Paint the Town Dead (20 page)

“And some of the still shots we took for the website. Eleanor has more on her camera.”

“Feel like helping me investigate?”

I blinked. “Really?”

“Hey, your video, your lead. Just don't let this get back to a soul in the department.”

“Be still, my heart.”

*   *   *

The critters curled up together near the door from the store to Fred's workshop. I turned on just one bank of store lights, hoping for less glare on my tablet screen.

With Eric and me seated on stools side by side at the
emporium's antique counter, the partially lit room made the space feel just a bit romantic. I firmly ignored that, and pulled up the video footage. Yes, there was a way to access the feed from my apartment, but I didn't want to take the time to figure it out. And surprisingly, I learned that Eric wasn't super tech savvy so he was no help on that score.

Heads close together, we watched Friday's footage first. Eric might lack tech skills, but he was a master at watching the action of all three camera angles, and of manipulating the play and pause functions.

We saw townspeople trickle into the store, then the students. Then Ernie, Kim, and Georgine entered. It was difficult to watch the images of the then-living Kim, but not quite as much as it had been last time I'd seen them.

“There. There's Ball Cap Guy,” I said, pointing to the man entering the front door.

Eric immediately changed the speed to slow motion, and we watched in rapt silence. I noticed details I hadn't noticed when the Six and I looked for a tool thief.

“We can't see his eyes for those mirrored sunglasses, but does it look to you like he scans the crowd? Watch the way his head moves.”

“I see it. And right there he seemed to be looking across the room.” I pointed at the feed from a different camera. “Look, that's Ernie sitting down next to Kim.”

“And there goes Georgine out of this shot and into the angle covering the front of the store. They didn't sit together?”

“Not on Friday. They may have on Saturday. I don't recall.”

“What's Ball Cap doing? Look, he turns away as Georgine gets closer.”

“And when she passes, he walks over to stand behind the chairs.”

Eric played the feed at normal speed until the end of the gourd program. I pointed at camera one's screen.

“Here's Ernie getting up. And you can see part of Georgine over here in the camera two shot as she stands.”

Eric leaned in closer, then paused the screens. “They both move out of range. Where'd they go?”

I closed my eyes to replay what I'd seen. “I remember Ernie and Georgine standing at Doralee's side of the demonstration table, but I'm not sure they ever spoke with her.”

He nodded and we turned back to follow Kim as she stood and turned toward the front of the store. In another angle Ball Cap Guy headed for the counter at more or less the same time.

“Okay,” I said when we'd finished viewing that section of footage. “Is it just me or did Ball Cap seem like he was watching Ernie and company, but then dodged them?”

“I thought the same thing. I know it's getting late, Nixy, but are you game to watch Saturday's surveillance?”

I wasn't about to turn him down, especially when his big brown eyes held mine. He leaned closer to me. I swayed toward him. My stomach did flips anticipating his kiss.

Then I nearly flopped off the stool when Amber shot to her paws, barking madly, just as someone pounded on the emporium's front door.

“Nixy, child,” my aunt called loud enough to easily hear through the glass. “Duke saw the lights on and called us. What are you and Eric doing here of all places?”

Eric steadied me and squeezed my shoulder before he went to open the door. Sherry and the rest of the Silver Six spilled inside.

“This here's a dang odd place to be considerin' you're supposed to be on a date,” Fred growled as he clank-clunked to the counter. “What in the Sam Hill
are
you doing here, missy?”

I looked to Eric for help, but he was busy holding back laughter.

I'd get him for that. “Actually, we're investigating.”

“Without including us?” Sherry exclaimed, her expression a mixture of hurt and disappointment.

Maise slapped a palm on the counter. “That's next door to mutiny.”

“Are you hacking a website?” Aster asked.

“We're reviewing your surveillance video,” Eric informed them, obviously having composed himself. “In fact, we were just going to fire up the footage from Saturday.”

“The day of your program, Eleanor. The day your whittling tool went missing.”

“If we can all crowd around the tablet,” he added, “I'd appreciate the extra sets of eyes.”

Fred humphed. “I ain't got time for this. Dab and me wanted to catch part of the double header. You girls mind if we skedaddle?”

“Go ahead,” Maise said. “We've got the Camry.”

“And I'll follow you ladies home to be sure you get there safely,” Eric said.

There went any more alone time with him.

