Mission to Murder (21 page)

I let out a breath. Ray stepped back as Bill approached.

“I’ve got places to be.” Ray waved at the approaching Bill, then leaned in again and licked the window. “Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

I shuddered, not able to control the physical reaction this time. I thought I’d vomit. Bill stepped in front of the Jeep, watching Ray get back into his truck and speed away. Once the truck was out of sight, he approached the door as I pushed it open and jumped out of the car, needing some fresh air.

“You okay?” He quickly assessed my stance, head down between my knees trying to breathe. He put his hand on my back, comforting and solid. His voice was low. “Jill? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

I shook my head and wiped at my eyes, hoping Bill hadn’t seen the tears. It had been stupid. I’d never been in any real danger, but thinking about the uncloaked hunger in Ray’s eyes made me shiver again. I started pacing between the two vehicles. Taking one, then two deep breaths, finally I trusted my voice. “I’m fine. Ray’s a . . .” I searched for a word.

“Jerk, scary, monster. Stop me if I’m getting warm.” Bill took my arm and led me back to the Jeep, pushing me gently into the seat.

I laughed. “Take your choice.” I waved my hand at the car. “I ran out of gas. Can you give me and my groceries a ride to my house?”

Bill nodded. “Unlock the back and I’ll load the bags in the trunk while you get settled.”

The phone rang when I was composing myself. Greg, I saw on the caller ID. “Hey. I guess I don’t need you after all.”

“What happened?” I heard noises coming from the phone, lots of voices.

“I ran out of gas. Stop, I know what you’re going to say, but I’m fine.”
Now,
I added silently. “Look, Bill Simmons is here, and he’s taking me and the groceries back to the house. Can you come by later and we can pick up the car?”

“I’m sending Toby now. He’ll take care of it. I can’t leave right now.”

I grabbed my purse and waved to Bill, who had finished loading up my groceries. Locking the doors, I leaned against the car, wanting to finish this conversation out of Bill’s earshot. “You don’t have to send Toby. Come by later, when you’re not busy. And before you yell at me for not telling you, Ray Stewart had stopped and was being his usual jerk self. But he left when Bill arrived.”

At first the phone sounded dead and I thought I’d lost the connection. Then Greg asked, “Ray was just there? Where are you exactly? And which way did he leave?”

T
oby showed up at the house almost as fast as we did. The other part-time deputy, Tim, sat in the passenger seat of the cruiser. Toby helped Bill carry in my groceries. I stood at the counter, putting away my softened ice cream, promising myself as soon as the house was empty, I’d pull the carton back out and fill up a large bowl. Then I’d sit on the porch in my rocker and eat until I didn’t feel dirty anymore.

When Bill brought in the last bag, he tapped my arm like we were old college buddies. “Look, if you need anything, let me know.” He inspected me. “You’re sure Ray didn’t hurt you?”

I shook my head. “No, but he scared the crap out of me. Thank you again for stopping. If you hadn’t . . .” I paused, not wanting to go any further with the thought. Whips and chains and kidnapped woman’s faces on milk cartons went through my mind. I realized Bill was still watching me. “Really, I’m fine. Just not a big Ray fan right now.”

At that, Bill laughed. “Besides Lille, who is?”

He nodded to Toby, who stood at the doorway to the living room. As Bill passed by, Toby focused on me. “I’ll be right back.”

I heard him follow Bill out to the front door, and like what happened with Greg yesterday, I heard the door locks engage. I put the groceries away and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“I’m checking the house, then we’ll go get your car.” Toby’s voice jerked me back to reality.

“Duh. I guess I’ll get a glass later.” I reached for the refrigerator door.

Toby frowned. “Go ahead. When I said we, I meant Tim and me, not you. You are supposed to stay put until Greg comes this evening. You’ll only be alone for twenty minutes tops. I already stopped for a gallon of gas.”

“You’re staying?” This overreaction of Greg’s had to stop. “Look, Ray’s a jerk. We know that. But he didn’t hurt me. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Toby cocked his head at me. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything, not until Greg got here.”

“What are you talking about?”

Toby led me to a kitchen chair and lowered me into the seat. He sat next to me. “Look, Jill, the reason Greg’s not here is we’re executing a search warrant.”

My heart started pounding. “They think they found the killer?”

Toby shrugged. “I’m not sure about that. But, Jill, Greg’s over at Ray’s. That’s where we’re searching. And there’s a warrant out for him on the breaking and entering of the crate. He’s a person of interest.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. I saw my reflection in the glass over a framed photo of me and Miss Emily sitting out on the porch. I appeared paper-white.

I wondered if Ray had known the cops were out at his place when he found me. Had he thought he’d run upon a pawn to barter with? Thank God for Bill. I was going to have to send over a few cakes and coffee for his bed-and-breakfast. A “thanks for saving my life” gift. I realized Toby was watching me. If I didn’t want him to reach over and feel my forehead for a fever, or worse, rush me to the emergency room, I needed to respond. “Oh.”

Toby still looked like he was going to bundle me off to the hospital.

