Looming Murder (7 page)

“A
ny
thing we wanted” meant exactly that: anything ranging from Chinese, to Italian, to Greek, to Japanese. And I was probably forgetting half a dozen other choices. Briar Hollow had only a couple of restaurants, which specialized in nothing but had menus offering dishes from every country in the world, none of which they had mastered. So when Matthew returned from picking up dinner, we sat down to dry nori rolls and soggy tempura, and the conversation wound its way back to the two properties I’d just seen.

Matthew slathered enough wasabi on his rolls for an atomic brain explosion. “So explain to me why you can’t get the space you really like?”

I watched, wide-eyed with morbid fascination, as he dipped the roll into soy sauce and then popped it into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed—and his eyes never even watered. The man must have been made of steel.

I said, “It’s for sale—not rent. Until I’ve sold my condo, I can’t even think about buying a property. And with the state of the economy, who knows how long that will take. Also, I’m just starting a new business, and it’s not exactly profitable yet.”

Jenny leaned toward Matthew. “What she’s saying is she’s like me, broke.”

“I understand.” I could see the wheels turning in his mind. “I think there might be a way around that.”

I helped myself to another roll, squeezing on the teensiest dollop of wasabi. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw my bank account.”

He ignored my comment, continuing patiently. “As bad as the real estate market is in Charlotte, it’s ten times worse in Briar Hollow.”

Across from me, Jenny was already nodding. “He’s right. Mrs. McLeay’s house has been empty ever since she moved out.” She tilted her head. “So, where is this gorgeous place you can’t afford?”

“It’s the empty store right past the watchmaker.” I went on to describe the shop and the two upstairs apartments in salivating detail.

Matthew put down his chopsticks. “I know the place you’re talking about. That’s been empty for a long time.” He turned to Jenny. “Wasn’t it some kind of women’s clothing store?”

“How can you not remember? It used to be Sally’s Salon. She went under—let’s see, oh—about two years ago.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I ever shopped there.”

“Two years? And it’s been empty ever since?” I was surprised. “How come?”

Jenny pushed back her plate. “The shop part has been empty, but both apartments were rented until recently.”

Matthew said, “The owner probably wanted the apartments empty in case a buyer would want to occupy one.”

That made sense. My agent in Charlotte had told me much the same thing—that my condo would sell more easily untenanted. I said, “Two years is a long time for a store to be empty.”

“In this economy, people aren’t rushing out to start new businesses,” he said.

I grimaced. “Unless they’ve completely lost their minds—like me.”

Matthew leaned over and patted my hand. “I can’t think of anyone who’s more levelheaded than you. I have an idea. Why don’t you offer a lease-to-own deal? Who knows, in this economy sales are so hard to get that the seller might accept. You would have to pay a premium on top of the monthly rent, but at the end of the lease period, that amount would be credited against the purchase price.”

I leaned against the back of my chair, thinking. “What’s the catch?”

“The drawback is that if you decided not to buy, the premium you paid would be forfeited.”

I mulled the idea over. “A lease to own—it’s an interesting idea. I wonder why more people don’t think of that.”

“Sellers prefer a straight sale because they get their money right away. But when real estate markets go flat, an imperfect deal is better than no deal.”

I frowned. “I wonder how much rent I could get for my condo. It might be enough to cover the mortgage payments—” Another thought occurred to me. “But if my condo is tenanted, it will be even more difficult to sell.”

“That may be true.” Matthew helped himself to a few more nori rolls. “But that might be a good thing in the long run. The market is bound to turn around at some point, and when it does, your condo’s value will go back up.”

“What if the market drops even lower?”

He shook his head, dismissing my concern. “Then you simply keep it rented until things turn around.”

Jenny was studying me, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Are you thinking of making an offer?”

“I don’t know. A lease to own would eliminate the need for a down payment, but I don’t know that I can afford rent plus premium. It really depends on how much it would add up to.”

