If the Shoe Kills (7 page)

Jackie put her hands on her hips and stared at Josh. She arched her eyebrows, waiting for him to speak.

“I'd asked your aunt to dinner at Lille's last night. But then I forgot. I wasn't even in the apartment until after midnight. No one was there. I swear.” Josh had the saddest basset hound look I'd ever seen. “Maybe you saw those darn cats that keep crying in the middle of the night. I didn't remember until this morning, when Kyle asked me how the date went. I came right over to explain.”

“And you don't believe him?” I turned to Jackie.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Not one word. A cat doesn't walk on two feet.” She pursed her lips and focused on me. “Don't worry, I'll be here for when my shift starts, but right now, I'm going upstairs.”

Josh started to rise.

“Alone.” Jackie turned and stomped out the back of the store, where a side staircase led to her apartment.

Toby came by, took Jackie's cup, and put it in the sink. “Man, you've got her hot.” He leaned against the counter. “Take it from a multi-chick serial dater, you've got to keep more of a distance between the ladies. Like have one in Bakerstown and one here. You don't ever date two girls in the same town, that's just asking for trouble.”

Josh stood, his shoulders sagging. “I don't know how to say this any clearer. I'm not seeing anyone except Jackie. And some days, the way she acts, I wonder if we're even dating.”

Josh stormed out of the store.

“That guy has it bad for your aunt.” Toby whistled.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Josh was hurting. I headed upstairs to my old apartment. Knocking on the door, I called out, “It's me.”

“What part of ‘alone' didn't you hear?” My aunt's voice came through the door.

Leaning against the doorframe, I tried again. “Look, Josh seems like he's telling you the truth. Can't you just give him the benefit of the doubt?”

No answer came from the other side of the door.

“Aunt Jackie? Are you okay?” I wondered if I should grab the office keys. I had a spare apartment key on the ring, just in case.

“I'd be better if I wasn't being yelled at through my door.”

My lips twitched. “I wouldn't be yelling if you'd open the door.”

Again the hallway was quiet. Finally I heard the television come on.

“Aunt Jackie?” I tried again.

The words weren't louder this time, but they somehow held more power. “Let me be, okay? I need some space.”

“Call me if you want to talk. I'm heading home.” I pitched my voice higher, hoping she'd hear me over the television. If she did, I didn't know because she didn't answer.

I thought about Josh's statement he'd worked through the night. Could he be lying? But if Josh had been in the shop, whom had Jackie seen going up to his apartment? I decided to leave the problem alone. My aunt was a big girl. She needed some time to cool off. I took the stairway back down to the office. I tossed my apron into the laundry bin, grabbed my purse, and started power walking home, hoping nothing or no one else would stop me.

One clean kitchen and two loads of laundry later, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID, no longer sure I wanted to talk to Jackie and hear about the drama again. “Happy Saturday,” Amy's voice was consistently set on loud chipper level. I'd only seen her depressed once, and of course, it was the result of a man in her life.

“You working today?” Amy surfed any time she didn't have to work, so I knew she was probably calling me from her desk at City Hall.

“We're decorating City Hall for Thanksgiving.” Amy's voice dropped to a loud whisper. “Tina Baylor is here and we're going all-out. Turkeys, pilgrims, and Indians. It's terrible.”

“Sounds like you're her test project for the holiday festival.” I grinned. Darla must have struck again, leading Tina in a very bad direction. The girl was evil.

“We're something, all right. In all the years I've worked for the mayor, I've never spoken to Mrs. Baylor more than three times. Today, we're best friends.” Amy sighed.

“So I'm being replaced,” I teased.

“You couldn't get that lucky.” Amy groaned. “She's coming this way, I've got to go. See you tomorrow?”

“Sorry, I'm opening Sunday. Aunt Jackie's had a bad day, and I'd like to give her some time off. How about lunch on Monday?” I took out my notebook and my running list of chores I needed to take care of, including appointments.

“Works for me.” Amy's voice changed. “I'm sorry, the office is closed today, but if you'd like to call Monday, I'd be glad to walk you through the building permit paperwork. Thanks for calling.”

