Mission to Murder (10 page)

I could feel Amy’s scrutiny before she asked, “On purpose?”

I laughed. “There is a bit of coercion. Josh agreed to show me the evidence against the wall if Aunt Jackie went out with him. The double date was her compromise. I think she’s hoping Greg will shoot him if Josh gets fresh.”

“Could be.” Amy dug into her pancakes. “Wait, has he shown you it?”

I nodded and pulled out my phone. Flipping through the screens I found the best picture and enlarged it. “It’s a hand-drawn map in some journal.” I handed her the phone.

She studied the picture, then handed the phone back. “If that’s true, the mission was over by City Hall. That’s close to two miles from the site in your backyard.”

I pushed the half-empty plate away from me. “Yeah, I know.”

Amy took the phone back. “Where did he get this?”

I thought about my conversation with Josh. “I don’t know.” I glanced at my friend, who appeared lost in thought. “Does it matter?”

“Maybe not. I have a friend who’s an expert in California history stuff. He’s been champing at the bit to meet you and get a peek at the wall, but he’s been on a lecture tour. He’s coming into town next week. You want me to set something up?” Amy pulled out a notepad and wrote down a reminder note.

I’d taught her that trick. Before she started with the reminder pad, the woman couldn’t remember her own birthday. “I’m home every night except Friday. Have him come over when he can.”

I could use all the help I could get trying to fight Josh in his campaign to honor Craig’s memory. Seriously, the guy was dead and he still messed with my life.

L
eaving Amy outside the restaurant to wait for Hank, I headed over to see Aunt Jackie. Greg was working the case, some meeting with the district attorney or something so our late morning newspaper reading on the back porch had been cancelled. I hoped he would make the “grill whatever’s in the refrigerator” traditional Sunday meal. Then we could snuggle on the couch with a movie. It was my turn to pick, and by God, romantic comedy was on the menu. I might have already put the DVD on top of the DVR player.

I climbed the steps to my old apartment, now my aunt’s home. I knocked and noticed she’d set out some red geraniums on the porch. There must have been ten pots filled with the cheerful flowers. Not Jackie’s usual style, but nice.

I heard the slap of plastic on the hardwood floors. When she opened the door, you would have thought she was leaving to go out on the town. But sequins and pearls were Jackie’s everyday casual outfit bling. Today was no exception. The long red halter dress would have been red carpet–worthy, especially with the diamond she wore around her neck. The only sacrifice she made to the comfort gods were the flip-flops on her feet. The woman had stood for years, running her own successful coffee shop in the city. Now she took care of her feet. Or at least kept them off the stilettos she used to wear.

She glanced at me, then her gaze dropped to the flowers. “Jill, I’m glad to see you, but you didn’t have to bring flowers. You know I don’t have a green thumb.”

Confused, I pointed to the pots. “You didn’t plant these?”

Jackie laughed, a sound reminding me of a train groaning to pull its load. “Me? Garden? What are you thinking?”

“Well, if you didn’t do this and I swear I didn’t bring them here, that leaves only one option.”

Jackie eyeballed me, daring me to say it.

“You have a secret admirer.” I moved around her and went to sit in her living room. “Coffee on?”

Jackie took a long minute before she turned from the door. “It’s that man, isn’t it?”

“What man?” I figured if I wanted coffee, I was going to have to get it myself.

Jackie closed the door, stared at it, then twisted the dead bolt to keep the flowers from coming inside. She leaned against the door, watching me pour a cup. “That’s the new chocolate brew I bought out of a Seattle house. I’m thinking of offering it at the shop, starting with the mystery tour night.” She focused on me. “It’s Josh Thomas. He’s my secret admirer.”

I sipped the warm, chocolaty blend with a touch of dark coffee—amazing. “You know this? Or you’re guessing?”

Jackie picked up her cup from the coffee table, then motioned to the small table near the east window. “It makes sense. Who else would leave me flowers and crystals?”

“Honestly, Jackie.” I slipped into one of the dining room chairs. “You’re such a flirt. You may not know who sent you those flowers. And it could have been a different person than whoever sent the flowers.”

“You’re saying I have two stalkers?” Aunt Jackie sighed. “You sure know how to make a girl feel safe.”

“Drama queen,” I teased.

She arched an eyebrow at me. “Foster child.”

“I wasn’t a foster child, but you are a drama queen,” I reminded her.

Jackie shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what the game was we were playing. I thought it was say-a-random-thought day.”

“With you, every day is random-thought day.”

“So true.” She grinned. “Why are you here today? Where’s your hot muffin?”

“I’m going to tell him you said that.”

Jackie took a sip off coffee. “Who cares? I’m an old woman. No one corrects an old woman. We can get away with anything.”