Jenny wagged a finger at Matthew. “You sneaky devil,” she said, laughing.

“Why? What did I do?”

She crossed her arms. “You don’t fool me one bit, Matthew Baker. You only want Della to buy that place instead of Mrs. McLeay’s old house so you won’t have to help her fix it up.”

Matthew burst out laughing. “Busted.” He winked at me. And for some odd reason my heart fluttered.

I forced myself to focus on how I could make this work—instead of losing myself in Matthew’s eyes. “You know what else is great about that place? I could live in one of the apartments and the rent from the other would help cover some of the expenses.”

For the next few minutes I calculated the potential income of the building, the probable costs, and the amount I would likely earn from my new business. “I think I could just squeak by. But I’d have to live in the smaller of the two apartments.”

Matthew plucked the last roll from the carton and dropped it on his plate. He looked at me in disbelief. “How can you even question it? That place sounds amazing. You have to give it a shot. If you don’t, I just might put an offer on it myself.”

“Trust me, I know it’s great. The problem is I’d be living dangerously close to the line. I have to find a way for the shop to make a lot more money. I’m afraid I’m in for some lean times ahead. I have no one to blame but myself. I knew, getting into this, that selling handwoven goods wasn’t exactly going to attract the hoards.”

Matthew crossed his arms and gave me his don’t-be-silly look. “Don’t you think you’re being hard on yourself? You’ve been open—what—two months?”

“Actually, only about a month. It took me a while to get set up.”

“You, of all people, should know it takes time for a business to get running. You can’t expect to make a million dollars the first year.”

I laughed. “A million dollars—as if a weaving shop could ever make that much.” I took a sip of wine and thought out loud. “There must be something I can do that will attract more customers. Maybe what I need is some other product that would tie in with weaving.”

Matthew leaned in. “Knowing you, Della, I have no doubt you’ll come up with something.” A moment later he pushed away his plate, and even though it wasn’t even ten o’clock, he pled fatigue and headed off to his room, leaving Jenny and me to do the dishes.

“Hey, how about lending us a hand here?” Jenny yelled as he went upstairs.

“He who provides the food doesn’t have to clean up,” he called back over the banister.

She planted her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Typical.”

I laughed. “You said it.” I turned on the hot water, squeezed in the liquid detergent and handed her a dishcloth. “I’ll wash. You dry.”

“Works for me.” She stacked the plates and brought them to the sink. “That man is so hardheaded—typical Taurus.” Funny, I’d known him for years and had never asked him his astrological sign. Jenny said, “I don’t understand why he won’t let me set him up with one of my friends.” She grew quiet. “It’s too bad it didn’t work out with him and Amanda. She was nice.”

If you like tall blondes with big smiles and even bigger boobs
, I thought. But all I said was, “I didn’t know her very well, but she did seem nice.” I rinsed the suds off a plate, feeling guilty for being happy about Matthew and Amanda’s breakup, an event that had probably caused him some pain. I handed the dish to Jenny.

She wiped it dry and set it on the counter. “I wonder who the other girl might be—the one he had feelings for. Do you have any idea?” I asked.

My eyes met hers, and all at once I wondered if it could be her. It would explain a lot, like the fact that Matthew was still unattached. Being close to Jenny’s ex, he would not have acted on those feelings. Also, just now, when Jenny had asked him about his mysterious love interest, Matthew had blushed. Maybe it was only my imagination, but I had the impression that he’d avoided her eyes. The more I thought about it, the more my theory made sense.

“I haven’t got a clue.”

Jenny picked up the stack of clean plates and put them away. “Whoever she is,” she said, turning to me, “it sounds like that relationship didn’t work out either.” She paused, dish towel in hand, and then said, “You know what I wish?”

“What?”