“She's standing right there, isn't she?”

“You've got that right. Talk to you then.” Then the line went dead.

I had to hand it to Tina, she knew how to control her employees, or the people she assumed were her employees. I guess being the mayor's wife gave you certain privileges.

I glanced at the clock. If Greg was going to show up for dinner, he would have called by now. I checked the Internet and saw that if I left now, I'd have plenty of time to get into Bakerstown before the library closed. It was time for some background research on a Mr. Ted Hendricks. And what better place to find it than the local gossip column.

I
'd reviewed ten rolls of microfilm before I found even a mention of the man. He'd kept a low profile for the short time he'd been in town. According to an interview in the
Bakerstown Gazette
, Ted had moved there from his hometown of Boston, wanting to experience the more relaxed California way of life. Even in words, the man's arrogance shown through. Some would call it confidence, but I felt the anger behind the words.

At least I knew he'd arrived two years ago. Now I just needed to go deeper into his family tree. Maybe there would be a mention of why he left “the more civilized East,” as he referred to his prior home.

My cell rang.

The librarian at the research desk glared at me. I stepped out of the quiet room and took the call. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Greg asked.

I flushed, even though he couldn't see me. I didn't want to listen to a lecture on staying out of an investigation. “I'm in Bakerstown. I needed to do some research at the library for”—I paused, trying to make up an excuse that he would believe—“our holiday festival decorations. I heard Tina's going for a more traditional theme this year.”

“Oh God. The woman came in and had Esmeralda in fits. Esmeralda claims the decorations violate her religion. I've been playing mediator all day. I think she's just balking because it's Tina.”

Tina had led the charge to keep Esmeralda off the Methodist church choir years ago and failed. I smiled, thinking about the gypsy fortune teller and the mayor's wife standing toe to toe. “Amy said there were turkeys and pilgrims.”

“Well, the mayor's offices are Thanksgiving. For our area, Tina wanted to go with the baby Jesus story. I swear, the woman is bipolar.” Greg paused. “When are you heading back?”

“You got plans in mind?” I teased, watching the librarian continue to glare at me through the archway.

He chuckled. “I was hoping you'd pick up a couple of pizzas from Little Godfathers and bring them back. I'll buy the beer and bring a movie. It's been a long week.”

“Sounds like a perfect Saturday night date.” I'd probably exhausted the resources here anyway. “Call the pizza in and I'll be home in twenty.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He chuckled and hung up.

I returned to the microfilm reader, printed off the interview with Ted, and returned the rolls to the librarian, who took them without a word. I guess I was on the library Santa bad list for not silencing my cell.

Heading back across town, I passed the building housing the Work Today program. The bus with the South Cove participants was unloading. On a whim, I turned into the parking lot.

Stepping out of the Jeep, I waved at Mindy. “Hey, how'd today go?”

Mindy grinned, hoisting a tote bag with The Glass Slipper logo on the front. “I love my job,” she gushed. “Marie let me run the cash register all day, and then when she was teaching a customer how to cut the glass, she had me practice, as well. She said I've got a knack for working with the medium. Me, like a real artist or something.”

“I'm so glad.” I glanced around the lot. “Your son picking you up?”

Mindy shook her head. “I live in the apartments down the street. It's a short walk.”

“I can drop you off. I'm heading to get pizza, then back to South Cove.” I pointed to the Jeep.

Mindy shook her head. “I'm fine. I need the exercise.” She started to walk away, then stopped, her face showing concern. “We're meeting with the new coordinator next Monday. They didn't take long to replace Ted.”

“Is that a problem?”

The woman shrugged. “I just hope the new guy doesn't change up our assignments. I enjoy working for Marie. I'd hate to lose out on the experience.”

“I'm sure they won't move you out of a placement that's working out. Marie seems to enjoy working with you.”

“Ted did. I've had four placements before The Glass Slipper. Each one, I went for two weeks, then Ted replaced me with another girl.” Mindy smiled, but the emotion didn't match her eyes. “A young and pretty girl. I guess I was the test employee. If I liked the work, so would his favorites.”

