Person of Interest (A Celeste Eagan Mystery) (8 page)

I shrugged. It was a little embarrassing to admit that I probably caused more problems than I solved by trying to ferret out the truth from two lying coworkers. “Eh. Not quite as I’d planned.”

Annabelle looked down at her hands and picked the color off of one long nail. “So you didn’t learn anything that could help you?”

“Not really.” I frowned. “Why?”

She straightened away from the counter and chewed the edge of her lip. “I didn’t want to alarm you at the store. And I wasn’t entirely sure until we got back here, but...”

“But...” That little squiggle of fear snaked down my spine.

“I think someone’s following you.”

Chapter Seven

“Why do you keep looking over your shoulder?” Levi snapped his fingers in my face.

“I’m being followed.”

He grabbed the arms of his chair. “What? Where? Show me. Should we call the police?” He was panting by the time he finished speaking as he scanned the area around us.

I, myself, took a long, deep breath. “He is the police.”

Levi’s head swiveled slowly—comically so—back in my direction. “I beg your pardon.”

“Detective Muldoon. He’s sitting over in front of the shoe store.” Levi and I were having lunch at the Grind Effects around the corner from my house—they served the best sandwiches around. I picked at the crust of my ham on wheat. “He has been all morning.” It was one of the reasons I’d suggested a table outside on the sidewalk. I wanted to make Muldoon watch me eat while he was hunkered down in his car. That and it was a nice, enjoyable cool autumn afternoon. But mostly the watching-us-eat part.

The night before, I’d had police crawling all over my house for hours dusting whatever surfaces they could take fingerprints from. I think that was more Muldoon’s doing. They didn’t seem to need or want to work so hard for a break-in that appeared to have no loss of property. Luckily for me, they had my prints on file already and I didn’t even have to go in to provide any. When Annabelle had called, I’d been able to forget everything for just a little while. Until she mentioned I’d been followed. At first, I was terrified that the bad guy had tracked me down for God only knows why. I was equally afraid for Annabelle. The last thing I wanted to do was drag her into something she wasn’t even remotely involved in, other than by knowing me.

Annabelle and I snuck out the back of the playhouse—
sneak
being a subjective term as we simply walked out and down the back alley until we could see the front of the building to where she’d seen the man park. Had I not caught a glance of the jet-black hair as the man sat a few blocks over from the playhouse, I might have called Muldoon and told him.

How silly would it be to call the man tailing you to tell him there was a man tailing you? He probably would have laughed his ass off. He was smart enough to use a different car, though, than the one he’d picked me up in from the Fort Worth PD the night before. For a brief moment, I had half a mind to charge right up to him and tell him to shove off.

After leaving the playhouse, I’d made several stops around town running errands that I didn’t necessarily need done on a Saturday when I could relax—just to see if he was, in fact, following me. And sure enough, Muldoon didn’t miss a single stop I made. I have to admit, he was good. Had I not known what car to look for, I might never have realized I was being followed.

When I’d gotten home from Annabelle’s, with Muldoon in tow, it had taken two hours to right my home back to livability. Every crevice was scrubbed, dusted or wiped. It hadn’t been that clean in well over a year, but I figured I might as well go hog wild since I had to straighten it up anyway. All the while he sat. In his car. Watching my house.

I will say Muldoon had offered to stay and help the night before, but that was all a little too cozy for me. Not to mention he had on his cop face. And as he never once came right out and said I was off the suspect list, I wasn’t about to take the chance he would be snooping through my stuff looking for the don’t-know-what-was-stolen items.

Maybe if I had accepted his help, he wouldn’t have been so inclined to watch me all morning.

He’d called the case crazy. That was for sure. There’d been a murder staged to look like suicide. A break-in where nothing appeared to be taken. People lying about their whereabouts. Another break-in that
might
or
might not
be connected. It was enough to drive someone batty—or dress themselves up pretending to be someone else to get information.

I sighed. “I guess I moved up from the general list to the short list.”

“Why?” Levi took a long sip of his drink and trained his gaze toward the shoe store.

“Well for starters, Coz called me this morning to let me know Colin’s affidavits came through. Colin was, in fact, in Little Rock with the hussy. The doctors there were kind enough to provide him with a strong alibi. And he’d used his credit card to pay for several things and they provided the receipts to back it up.”

“So, he’s off the hook. But that still doesn’t answer why you’re not.”