“I wish love didn’t have to be so complicated. Take Mike and me, for example. Do you know that he and I started dating when we were still in high school? He was my first boyfriend, my only boyfriend. We got married right after he graduated from the police academy. You would think that after a decade of marriage, a woman would know her husband.” She shrugged, looking miserable. “But just out of the blue one day, he tells me that he knows I’ve been cheating—believe me, I never, ever was unfaithful—and that he wants a divorce.” Tears hovered on her lashes. “Funny, isn’t it? I can read perfect strangers, but when it came to the person I thought I knew best, I read him all wrong.”

“Oh, Jenny, you still love him, don’t you?”

She blinked away the moisture in her eyes and gave me a brave smile. “I’m completely over him. As a matter of fact I wouldn’t have him back if he begged.” Something in her voice told me otherwise.

“Why was he so sure you were seeing someone else?”

“I don’t know. The reason he gave me doesn’t make any sense. I told you—didn’t I—that Greg Hanson went door-to-door to collect signatures for a petition against Jeremy’s project?” I shook my head, “Oh, well, Greg took it upon himself to stop Jeremy from developing that parcel of land. When he came by my place for my signature, Mike happened to drive by in his police cruiser at the very moment I was letting him in. When Mike came home later, he asked me if I’d seen anyone that day and I said that, no, I’d stayed in and hadn’t seen a soul. I wasn’t lying. It just clean slipped my mind that Hanson had dropped by. Mike served me with the divorce papers one week later. I can’t help but believe there was another reason. But whatever it might have been, I have no clue.” She sighed deeply. “After ten years of marriage. Go figure.”

My heart went out to her. “Was he always the jealous type?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know why I expected our marriage to be different from other people’s. Look around. Couples break up all the time. Take David Swanson. He idolized that wife of his. Nothing was ever too good for her. Whatever Marsha wanted, Marsha got.” She made a face. “The problem was, Marsha didn’t want David. She wanted Jeremy Fox. She didn’t care that the man was involved with her own sister-in-law. She went after him, and she got him. Or maybe he went after her. Whatever.” She shook her head. “I swear there are more broken hearts in this world than people who are happy.”

How right she is
, I thought morosely. In fact I had never been happy in love either. “Tell me about David’s sister. What’s her name?”

“Leanne—she was Jeremy’s girlfriend for—oh—about a year. She fell head over heels in love with him, so much so that she invested her entire inheritance into Jeremy’s condo project. Of course, the minute he had his greedy hands on her money, he dropped her like a hot potato and moved on to the next woman—in this case David’s wife.”

“No wonder David can’t stand the man. How’s Leanne now?”

“I hope she’s all right. She took off right after it happened. Last I heard she was in New York.” She glanced at the dish rack. “Oh, will you look at that,” she said, surprised that the dishes were done. “It’s almost ten. I guess it’s time for me to get going.” She folded her dishcloth and planted a kiss on my cheek. “I’m sorry for dumping all over you this way.”

“Don’t be silly. What are friends for?”

She smiled and I detected a little shyness. “We are becoming friends, aren’t we? I’m glad.”

T
h
e next morning, I decided on a little floral sundress that accented my curves—of which I had plenty. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was happy with the results. I didn’t have Jenny’s lithe body, but some men preferred women with a little more meat on their bones.

I strapped on a pair of tan sandals with four-inch heels, which meant the top of my head would reach Matthew’s shoulder. I fluffed up my hair and went downstairs.

“You coming, Winnie?” Winston rose from his spot on my bed and lumbered down behind me.

I was at the stove, turning over bacon strips in the frying pan, when Matthew strolled in, wearing blue jeans and a pin-striped shirt with rolled-up sleeves. He hadn’t shaved and his dark stubble only made him look sexier.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he said, sweeping me into his arms and covering my lips with his.

Actually, Matthew did not say or do any of this—except in my suddenly rampant imagination. I gave my head a shake. Where had that fantasy come from? It was definitely time for coffee. What he actually said was, “Hey, kiddo, if you throw two more eggs in the pan for me, I’ll make you my famous barbecued ribs for dinner tomorrow night.” And he said it with the same teasing tone he’d been using since I was ten and he was twelve.