“Wow. That’s a lot to take in.” Taking a breath, I added to my original statement with a small smile.

This time I saw the guy physically relax. He tapped his fingers on the table. “You going to be okay alone for a few minutes? Should I call Jackie and have her come over?”

My eyebrows raised. “You’ll be gone ten minutes. I think I can handle being alone for almost thirty before I do something stupid.”

Toby chuckled. “Greg said something similar, but he didn’t want me to leave you alone at all. But he also didn’t think I’d get you in the back of the patrol car again.”

“No way.” I cringed. Then I thought of Tim sitting in the front of Toby’s cruiser. I narrowed my eyes. “Hey, you told me no one sat in the front.”

Toby had the good sense to blush. “I didn’t want to move everything for a five-minute drop-off. Sorry.”

“See if you get a raise next year.” I stood and went back to the fridge to pour my wine. “Go get my car. I’ll be fine.”

Toby stood and started checking doors and closets. I watched him search the downstairs and then upstairs. When he came back down, I asked, “Satisfied?”

“Seriously, Jill, if something happened and I didn’t check, my butt would be in so much trouble.” He smiled. “It’s good to be the police detective’s girl. Especially since you can’t seem to stay out of harm’s way.”

“Now you’re working on a pay cut.” I followed him to the door, holding up a hand when he opened up his mouth to speak. “Yeah, I know, lock up and don’t let anyone in.”

“I love giving my boss orders.” Toby tapped two fingers on the brim of his hat. “You might want to keep your cell with you, as well. Just in case.”

When I locked the door, I regarded Emma. “I guess it’s the two of us.”

I curled up on the couch and turned on the television, searching until I found an old movie and got lost in a land of wizards fighting the constant battle of good and evil. Sipping on my wine, I wondered when I’d fallen into the fray. I pulled a crocheted blanket over my legs and laid my head on a pillow.

A banging noise woke me. I clicked off the television, noticing night had fallen. I checked my cell, no missed calls. Had I imagined the noise? It sounded again, and I realized someone was at the door. Groggy from sleep, I walked over and peeked out the window, worried Ray Stewart would be on my porch. My shoulders dropped when I saw Greg standing in front of the door.

I unlocked and opened the door. “What time is it?”

“Late.” He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. Gentle yet demanding. When he was done, I closed and locked the door behind him.

“So, you have a bad day?” I led him to the kitchen, grabbing my half-full glass of wine as we passed by the coffee table.

He went to the fridge and held out a soda. “Bad and not over yet. I needed to see you for a minute. I’ve got to get back to the station. You want one?”

I nodded and took the offered drink. My neck felt like I’d slept on the couch, kinky and out of sorts. I stretched my head one way, then the other, and sat at the table. “You want to talk?”

Sometimes he said yes. Sometimes, when it was bad, we talked about anything but what he was working on. He controlled the conversations—I knew sometimes he needed a break. I would have. This time he surprised me.

“I was worried about you. Bill said it looked like Ray was giving you a hard time.” Greg took my hand, rubbing his thumb on my palm.

I wouldn’t tell Greg everything; it would only make him mad. But there wasn’t a reason to lie, either. “He was a jerk. What’s new about that?”

“But he scared you. Bill said you were in tears.”

I thought about the relief I’d felt when Ray drove off. Had he threatened me? Or had I only felt scared? Or was there even a difference? “I let him get under my skin. Bullies know how to terrorize you without even saying anything wrong. I wonder if he plays those mind games on Lille. I never understood what she sees in him. Maybe he’s brainwashed her?”

Greg chuckled. “Leave it to you to worry about someone else when you were the one in danger.”

“Was I, really?”

Greg’s hand tightened on mine. “I believe so. But you were too smart for him. Locking yourself in the car, keeping the cell close, even flashing your lights at Bill. You weren’t a victim. Maybe that’s why he keeps coming back. To see if he can break you.”

“Did you catch him?” I wondered if Lille would even let me eat in her diner again. Especially if word of his terrorizing me started running through the rumor mill.

“Not yet.”

Greg’s words chilled me. He opened the soda and took a long drink.

“Did he kill Craig?”

This time Greg paused before he answered. “I think so. I mean, there’s motive and opportunity. But something doesn’t feel right. Of course, his disappearing act today doesn’t work in his favor. I’m not ready to convict him yet. But I do want to kick his ass for scaring you.”

Greg’s words warmed me. “And if I need my boyfriend to beat up another guy to protect my honor, I’ll be sure to call you.”

“Anytime.” Greg stood. “Look, I need to get back.”

I stood, as well. “I take it my bodyguard is still out in his car?”

“No taking him coffee. No bringing him crosswords. No leaving the house.” Greg tapped my nose. “Stay in the house until tomorrow. Is that too much to ask?”

I wanted to argue. Say I wasn’t a too-stupid-to-live girl, yet we both knew better. I’d left the house twice the last time there was a homicidal ex-high school teacher stalking me, and the second time, I got a trip to the hospital for my kindness. A thought niggled at me. “So why did you focus on Ray? Just because he worked for Craig?”