*   *   *

With Eric manipulating the speed of the playback, Sherry, Eleanor, Maise, Aster, and I watched the Saturday security feed. A few minutes in, Aunt Sherry excused herself in order to make tea for us all in the kitchenette. She used her macular degeneration as the excuse, yet I knew she was still smarting at being left out, and I'd have to make it up to her.

Heck, make it up to all the Six. They were a little sensitive sometimes about being vital and useful. Yes, in spite the fact they knew darn well they could work rings around me.

Ball Cap Guy didn't show up on the cameras, but another man caught our attention. Dressed in jeans with boots, a plain tan work shirt, and a battered straw cowboy hat, he wore black-framed sunglasses with amber lenses. And he moved a lot like Ball Cap.

“Hit pause,” Eleanor suddenly said.

Eric did, and she leaned closer to the tablet.

“I do believe this man came to the table after my demonstration. I don't recall what we chatted about, but I remember he spoke softly.”

“Softly as in he was hoarse?” Maise asked.

“No, although his voice might've been a little raspy.”

“Let's see what else he does on the tape.”

Straw Hat, whom I was all but convinced was Ball Cap Guy, again scanned the room, and seemed to watch Ernie and company. When the presentation ended, he pulled the brim of the hat down, and slid away as Kim started his way. We lost camera contact with Ernie and Georgine, but Eleanor remembered speaking with them. She also remembered that Straw Hat approached her after Ernie and moved on.

When we finished watching, I closed the feed while Eric stood and stretched.

“All right, Detective Shoar,” Sherry began, “it's time to at least give us some crumbs. Why are you looking at this man?”

“Right on,” Aster said. “We thought it was that blonde woman you were interested in finding.”

He sighed. “Did you get that from Nixy or Judy?”

“Judy,” they all sang.

He gave me the eye, and I shrugged. “You didn't ask either of us to keep quiet about Margot Vail.”

“Then I slipped up, but please listen. All of you. Keep tonight's activities to yourself. I don't want anything to compromise the case.”

“Loose lips sink ships,” Maise declared. “You can count on us.”

The ladies said they wanted to check on something or other and shooed me outside to wait with Eric. I saw the twinkle in Sherry's eyes and knew they were giving us a few moments alone before he followed them home.

Whatever bit of romantic buzz we'd had was pretty much long gone, but hey, I'd take another private moment no matter what we talked about. And yes, I wanted to know Eric's thoughts about the security feeds.

We drifted to the huge concrete planter out front. I sat on the edge and looked up.

“Now that you've seen the footage, what do you think? Are Rusty and Caleb the same person?”

“What makes you think I can answer that?”

“Didn't you pull up a driver's license picture when you ran the truck registration?”

“Yes, but I can't make a positive ID.”

“Oh. Bummer.”

“Buck up. I'll enlarge the license photo tomorrow. Nixy, did Ruth give you Rusty's last name?”

“I'm not a hundred percent positive that Rusty is his real first name, and she didn't remember his last one. She did say it reminded her of a man's shirt.”

He tipped his head. “Polo? Button down?”

“For all I know, it could be a designer's name. Armani, Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren, Brooks Brothers, Abercrombie & Fitch.”

“The way those brands rolled off your tongue, you must've dated some fashion-obsessed guy.”

“Nope, just a clothing salesman. Men's Wear Wally.”

He snorted. I grinned. The wind chimes alerted us that Sherry and the ladies were coming.

“One more thing,” I said as I stood and moved closer so the women wouldn't hear. “Did you look at Kim's property list for those diamond rings?”

“Not yet. I mentioned Chief Randall is chomping for an arrest. He called a meeting after you left. I'll do it tomorrow when I pull Caleb's license up again.”

“I don't suppose you'll fill me in on what you find.”

“We'll see.”

*   *   *

I tried to get Amber to go out for a last walk, but she and T.C. wouldn't budge from the foot of my bed. I could've used the exercise to burn off some adrenalin, but I changed into my sleep shirt, and started a load of laundry instead.

And began drafting a murder board, like on cop shows, too. Feel the burn, right?

Okay, I didn't make a board per se. I propped myself against my headboard with the spiral notebook I'd kept for making renovation notes and began my list of things to do and people to see. Tops on the list were Doralee and Ernie.