“There’s no telling. Maybe he thinks I’m in on something—whatever
it
is. Maybe he thinks I did it and he’s watching to see what I’ll do next. Getting arrested twice has shot my credibility. Thanks for not talking me out of dressing up. That went real swell.”

“Thanks for getting my car impounded. I spent all morning in Fort Worth.” He balled his napkin in his hand.

“I spent hours in lockup. I think we’re even.” I pushed my plate away, no longer hungry.

Levi stared past me. “Which car exactly?”

“The tan sedan. He’s got dark hair. Has on those mirrored sunglasses cops like to wear.” I motioned to my face.

Levi clapped his hands together. “Mind if I go get a good look at him?”

“Knock yourself out. But if you wind up in jail, I’m not bailing you out. I’ve seen the inside just a few too many times.”

“I will be the model of discretion.”

“I’m sure.” I rolled my eyes and sipped my caramel latte as Levi headed down the street. I vowed not to turn around. I didn’t want to see what he might do and whether or not he could be discreet as he tried to take a peek at Muldoon.
Do not give into temptation
was the little mantra playing in my head while he was gone. And I didn’t. Which, truly, was a miracle.

Naturally I jumped when I heard a throat clear behind me.

“You lose something?”

I swiveled in my seat. Muldoon had Levi by the collar of his shirt and directed him back to his seat across from me.

“Why, Detective. Fancy seeing you here.” I kicked the chair next to me out. “Why don’t you join us?” I slid the remainder of my sandwich over to him.

“Since I’m here.” Muldoon plopped down on the wire mesh chair and waved away the offered food.

He trained his gaze in my direction, though with the mirrored sunglasses I couldn’t really tell for sure where he was looking. I fought off the urge to check my reflection, fluff my hair. I didn’t think he’d be too terribly amused.

“Colin has alibied out,” he said finally.

“I know.” I looked away and took another long sip of my coffee. I needed to do something, anything, other than having to come up with some inane conversation with a man who was legally stalking me. In my periphery, I saw a small muscle in his jaw tick. Was he annoyed with me?

Muldoon set his elbows on the edge of the table and steepled his fingers in front of him. “No hits on the prints at your house.”

I nodded. “Just like you predicted.”

Levi kicked me under the table. I toggled my gaze between him and Muldoon. I stopped on Levi. “Levi Weiss, my shadow. I’m sorry, I mean Detective Muldoon. Muldoon, Levi.” The two men shook hands, Muldoon a little more grudgingly than Levi. The two stared at one another for a long moment. Sizing each other up? Comparing the vast differences?

Levi was wearing a lemon-yellow argyle sweater with roll-cuff khakis and his favorite tan Cole Haan loafers. Muldoon was wearing his cop-wear, also dressed in khakis, but his were stiffly ironed with sharp pleats and all. He wore his typical—at least every time I’d ever seen him—button-down shirt, navy sports coat and a pair of brown lace-up dress shoes, the kind with thick rubber soles. Better to chase a bad guy, I’d guess.

Before either started growling at each other, I tapped Levi on the arm and stage-whispered, “Would you be a dear and go get me another.” I waved my empty cup at him.

He made some strange sucking noise with his teeth and stood. “Yep-a-roony. Can I get you anything, Detective? Black coffee? A life?”

Muldoon slipped his glasses to the end of his nose and stared down the man with a gaze that could probably fell any bulky criminal. Unfazed, Levi tilted his head to the side, his face awash in mock innocence as he waited for the detective’s response. “Black. Thanks.”

The moment Levi walked out of earshot, Muldoon leaned close. “If I was confused about you and Cooter, you and that guy—” he hitched his thumb in the direction of the café “—that, I do not get at all.”

“Jealous much?” I meant it as a joke but when the man started stuttering and tripping over his words, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d hit the nail there. But that would just be...silly. “He’s my friend.” I didn’t need to explain. Why was it any of his business? But once I started, I couldn’t shut up. “My best friend. My very gay, very best friend. I’d bet money he’s working up the nerve to ask
you
out.”

He wasn’t really. Levi’s type was... He liked them a little younger and malleable. Muldoon was too much of a type-A personality, too used to being in control, too...everything.

“I—uh...” More stuttering.

I managed to rattle the big bad detective. Why? Not that it mattered. I wasn’t walking into that minefield for anything. “Look, if we’re going to play this, you following me all day, let me give you my schedule so you don’t have to practically run folks down when I make a yellow light.”