I didn't know what to say. Mindy's story matched Matt's gossip with Darla. I rested my hand on the woman's arm. “Well, it's a good thing Ted isn't making those decisions anymore. Maybe the new guy or gal will be more reliable.”

Mindy nodded. “Thanks. I hope I see you next week.”

As she walked away, her shoulders hunched and her spirits dragging, I heard her mumble, “And he could be worse.”

Matt stood by an old rusted-out F-150 watching us. When I waved, he held up his hand, then climbed in and started the engine, blue smoke filling the parking lot. The rest of the group had already left, so I got into my Jeep and turned down the road to the pizza shop.

Mindy's final comment echoed in my ears. I made a mental note to stop by the work program first thing Monday morning to check out the new director. I was the city council's liaison; it was natural to be curious. At least that was the story I would tell Greg. Hopefully, he'd believe me. The man got cross when he found me messing in his investigations.

By the time I'd arrived back in South Cove, Greg's Dodge sat parked in my driveway and he was on my front porch, my dog lying at his feet in adoration. I waved as I parked and grabbed my purse and the two pizza boxes. Greg hurried to open the gate and then took the boxes, giving me a quick kiss.

“I'm starving.” He sniffed the boxes. “These smell amazing.”

I unlocked the door and held it open as he followed me into the house. “You have a key, you know.” I'd given him a key to the house last month, when he'd house-sat Emma for me when Jackie and I took a weekend trip to the Oregon coast. When Greg had tried to return it, I had waved it off, citing more imaginary trips in the future.

He set the boxes on the table and grabbed plates and a couple of cold beers from the fridge. “I was fine on the porch.” He nodded at the table. “Sit down and start. I'll run back and grab the beer off the porch.”

“If you'd used your key, the beer could be chilling already,” I pointed out. And the man actually sighed. “What's wrong? Am I bugging you?”

He stepped closer and pushed a lock of hair out of my face. “This is your house. I think sometimes, we're together so much here, we tend to forget that. I don't want to overstep.” He tapped my nose, then turned and left the kitchen.

I thought about that for a few minutes. As Greg and I had grown closer, we had fallen into a comfort level with each other. Maybe he didn't want to rush into marriage. He'd been divorced only a few years. Could he be wondering if this—we, I amended—was a mistake? I opened the pizza boxes, distracted. Pepperoni and more pepperoni, and a veggie delight, minus olives. I grabbed a slice of the veggie, my hunger tamping down my worry about Greg's feelings.

Greg came up behind me, put the beer into the fridge, and then sat in the chair next to me, grabbing a slice of the pepperoni. “And before you start thinking bad things, no, I'm not rethinking our relationship. I just don't want to assume.”

“I wasn't even thinking,” I started, but then I saw the grin spreading on his face. “Okay, busted. How do you know when I'm freaking?”

Greg shrugged. “You're always thinking about what something means, or about what someone didn't say. That's why you're so good with researching. You're ten steps ahead of everyone else before the game even starts.”

I smiled, ducking my head. The man knew me and how to push my flatter button. I took another bite and almost choked the next moment.

“So, what have you found out about Ted?” Greg reached for a slice of the veggie pizza.

I froze, wondering what had given me away. “I don't know what you mean.”

He laughed. “Really? We're playing it that way?” He cocked his head, waiting for me to react.

“Fine, I've been trying to figure out who Ted was, not so much who killed him.” I put on the innocent, sweet smile I used on the mayor when he was frustrating me. “That's your job.”

Greg burst out laughing. “Since when?”

“Since I want to know what you found out today. Want to swap information?” I gave Emma the crust off my first piece and grabbed a fresh slice.

“You first.”

So I told him the little bit I'd discovered, that Ted was from a wealthy, powerful family and must have been the black sheep for his social service-type career.

Greg pushed aside his plate. “That's the feeling I got from the family lawyer. He called on me today, wanting to know when we are releasing the body. They want to ship the body back East to the family plot.”

“The lawyer came, not the family?” I put the pizza slice down, my appetite disappearing as fast as it had arrived.