Greg stared at me for a long time, then shrugged. “Actually it was the crumpled Diamond Lille’s promotional glass with remnants of rum and Coke. Ray’s fingerprints and probably DNA were all over the plastic.”

“But you said there weren’t any fingerprints on the crate door.” Or at least that was what I’d thought he’d said the other night.

“There were fingerprints all over the crate, none of them belonging to Ray. He must have worn gloves.” Greg talked slowly, like he was explaining the way a revolving door worked to a five-year-old.

“Really? He finished a quart of rum and Coke, throws the glass on the ground, then slips on vinyl gloves for his theft?” I could see the disbelief on Greg’s face. He held his hands up, blocking my words.

“Look, I know it’s not perfect, but if he was drunk . . .” Greg explained.

I shook my head. “If he was drunk, he would have never put the gloves on in the first place. Ray’s not the brightest guy, but does he seem this stupid to you?”

Greg pressed his lips together. “Not your business, Jill. I don’t tell you how to make coffee.” Ouch, that stung. Anger cleared my head and I wanted to bite back. But I held my tongue. I was tired. He was tired. Tomorrow he would see my side. He always listened to what I thought. Just, apparently, not tonight.

“Wait, did I tell you about the other guy with Ray?”

Greg frowned. “What other guy? When he stopped on the road?”

“No, at the crate. There was another guy.” I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten. “Sarge, his name was Sarge. Big, gruff guy, but I never saw his face.”

“Doesn’t mean that Ray’s not a piece of crap,” Greg grumbled.

“Look, I’m tired. And grumpy. Before I say something to annoy you further, I’m going to bed.”

Greg stood there.

I raised my eyebrows. “Which is your clue to leave. You have Toby on guard. I’ll put the chair under my bedroom door like I have for the last week, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

He threw the soda can in my recycling bin a little too hard. Then he turned and said, “Lock the door after me.”

I followed him as he stomped out. Our first fight. I touched his arm as he stepped through the doorway. “Greg, I’m—”

He didn’t let me finish my apology. “Just lock the door.” His words were hard and he kept walking until he’d reached the fence. When he saw me standing outside on the porch watching him leave, he yelled back, “Go inside and lock the door.”

I stepped inside, my insides burning. I wanted to run after him. To put my arms around him and have him tell me everything would be okay. Instead, I turned the locks on the door. Emma whined next to me.

“You’re right, girl. Sometimes men are hard to understand.” I walked around the house, checking locks and turning out lights. Then I slipped upstairs, but sleep didn’t come easily.

A loud knocking dragged me out of the dream that had kept me circling all night. Ray was standing outside my car door, but for some reason, the locks weren’t working, so I had to keep holding the doors shut, but then he’d be at another door, and I’d have to grab that door. Over and over, and I knew, if he got in, I would be dead.

I pushed off the antique quilt I’d found at a local flea market last summer. Pulling my hair back with a clip I found on my nightstand, I moved the chair from under the doorknob. The knocking got louder. “Hold on,” I called downstairs. Emma jumped in front of me and ran to the front door, barking.

When I got to the door, Toby stood on my porch with a box. I unlocked the door and leaned against the doorway. “What’s up?”

Toby pushed in the doorway. Then turned and considered me. “Cute Snoopy pj’s. Don’t you think you should get ready for work?”

I checked the oversized wall clock I’d found at the same flea market where I’d snagged the quilt, a year later. Five after six. I opened at seven on Tuesday. “Crap.”

Toby laughed and sauntered to the kitchen. “I’ll make us coffee.”

I sprinted to the stairs, then turned back and scrutinized Toby. “Why are you here again?”

“The boss—Greg, not you—told me I’m to stay with you twenty-four /seven unless he’s here. And he says to tell you he’s too busy to see you for a few days.” Toby shook his head. “You two must have had a doozy of a fight last night. The big guy’s face was beet red when he stopped by the cruiser. What was it about, anyway?”

“None of your business. Besides, maybe we didn’t have a fight.” I tried to act nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Yeah, and I’m a monkey’s uncle.” Toby shrugged. “No worries. I guess it means we’re not friends like I thought we were.”

“Stop the guilt trip.” I turned back and went up to shower and change.

By the time I returned to the kitchen, coffee was brewed and a plate with several varieties of donuts sat at the table. Emma sat on the porch outside the screen door looking in at the treats and drooling. “You stop, too.”

I grabbed a maple bar and poured coffee into a to-go cup. I watched Toby flip through messages on his phone. Slipping into a chair beside him, I tried to read over his shoulder. “What’s happening?”

Toby clicked his phone off and stuck a donut whole into his mouth. “Nothing you need to know about.” He took his cup to the sink. “You ready to go to work?”

“You heading home after you drop me off?” I grabbed my purse and keys, shutting the back door.

He smirked. “Really? You think Greg will let me leave you unprotected?”

“Macho. Even real men have to sleep now and then.” We walked through the living room.