“I didn’t...”

“Yes, you did, at Western Center. You should be expecting a ticket in the mail in two to four weeks.” I gave him a quick smile. “Seriously, you’re totally obvious on a stakeout. You’re one of the biggest men I’ve met.”

Muldoon leaned back in his chair. His glasses still perched on the tip of his nose, he looked over the top at me. “I’m only six-five.”

“Only...” I scoffed. “Detective, your height and all that black hair, you stand out just a wee little bit, you know.”

He shrugged. “If you’d just promise to stay out of my investigation...”

I crossed my fingers under the table. “Oh, I promise. Absolutely.”

Muldoon snorted and checked the cell phone at his hip. “Right.” He stood and glanced in the direction Levi’d gone. “Behave. I’ll...see ya around.”

“I’m sure you will.”

A few minutes later, Levi returned, coffee in hand. “Where’d he go?”

I shrugged. “Jaywalker down the block.”

Levi handed me a cup and a plastic container that was tucked under his arm for the rest of my sandwich. He flopped down in the other chair and sipped the coffee he was still holding.

I transferred the leftovers to the container and frowned at my friend. “You don’t like black coffee.”

“It’s not. I got a pumpkin spice latte.” He looked at me over the top of the lid. “You have a way of running folks off.”

* * *

A couple of hours after lunch, I was unloading groceries and turned the TV on. I’d already followed up on all the messages on my voice mail—not that there were very many. I had several hang ups, a call saying “This call is not from a debt collector...” which I deleted before hearing anything else, and the time and date of Chad’s funeral—the next morning at nine.

I was excited. Not about Chad still being dead. That was just...wrong. No, I was looking forward to the funeral because I’d have all the players I knew of in one place. I could ask a few discreet questions and try to figure out what the hell was going on. Number one on my questioning list was Chad’s ex-wife, Julia. For so many years she’d put up with his philandering. The teachers had always speculated on the whys and hows of her unwavering support of her husband, but no one knew for sure.

The day we discovered they were getting divorced the speculation grew tenfold, but no one had ever learned any details. Chad had kept pretty mum about the whole thing.

Next on my list were the two liars. Kelsey and Danny would hopefully be there. Surely neither would ditch the funeral of their boss. It was bad form, and if anything
was
going on, their absence would throw suspicion on them further, wouldn’t it?

I really didn’t have any business poking my nose in Muldoon’s case. I could hear his voice in the back of my head saying so. Colin was in the clear. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Whether it came to be that I’d have to prove it remained to be seen. Already someone had broken into my home. It could have been coincidence. But, statistically speaking, what were the chances of a random break-in on the heels of my boss dying and a break-in at the school? Slim to none? Or was that just my way of coping, making myself feel safer?

Though really, which was safer? That or a random break-in in a neighborhood that had so few? It put me on edge. Why would my house be targeted? It was smack-dab in the middle of the street, not the easiest to get to or from without being seen. No one could see in from outside so my hodgepodge furniture was not to be coveted. I really didn’t have anything worth stealing. The only thing I did eventually find missing were some old home movies—and Paige could have very easily misplaced them or taken them to Colin’s with her. She liked to watch them.

And if it was tied to Chad’s death, then why me? I didn’t have anything to do with it. I didn’t know who did. I couldn’t imagine what would make me stand out as a conspirator to the police or the “bad guy,” and again, nothing I could tell was stolen. Was my house ransacked to scare me to back off? Had I hit on something close to the case?

Nothing that I’d learned made a difference or made sense.

I had to stop dwelling on it all, though. I was starting to spook myself. With Paige at Colin’s, my house was eerily quiet and a little depressing. I was reaching for the remote to change off the early-edition local news show and find some sappy chick flick when a familiar name caught my attention. “... Kelsey Pierce was found dead in her apartment. A spokesman for the Peytonville Police Department has declined an interview while they are still in the early stages of investigation. There has been much speculation as to how her death may tie in to that of her boss, school principal Chad Jones, earlier this week.”

I dropped the carton of orange juice I was holding. Kelsey, dead? That wasn’t possible. I’d just seen her two days earlier. I ran to the front door and searched for Muldoon’s car. I’d seen him when I’d gone into the grocery store, but I’d managed to forget about him by the time I left and headed back home. When I needed to ask him a question, he was nowhere to be found.