No truer statement had ever been said. The woman was a natural at getting her own way. “I’ve never heard you call yourself old.”

Jackie shrugged. “Trying it out. Thought maybe you’d feel guilty for pimping me out.”

I sputtered in my coffee. “I’m not pimping you . . .” Then I saw her face. The woman knew how to tweak my buttons. I set the cup in front of me and wiped my face. “I came over to visit. See what’s going on with you. You know, like family?”

“I saw you last night. So what do you want to talk about?” My aunt tapped her manicured nails on the table.

I ran my finger around the top of the coffee cup, not looking at her. “I’m worried about Amy. This Hank guy has her acting strange. Not like herself at all. She’s taking her Datsun to help someone move up the coast.”

She paused. “That sounds exactly like Amy. Caring, helpful, willing to give someone her last dime.”

“Well, yeah, but . . .” What was I trying to say? “She’s doing whatever Hank wants. She thinks whatever Hank thinks. It’s like she’s been brainwashed.”

“More like it sounds like love.” Jackie stood and refilled my cup. “I was the same way with your uncle. The things I’d wanted for so long fell by the wayside because I wanted to spend time with him more.”

“She hasn’t even surfed in over a month.” I sipped the coffee, thinking. “I mean, it’s like she’s changed, inside and out.”

“People change all the time. Just keep being there for her. Either she’ll find her way back to the Amy she used to be on her own, or the man will do something and she’ll realize what she’s given up. It takes time.” Jackie put her hand on mine. “You changed when you started dating Greg.”

“I did not.” But something in my brain niggled at the thought. “Did I?”

“Not as dramatically as Amy maybe, but you are more thoughtful about your wild ideas. Maybe even settled in your routine.” She squeezed my hand. “It’s not a bad thing, dear. People grow up, especially when they are in a relationship.”

This wasn’t the pep talk I’d wanted when I decided to come over to see my aunt. I’d wanted her to help me stage a “Hank intervention” and cleanse Amy of the demon who had her in his clutches. Instead, I’d been told people change. I decided it was long past time to change the subject.

“So I saw Josh today.”

She sighed. “Where are we going? Please tell me it’s someplace dark.”

I opened my eyes wide in mock astonishment. “Such a bad girl.”

Waving my comment away, she smiled. “I can be, but for this, I don’t want anyone seeing us and getting the wrong idea.”

“Like you’re out on a date,” I pushed.

“Exactly.”

I pulled out my phone. “I don’t know where we’re going, but it’s set for next Friday so be ready.” I found the picture of the map and showed it to her. “Have you ever seen this?”

She pulled out reading glasses and studied the photo. She switched back and forth from the several photos I’d taken. Finally she took her glasses off and laid the phone on the table. She pointed to the mission site on the map. “This isn’t your property.”

“I know.”

“Has Greg seen this?” She focused on my face, concern filling her eyes.

I shook my head. “Josh only showed me this morning. Greg’s working on the case, big hush-hush detective stuff.”

“Then you might want to delete that map before he does.” Jackie leaned back in her chair watching me.

“I don’t understand. Why shouldn’t I show this to Greg? Maybe it would help him with the case.”

Jackie stood and took her cup to the sink. She stared out the window to the apartment’s view of the ocean. I came behind her and put my cup in the sink, too. “Jackie?”

“That map would help Greg solve the case.” She turned and studied me. “Doesn’t Amy save old building design blueprints in her job?”

I studied my aunt. She had a faraway look in her eyes. “Yeah. She manages the library of prints for the entire town.” I still didn’t know where Jackie was going, but I was ready to climb on the train if it meant proving me innocent.

“I’ll head over there first thing Monday morning and see if there is any mention in the design plan about the old mission. If they dug to build City Hall, they would have had to tear down any remnants of the mission before they could build.” Jackie tapped her polished nail on the table, thinking through her game plan.

“Building records would show that?” I was skeptical.

Aunt Jackie narrowed her gaze on me. “What did you fill out to paint your house?”

Pages and pages of history on the house, the historical paint color of the house, the paint colors of the surrounding houses, and what I was naming my firstborn. “Everything. They wanted to know everything.”

“Exactly. What makes you think yesterday’s council loved paper any less than today’s?”

“What time do you want to meet?”

We talked for a few more minutes, making a plan for tomorrow. For the first time, I felt more in control of the rumors swirling around me. Hell, if I’d been on the jury with this type of circumstantial evidence, I’d be the first to quote the old adage about smoke and fire. Walking home, the cool ocean breeze kept tossing my hair into my face, teasing me into smiling.