It was odd not to have seen Ernie since Monday late afternoon. I'd expected him to storm my castle again, demanding to know what I was doing to help him. Not that
I wanted him in my face. It just seemed odd for him to disappear. Heck, if I hadn't happened on Georgine in the alley, I wouldn't have seen her either.

But Ernie and Doralee both needed to tell me the whole truth of seeing each other near the square. Neither of them felt like a killer, but who knew what evil lurked in the hearts of men?

What else did I need to chart? A timeline might be helpful. That was another cop show thing. I began sketching out who did what when, but found myself yawning and let my head clunk softly on the headboard. Tomorrow I'd finish the time chart and make more notes. Maybe I'd recruit the Silver Six to help. Fred acted like he didn't give a rip, but his mantra was, “Follow the money.” Which was another thing to ask Eric.

*   *   *

Most women would've dreamed of Eric and the two almost-kisses.

I dreamed about motive, means, and opportunity, which turned out to be both exhausting and productive. By eight thirty Thursday, I'd showered and prepped for a day of case solving—and for hosting jewelry maker Lexie Gibson. Hers was the only program slated, and we'd set the time for one thirty. I'd have the morning to track down Doralee and Ernie, have a confab with the Silver Six, and follow up with Eric.

Oh, and find out if Caleb Collier kept his reservation at the inn this time.

While Amber and T.C. munched their dog and cat chows, I grabbed my spiral from the bedroom and a protein bar from the cabinet. A page of notes later, we took a brisk morning walk. I didn't see my teen friend Louie and his dog, Harley, but greeted several people I knew in passing. They weren't inclined to visit, so I stayed on schedule.

Back at the emporium, I began setting out the lipped
wooden benches for the outdoor display of baskets, pillows, and gourds. Then, before the Silver Six arrived, I ducked into Gaskin's Business Center for a few murder case–busting supplies.

“What in tarnation is that?” Fred demanded.

I'd taken down his large sports calendar in the workroom and hung something of my own. The hefty-sized nail held it just fine.

“It's a flip chart. For us to make notes on the case.”

“Oooh, like a murder board?” Aster asked.

“More or less.”

“If this is about last night, child,” Sherry said, “we understand that sometimes you have to do things your way and do them alone. Just like we do.”

I tried not to shudder. They'd stayed out of trouble for months, but before that there had been booms in the basement and smoke bombs in the kitchen.

“That doesn't mean I don't want your input. Besides,” I said, playing a trump card, “y'all got me into this investigation. I need you to help me sort the facts. We need to open the store in a few minutes, but isn't Jasmine coming in at eleven?”

“She is,” Eleanor said, “and I do believe we'll have time to hold our meeting before the craft demonstration.”

“I'm counting on it.”

“Have you cracked the case?” Dab asked.

“No, but we just might do that together. I just have a few more questions to ask a few more people.”

“Humph. All you need to do is follow the money.”

“I'm working on it, Fred.”

*   *   *

I realized I'd never asked Doralee for her cell number, but Aster had it and gave it to me without batting an eyelash.

She answered on the fourth ring, and said she was
painting gourds in the little sitting area behind their room at the Pines Motor Court. “I really don't want to put everything up and come to town. Do you mind coming out here?”

I agreed, and this time told the Six where I'd be. Sherry asked me to take a few pictures of the place with my cell camera, but didn't ask to come along.

I'd hoped to set up a meeting with Ernie before eleven, too, but none of us had his cell number. I'd either have to go over to the inn or see if Doralee had his number.

The businesses and homes on the highway thinned as I drove to the little motel. As Dab had said, it wasn't that far out of town, but groves of pine trees grew right up to the two-lane road.

I found the place where two country roads intersected. I couldn't miss the three-sided wooden sign elevated on what looked like pine tree poles. Line drawings of pine trees were etched in the signs, and the words “Pines Motor Court” were spelled out in white paint. The motel rooms were actually tiny cabins, arranged in a horseshoe shape, and connected only by the parking lot and pathways. The first cabin I passed on the left had a neon
OFFICE
sign in the window. I didn't see Doralee's car as I rolled to a stop at number 7 on the far end. Zach must have taken it, which meant he wasn't here, and that was a good thing. Doralee was more likely to tell me the whole truth without an audience. I didn't bother to knock, but walked around the side of the cabin to the back.

“Hey,” Doralee said, looking up from the gourd resting on a drop cloth. “Have a seat.”

