would never find me here.” She stood and picked up her purse, hanging the strap over her shoulder. “I guess she was wrong.”

As I watched Marie walk back to the road, I wondered how many other lives Miss Emily had changed through the years. Trying to get someone to believe in themselves or in their personal power wasn't easy. I know how long it took me to understand my own worth. Now Marie was free from the source of the fear. Ted couldn't hurt her anymore. So, why did she still look like she expected someone to run her down in the street?

I didn't need Greg's tests to prove that Marie wasn't behind the threat. I could see it in her demeanor. But if Marie hadn't left the dead rabbit on my doorstep, who had?

Grabbing my book, a glass, and the bottle of wine, I headed upstairs to start my mini at-home spa treatment. Mostly soak and sip, but some women paid big bucks for sessions that weren't half as effective. I poured a jasmine bubble bath into the steaming water, making Emma sneeze.

“You know you're not getting in the tub with me, right?” I rubbed under her chin as she stared at me. She wasn't in love with baths, but she loved swimming in the ocean when we went on runs. A habit requiring I give her more frequent baths to keep Emma from smelling like salt water. Sometimes life was a vicious circle. The things we love can draw us nearer to the things we hate. I slipped out of my clothes, filled my glass, and slid into the almost too hot water. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the perfect feeling.

Emma whined and then I heard her lie down on the bathroom tile. Scooting up, I opened the book and got lost in the story.

When the water cooled, I climbed out, wrapped up in a terry-cloth robe, and took my reading party to the bed. Covering myself with my quilt, I refilled my wineglass and tapped the empty side of the bed for Emma to come and cuddle.

After a few more chapters, my stomach growled, and I realized the light in the room had dimmed. The bedside clock read ten after seven. I tended to eat early most nights, wanting to get the chore of cooking and cleaning over quickly to give me more time to indulge in my guilty pleasure, reading. Emma watched me for signs of movement. “Ready to go outside?”

Emma barked and jumped off the bed, waiting for me at the door. I slipped on a pair of jeans and a tank. By the time I arrived in the kitchen, Emma sat at the back door waiting. I let her outside and went to stand in front of the fridge, waiting for inspiration to hit me.

Finally, I grabbed the makings for a salad, took a piece of cod from the freezer, and went outside to start up the grill. Back in the kitchen, I wrapped a couple of frozen rolls in foil, greased a second piece of the foil, and seasoned the frozen fish. Then I chopped lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers, filling a large serving bowl. I set the filled bowl aside and took the fish and rolls outside to the grill, grabbing a bottle of water.

Emma chased a squirrel out of the yard as I opened the door. Once she'd made the back yard safe for her human, she trotted back to the porch and lay by my feet. I felt a little tipsy from the wine, but my mind kept spinning back to Marie and her apology. I wanted to believe her, but something about what she'd said just sounded off. I couldn't put my finger on the problem though, so the nagging feeling that I'd missed something continued to plague me.

I finished grilling my dinner, and ate my salad in front of the television, where I found a rerun of an old romantic comedy about a man who could read women's minds. Of course, just like in real life, he used his superpower for evil, not good, at least not until he found himself in love with the heroine. I curled up on the couch, wishing I could read minds. Then I'd know who killed Ted and who wanted me to keep my nose out of things that didn't concern me. I fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, I woke to Emma's nose in my hair, pushing my head to try to wake me. “Stop that,” I said, but without much determination, causing Emma to change her tactic from nudging me to licking my ear.

I sat up, my head only pounding a little from the one too many glasses of wine last night. I clicked the remote to the guide to check the time and leaned back on my couch. Five thirty. Too late to get a run in, but I had plenty of time for a shower and some coffee before I walked into town to open the shop promptly at six. Or I would if I got a move on.

Walking to the kitchen, I let Emma out and started my day. Thursdays were pretty busy at the shop, so I needed to wake up, sooner than later. I put a dark roast into the pot to brew and headed upstairs for a quick, hot shower. By the time I got back downstairs, the coffee was ready. I fed Emma and locked up the house, pouring coffee into a to-go cup. I could walk and drink.

The morning flew by, customers already waiting outside the door when I arrived. Between coffee and adrenaline, I worked as quickly as possible, handing out flyers for Jackie's book drive and even taking several cash donations for the project. I grabbed an old biscotti glass jar, taped a flyer to the front, and slipped the money into it. After that, most of my customers dropped their change into the jar. I should have done this days ago. Marketing maven Jackie move over, Jill Gardner had her own moves.

By the time Toby had come in for his shift, the effect of the caffeine was wearing off. I took a piece of chocolate cheesecake out of the display case and slipped onto one of the bar stools, watching Toby prepare for his shift. We all had our odd habits. I liked my supplies to the left of the espresso machine, Toby liked the cups there. So they moved. Jackie must agree with me, because by the time I came in the next day, they were back in their correct places. I took a bite of the chocolate heaven and sighed.

“Long night?” Toby leaned over the counter, grinning.

I nodded, finishing the bite before I responded. “Do I look that bad?”

Toby shrugged. “I'm too smart to fall for a loaded question like that. I have dated a few women in my time.”

“I've had a bad week.” I polished off the cheesecake. “Is Greg any closer to figuring out who killed Ted? Or is it all confidential now? He didn't even call last night.”

Toby straightened and threw a clean towel over his shoulder. “Honestly, I don't know. Greg's looking into something, but he's being pretty tight-lipped about the whole case. Maybe he's worried we talk too much.”

“Everyone's worried about my close relationships with South Cove's finest. Between dating Greg and hiring you, I'm supposed to be connected.” I laughed. “Unfortunately both of you hold your cards close to your chest. Especially when the stakes are high.”

The door to the shop opened, and Greg in his tan police dress shirt and slim Wrangler jeans walked into the shop.

Toby grinned. “I swear, the guy has superhuman hearing. He's always showing up when his name's mentioned.” He waved to Greg. “Hey, boss, want coffee?”

Greg nodded. “Please. That crap Esmeralda is brewing lately is making me think about giving up coffee.”

“That's because she's been doing green tea in the office pot instead of coffee.” Toby shook his head. “Why do you think I've been bringing my own carafe when I show up for my shift? She's great at dispatch, but she's sure into that woo-woo stuff.”

“Green tea isn't that unusual,” I muttered, pouring Greg's coffee and getting him a brownie out of the case, as well. “Maybe she thinks you need to cut your caffeine?”

“Not her decision.” Greg bit into the brownie and groaned. “One of Sadie's?”

I nodded and grinned. If Sadie Michaels had been in the market for a husband before Greg and I had started dating, her mad baking skills would have won the battle for the man's heart. “What brings you out of the station? I haven't seen you in days.”

Greg pulled me close. “That's what brings me out. We need some time together. How about I take you to dinner, then over to the winery for a couple of drinks and some live music? Darla's got an eighties cover band playing starting tonight.”

Toby stepped away from the counter. “I'm going in the back to grab some more flyers and to-go boxes. Yell if a customer comes in before I get back.”

“I can watch the front.” I ran my fingers through Greg's hair, finger-combing it back into place after his walk from City Hall.

Toby chuckled. “I'm giving you guys some time alone, why would I want you to work the counter?”

I heard the door to the back open and then Greg pulled me into a kiss. He paused just before leaning in. “I thought he'd never leave,” he whispered and then his lips covered my own. He tasted like a mix of the chocolate and coffee.

A few minutes later, Toby reappeared and Greg sipped his coffee, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. He finished his brownie and focused on me. “So, we on for tonight?”