“Oh, well, for barbecued ribs, sure.” I cracked two more eggs and scrambled them with a bit of cream and some freshly chopped chives. Granted, I wasn’t much of a cook, but one thing I did do well was scrambled eggs. “But how about you make those ribs another day than tomorrow? That’s when I’m giving my first weaving class.”

“Fine by me. What can I do to help?”

I handed him the bread knife and indicated the loaf on the cutting board. “How about putting a couple of slices in the toaster?” I pointed to the coffeepot. “Coffee’s ready if you want some.”

“How did you sleep?” he asked, leaning lazily against the counter, looking sexy. “I hope I didn’t wake you up when I went out?”

“You went out?” I asked, not surprised. I’d heard him go down the stairs shortly after I climbed into bed.

“I was looking for Winston. Hey, Winston, where did you sleep last night?”

“He was in my room.” I dropped a pat of butter into the frying pan. “He’s been sleeping at the foot of my bed every night since I moved in.”

“I finally figured that was where he was, but not before I walked up and down the street for half an hour. I almost woke you up to help me look for him. I was worried to death.”

“I’m sorry. I should have—”

“Don’t worry. I’m surprised I didn’t guess right away. Winston always did like the pretty girls.” I had the unbidden and unpleasant image of Winnie curled up at the foot of all Matthew’s exes’ beds.

“And I thought you had feelings only for me,” I said reproachfully. Winston didn’t so much as flick an ear.

Matthew poured himself a cup and turned to Winston. “Hey, buddy, didn’t you hear me calling you?” Winnie opened one eye, snorted and closed it again. “Winston. Come,” he ordered sharply. But Winston played deaf. Matthew looked at me. “He’s always been obstinate, but never this bad.”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t spoil him,” I said, slipping a small piece of bacon into the palm of my hand. “Winston,” I called, and he instantly jumped to his feet and scampered over, his nails clicking on the worn wooden floor. I scratched his head with one hand and sneaked him the treat with the other.

“What the hell?” For a moment I thought he’d caught on, but no. “Who is that dog and what have you done with mine?”

“I don’t understand why he won’t listen to you,” I said, smiling innocently. “He always comes when I call him. Don’t you, Winnie?” I knew it was childish on my part, but showing Matthew that his dog obeyed me more than he did him gave me a small measure of satisfaction. Winnie stared up at me, hoping for more bacon. I tore a small piece off another strip and made him sit for it. At least
somebody
around here was paying attention to me. Too bad that somebody
was only a dog—and not a very pretty one at that.

“You know,” I said, “I was thinking about your suggestion. I think you’re right. I should make that offer.” What I didn’t tell him was that I had come to this decision after hours of tossing and turning.

“So?” He waited expectantly. “You’ll do it?”

I nodded. “I think I’d be crazy not to at least try. I’ve even thought of a way I can get all the furnishings I’ll need for next to nothing. David has been trying to talk Mrs. McLeay’s nephew into getting rid of all the furniture in the house. But he lives out of town and can’t be bothered to come down here and sort through all of it. So I got to thinking. Even if I don’t rent that place, I can still offer to buy the furniture. I’m pretty good with a paintbrush. I could paint it myself.” I smiled prettily. “Maybe you can help.”

“I told you I would.”

Encouraged, I said, “And whatever I don’t need for myself, I can use for store displays. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea. I have to hand it to you. You sure think on your feet.” He glanced down. “By the way, nice shoes. But how the hell you can walk on those is beyond me. They’re like stilts.”

“They’re perfectly comfortable.” I scooped the crisp bacon strips onto a spatula and dropped them on a plate. Winnie, who hadn’t left my side since his first taste of bacon, suddenly lunged for the plate, almost knocking it out of my hands.