I went to do laundry, but didn’t have soap. When I went to get a cold drink, I was out of soda. Emma threw up on the living room couch. Finally, I gave up. I decided to quit moping around and put into place the fake-it-until-you-make-it methodology. I got one free Sunday a month, I wasn’t going to spend it being a depressed dork.

I escorted the still-heaving Emma out to the backyard with a bowl of water. I cleaned up the mess in the living room. And after checking out the kitchen cabinets and refrigerator, I made a quick shopping list.

Driving north, I turned off the news and tuned in to a soft rock upbeat station and sang in an off-key manner my way to the Shop A Lot on the edge of Bakerstown. Most of the shop owners did their personal shopping on Monday, not wanting to close during the weekend. But once a month, Coffee, Books, and More didn’t open on Sundays. We normally closed Monday and then, Toby and I handled the shop on Tuesdays with shortened hours. My chances were slim that I’d run into anyone from town, thereby ruining my pretend happy mood.

As soon as I entered the produce section, Esmeralda pushed her cart forward, blocking my movement. Her cart filled with the makings of a nice salad. I guess I couldn’t fault her for not supporting the local farmers’ markets up and down the coast, since I was at the same chain grocery store. Pushing up the volume on my fake smile, I greeted her. “I didn’t think I’d run into anyone from South Cove today.” I nodded to her cart. “Nice salad stuff.”

The woman took my arm. Her hundreds of silver bracelets jangled as she grabbed. “You are worried.”

“I’m good, really.”

Esmeralda ignored me. Waving her free hand over my body, she closed her eyes, then her movements stopped and her eyes flew open in surprise. “You have found a path. But the road will lead others to the wrong conclusion, but you . . . you will find the truth in this journey. Follow it.”

An elderly couple gave us a wide berth with their cart. I waved, trying to smile. The woman didn’t have any boundaries. When the prophecy hit, it hit. I wondered what she did in the shower. Maybe she had one of those shower notepads I’d seen advertised on late-night television?

“Jill? Are you listening to me?” Esmeralda’s voice brought me back out of my mental wanderings.

“Sorry, I thought I knew those people.” I nodded toward the couple who now were close to running, trying to get away from us.

Esmeralda glanced at the retreating couple. “Doubtful,” she responded. “I think you were ignoring me.”

“I was not.” My shoulders squared as I faced her. “I’m supposed to follow a road even though it will be wrong.”

“No, the road is correct, but others will think it foolhardy.”

Shaking my head, I put a hand out to stop her rambles. “Seriously, Esmeralda, I know you believe this stuff, but I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

“Just follow the path.” Esmeralda glanced at her cart. “Oops, I almost forgot shrimp for the salad.”

And she turned and left me. The tornado known as Esmeralda had passed. All I had of the encounter was a general statement to follow some road. “I need to find me a real psychic rather than this wannabe fortune-teller,” I mumbled to the Asian pears.

I pushed the cart farther into the produce section and was choosing between several varieties of apples out of the large selection when I heard my name called again. Maybe I should have tried the farmers’ market, it might have been less crowded. The person called out “Jill” a second time. Certainly there were more Jills in the world than me? Spinning around I saw Tina Baylor and His Honor the Mayor standing behind her, pushing a grocery cart. I had to say, the cart looked good on him. Like he could do a day’s worth of manual labor, something I hadn’t believed to be true.

“Jill? That is you. I told Marvin it was you, but he didn’t believe me.” She turned and smiled at her husband. “Did you, dear? He asked what you’d be doing out of South Cove, but your sweet little shop is closed on Sunday this week, right?”

“Yep. It’s a short reprieve, but we enjoy the extra day off.” Seriously, I could have opened the store today if I had known everyone from town would want to chat. Fake it, I reminded myself as I pasted back on my smile, my jaw already hurting. “You guys shopping?”

The mayor gawked at me like I was stupid. He opened his mouth to respond, but his wife threw him a look, stopping the words he’d been about to say.

“Just a few things. We’re hosting a family barbeque later. Just a small affair. Maybe you and Greg could come?” The woman appeared hopeful.

“Actually, I think he’s working tonight and I already accepted another offer.” Make it vague, I thought. She didn’t need to know my offer was from my couch.

“Too bad, maybe next time. Come along, dear.” The mayor started the cart moving.

“Now, hold on a second, the girls aren’t done talking here.” She studied me. “Men, they act like they are going to be humiliated if they are found in a grocery store by one of their buddies. I had to drag him here. Does Greg help you with the household chores?”

“I think he has enough of his own.”
And his ex-wife’s,
I added silently. “I’m pretty self-sufficient.”

“Oh, no matter, I’m sure that will change when the two of you move in together.” She actually winked at me. “Once you get them hooked on the honey, they’ll do anything you want.”