She pointed to a metal retro patio chair painted in a warm cream color. Not original, but a great copy.

“Don't you love the vintage style? I've covered the table to protect it, but it's metal, too, with the old mesh top.”

I let her chat a moment about how cute the cabin was inside and out. Much as I wanted to cut to the chase, if I pushed my agenda, she might close up on me.

She sighed. “I don't like the reason we're still here, but it is a darling place. And so affordable. It would be the perfect place for my author friend to come write. So, Nixy, what do you need to talk about?”

“I need to know exactly what happened between you and Ernie when he found you out walking.”

She looked down at her gourd. “I told you what happened.”

“Yes, but you've left out something. You've sidestepped a detail every time I've asked you about that afternoon. Are you protecting yourself or Ernie?”

Yeah, that was a spur-of-the-moment shot in the dark question, but it startled a reaction from her. Immediately, she paled and her hands trembled.

“If I tell you, do you have to tell that detective?”

“It depends. I won't know until you fess up.”

She nodded and reached for a rag to wipe her hands. “I've probably blown this out of proportion, but here goes. I told you I left the party just to have some quiet time for a bit. I was seriously considering selling the opal to Ernie, but I didn't know what to charge him. I didn't want him to feel financially embarrassed.”

“Right, so you changed your mind about offering the gem to him at all, and you headed back toward Sherry's.”

“And that's where I left out something. When Ernie picked me up, I said I'd sell him the stone and he could pay me in installments. He refused but not because of money. He said Kim was going to learn she couldn't have everything she wanted no matter what it took to teach her.”

I frowned. “No matter what it took?”

“See, that's why I wasn't completely open. It almost sounds like a threat, but I know he didn't mean it that way. If he got fed up, he'd break off the engagement, not kill her.”

“I agree.” I thought for a moment. Did I still need to talk with Ernie? Yes, I needed validation.

“Doralee, do you think Ernie will support this part of
your conversation with him? That is, without you coaching him?”

“Maybe if you promise not to tell the detective.”

“Do you have his cell phone number?”

She jutted out her chin. “What makes you think I'd have it?”

“If he has the same number he did when y'all were married, why wouldn't you have it? I still have numbers of guys I dated five years ago. I just haven't bothered to delete them.”

My it's-all-perfectly-innocent rationale won her over. She gave me the number, and I visited a few minutes more before I left.

*   *   *

It was just after ten forty. I really wanted to talk to Ernie before I went back to the emporium, so I pulled over and called his cell.

“How'd you get my number?” he barked.

“Doralee gave it to me. You're the one who came to me ranting about being a suspect, and wanting my help. I've seen Georgine, but I haven't seen you since you barged into our shop.”

“Between being called in for questioning over and over, and taking care of my sister and business concerns, I've been busy.”

“Taking care of Georgine? Is she ill?”

“She's having more migraines, especially the last few days. It's the stress of being away from home.”

“Not to mention in the middle of a murder investigation,” I drawled.

“What do you want, Ms. Nix?”

“To ask you a few questions. Face to face. Preferably in the next hour.”

Silence on the line except for an odd thumping in the background. “I'm at the laundromat if you want to come here.”

“You're washing clothes?” I blurted.

“I'm not useless, Ms. Nix.”

“That's not what I meant, Mr. Boudreaux. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

*   *   *

It was true that I hadn't thought of Ernie as useless. I wouldn't have used that word. Seeing him fold clothes, though, was plain odd. He looked entirely too domestic. Like a square peg temporarily crammed into a round hole.

The place was empty but for us, and I decided to get right to the point.

“I talked to Doralee a bit ago. She told me she offered to sell you the opal.”

He stopped folding and held my gaze. “I refuse to play a game of she-said, he-said.”

“That's not my intent and this isn't a game. Doralee said she'd sell you the opal. Kim was driving you crazy about getting it, but you refused Doralee. Why, Ernie?”

Defiance drained from him, and his eyes held sadness. “I turned down the opal because Kim needed to know I wouldn't give her every little thing she wanted.”

“And there it is.”

“Excuse me?”

“Doralee held that back to protect you. She feared Detective Shoar would hear that as a threat.”

He snorted. “It was no threat. It was a simple statement of fact.”

“I agree.”

“You do?” I nodded, and he looked out the wall of plate glass window. “Does that mean you will or won't be sharing this with the detective?”