“Sad, huh. I guess his father's at some embassy overseas and the mom, well, she's away. That's all the lawyer would say, away. Probably on some beach somewhere drinking fruity drinks and trying to de-stress.”

I gave Emma another bite of crust since she was still staring at me. “They say the rich are different.”

“If by different you mean cold, you're right.” He nodded to the kitchen door. “Want to go sit on the porch and watch me play fetch with your dog?”

“And some people actually go to movies and concerts on Saturday night.” I cleaned off the table, moving the leftovers into one box and shoving it onto the bottom shelf of the fridge. Greg would take the pizza into the station tomorrow for the weekend shift guys. Typically Greg spent early Sunday morning at the station, then, if I was working at the shop, he'd show up after my shift and we'd drink coffee and read the paper.

Our Sunday time was all about Ozzie and Harriet stuff. And yet, I loved our Sunday afternoons together more than the rest of the week.

For the rest of the evening, we avoided discussions of murder and family and love and pain. We played ball with Emma and laughed and talked about happy memories as we watched the sunset over the ocean. And when darkness fell, I cuddled up to Greg, my head on his chest, and listened to the beat of his heart.

 

Sunday morning my alarm went off at five and I felt Emma's cold nose on my cheek, nudging me awake. I reached over and stroked her soft head. “Hey, girl.”

I was rewarded with a quiet yip. Stretching, I slipped my feet over the side of the bed and realized I was still dressed in yesterday's clothes. I must have fallen asleep on the swing with Greg. Had he carried me upstairs to the bed? I would have left my sorry butt on the swing. Okay, maybe the sofa. The man was better than me, that I knew.

I let Emma outside while I slipped into my running clothes and got ready for the morning. Coffee had been made and programmed, but I only took a half cup before I clipped Emma's blue leash on her matching collar and we headed out the door. The morning fog was still heavy and we stayed on the footpath running in front of my house all the way to the highway. Traffic was nonexistent as we crossed, then once I could see the parking lot and beach were empty, I unclicked the leash. Then we ran, my footsteps echoing in my mind in rhythm with the waves coming in from the beach.

An hour later, showered and ready for the day, I opened the store and started brewing coffee. Traffic even during the holidays was slow on my early shift, so I knew I'd have time to put in next week's supply order, make a quick breakfast of cranberry scone and juice, and sink down into the couch to start reading a young adult fantasy novel that was coming out as a Christmas season movie. I'd sold so many copies of the book recently, I figured it was time to see what the fuss was about. I'd just started grooving with the story when the bell rang and I put the book away with a smile to greet my first customer.

“Is your aunt here?” Josh Thomas stood in the doorway, peering around the room like Jackie might be crouched hiding behind a chair or under the counter.

“She doesn't work until five. What can I get you, Josh?” I stood and walked back to the counter.

“Large black.” When he arrived at the cash register, he shoved an envelope at me. “Give her this.”

I glanced at the creamy white linen paper and knew what it held immediately. “You think a Hallmark greeting will get you out of the doghouse?”

Josh blushed, then shrugged. “I'm out of ideas.” He hefted his large frame onto one of my bar stools. “You know her. What can I do? I hate it when she's mad at me.”

I'd never seen Jackie go back from a slight, but telling him that would only add to his misery. I handed him his coffee. “Give her time. She's never been stood up before.”

“I just can't believe she thinks I was with another woman.” He stared at the coffee cup like he'd never seen a paper cup with a sleeve on it before.

“Did you find out who had tried to visit that night?” I didn't particularly like Josh, and he and my aunt together just made me shiver when I thought about it, but the man was hurting.

“That's just it. I leave my back door open.” He flicked his glance at me. “Don't lecture. I know I'm taking a risk. Sometimes, I forget my keys and I've been locked out too many times late at night when I've left the shop. No one uses that door anyway.”

“Well, apparently someone did. Did you notice anything missing? Or out of place?” I frowned. Someone must have thought the antique dealer kept valuables in his apartment and knew he kept the door open.

Josh shook his head. “Nothing was gone. My front window shade was open, but I could have done that and not remembered.”