“Winston! Bad boy!” shouted Matthew. “Bad, bad boy.” Winston skulked away, glancing back at me with an expression screaming of being misunderstood. I set the plate in the center of the table, and soon we were sipping coffee, eating and chatting. I wasn’t sure why—maybe just for something to talk about—but I found myself telling him about David Swanson’s anger management conviction and the tense confrontation between him and Jeremy Fox last night.

“You’re kidding,” he said, looking more amused than shocked. “David’s a friend of mine. I’ve known him my whole life. We went to school and played football together. I know he has a temper, but I wouldn’t go so far as saying he has anger issues.”

“I’m happy to hear that. He seems like such a nice man.”

He studied me, and then said, “I think you like him. You do, don’t you? I couldn’t help but notice that you got all dressed up for him last night.”

I was at a loss for words. Had I dressed up last night? I suppose I had—but certainly not because of David. “Sure, I—I like him.” I blushed as I realized how that must have sounded. Matthew probably thought he was right in assuming that David and I had a thing going on. “But he’s just a friend—”

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t have to explain.”

Winston chose that time to come sniffing for another handout, and the chance to explain was lost.

Matthew leaned back in his chair. “Nobody could accuse Jeremy Fox of being a saint. He is a sly one—a real snake. I wouldn’t trust him farther than I could throw him. He’s handsome and charming, and he’s a real smooth talker. He bought up a large parcel of land on the outskirts of town for some big condo project, and then brought in investors from all over the country, not to mention a good number of local suckers,” he said, and something in his tone sparked my curiosity.

“Please don’t tell me you invested with him too.”

He grimaced, looking embarrassed.

I leaned back in my chair. “You didn’t invest a lot, I hope.”

“No.” His expression made me suspect it had still been too much. “Still, I should have known better. He made his project sound like the best thing since sliced bread. Good thing I’m conservative when it comes to investing. A couple of months later, an environmental study reported that the land is dangerously contaminated. Getting our money back has been like trying to get water from a stone. According to him, he’s lost more than anybody on this project and he’s as good as bankrupt.” With a smirk, he added, “Some people claim that he knew all along that the land was contaminated, which is why he got it for such a low price. If that’s true, the whole project was nothing more than a swindle. Good thing that report came out when it did—otherwise a lot more people would have lost their money.”

“How did the report become public?”

He shrugged. “Somebody—nobody knows who—printed copies and mailed them to every investor. Whoever it was, that person saved a lot of people from losing even more.”

I was silent while I digested this. “How come Jeremy’s not in jail?”

“Believe me, Mike Davis would have arrested him in a second if he could. But unless we can prove that Jeremy intentionally swindled people, he can’t be prosecuted. Some of the investors are talking about a civil suit, but that could be expensive.” He looked pensive for a second before continuing. “The problem is, when a victim has already been bilked out of a small fortune, he isn’t exactly eager to spend any more of his hard-earned money on lawyers unless he’s damn sure to win. For all we know, Jeremy could be sitting on a ton of cash, but if it’s all hidden somewhere like in the Cayman Islands, the chances of finding it are slim to none.”

I let out a breath. “Where does he get the gall to go about his business as if he didn’t do anything wrong? If I were him, I wouldn’t dare show my face in public. I’d be worried someone would come after me.”

“Don’t underestimate his charm. Jeremy has always had the ability to talk himself out of trouble.”

“From the short encounter I had with him, I can’t say I found him very charming.”

“Then you, my dear, have better judgment than most other people.”

Hopefully this applies to my business acumen also, and I’m not making a huge mistake
. But all I said was, “I like to think so.” I glanced at my watch. It was eight thirty. “So what are your plans for today? Are you going to work on your book?”

“Yes, but I have to stop by the police station and see Mike.” At my blank look, he said, “Mike Davis—Jenny’s ex. I better get going if I want to catch him before he starts his shift.” He patted Winston on the head. “You be a good boy while I’m gone.” He turned to me and I half expected him to pat me on the head too. “See you later,” he said.

After he left, it struck me how empty the house suddenly felt.