Skating Around The Law (12 page)

Another Hubba Bubba pop sounded as Jasmine said, “No problem. I'll annoy the hell out of her so she'll be begging to move out by the time you come back.” I could hear the concern in her voice as she added, “Hey, you take care of yourself. Let me know if you need any help, all right?”

I hung up the phone with my heart in my stomach. Annette had been right on Monday when she said I should get out of town and trust the rink would be fine without me. Instead of listening, I'd felt sorry for myself. Well, now I was homeless and thoroughly depressed. I grabbed the final éclair in the bakery box and took a bite. By the time I'd eaten the last bits of chocolate I felt improved enough to think logically. Throwing a pity party for myself wasn't going to get me anywhere, but snooping around town trying to solve Mack's murder would. What I really needed was the name of the drug that killed Mack, and maybe Eleanor would be willing to give me the name of the drug in exchange for a real date with my grandfather. Anything was possible.

Grabbing my purse, I headed for the door and stalked through the parking lot with purpose. Then I saw my car, and my feet came to an abrupt halt. My right rear tire was flat. Not just a little flat—completely deflated. I took a step closer, and my eyes zeroed in on a rusty-looking thingy sticking out of the black rubber. My car had been fine when I entered the rink. Someone had stabbed that oversized nail into my tire on purpose.

I started to sniffle, but then
I heard footsteps behind me. Panic stopped the tears. Acting on instinct, I swung my purse and felt it connect with something.

“Ooof.”

I turned in time to see Lionel go down to one knee. That started me crying for real. Not only was my car injured, now I wouldn't get my camel ride.

“What in the hell is wrong with you?” Lionel yelled. He pushed himself off the ground and brushed off his pants while giving me several looks of disgust.

I didn't know what to say, so I just pointed to the car, which apparently was the right thing to do. Lionel immediately stopped looking angry. He walked to the car and knelt down by the tire. A minute later, he walked back with the nail-like thing that had been protruding from the tire and handed it to me along with a folded slip of paper. “I found this under the windshield wiper.”

Sniffling, I unfolded the note.

Leave town now or bad things will happen.

My tears were replaced by a strange calm. After being coerced into subleasing my apartment, threats were anticlimactic.

I handed Lionel the note and glanced back at the flattened tire. Finding my voice, I asked, “So do you think I should call the sheriff's department or a mechanic?” Visions of a confused Sean poking my tire sprang to mind. “Never mind the cops,” I said. “I don't have a full spare in my trunk, which means I can't fix this myself. Do you have Zach's number handy?”

Lionel looked at me with a confused expression. “I think I preferred the tears. The calm, rational behavior is scary.”

My eyes narrowed. “Are you one of those guys who thinks women get irrational during a crisis?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But I've come to expect it from you. Rebecca, you are not like other women.”

I decided to take that as a compliment. Lionel gave me Zach's number, and I pulled out my cell and dialed the poker-playing mechanic. We sat on the rink's front stoop until Zach and his tow truck arrived. A lump formed in my throat as I watched him load my car onto the back. Zach handed me his card, assuring me the tire would be fixed later today, then climbed back in his truck and drove away with my bright yellow car forlornly trailing behind him.

I took a deep breath and asked, “Now what?”

Lionel's arm snaked around my shoulders. “Now you come with me. I promised Elwood you'd come to the farm for a ride.”

 

Lionel pulled up outside his office. Before he turned off the ignition, I was out of the truck and halfway to the barn. The prospect of seeing Lionel's camel made me feel smiley for the first time in days.

I walked into the dim barn, and Elwood greeted me at the door. Today he was sporting a bright orange construction hard hat. My eyebrows rose, and I turned to look at Lionel.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he disappeared into Elwood's stall. A few seconds later, he reemerged with a motorcycle helmet from the seventies in his hand. The helmet was painted gold and came complete with a chin strap.

Lionel handed the helmet to me. “Your life is a little complicated lately, so I figured you and Elwood should both have some protection.”

“Thanks,” I said with a frown. The hat was ugly, and I resented Lionel's implication that I couldn't take care of myself. The worst part was that Lionel had a point. During the last week my life had taken on a strange action-movie quality. Maybe extra protection was a good idea after all.

I shoved the helmet onto my head, squashing my hair in the process. Elwood nudged my shoulder, and I gave him a pat on the neck. “So,” I asked, “how do I do this?”

Lionel grinned. “Let's go outside in the pasture, and I'll show you.”

I followed Lionel and Elwood out into the sunlight. Elwood trotted happily into the pasture, not seeming to mind the rope around his neck. Then, for the first time, I really looked at the camel I was about to ride.

Elwood had short light brown hair and stood about six and a half feet tall from the ground to the top of his hump. His one hump. Somehow I remembered camels at the zoo having two humps. Riding a camel with two humps made sense. You just needed to sit in between them and hold on tight. How did a person go about riding a one-humped camel?

Lionel crooked his little finger in my direction, but I didn't move. “Maybe this isn't such a good idea,” I said as my feet shuffled backward.

Lionel grabbed my hand, preventing my escape. “Elwood has been looking forward to this all day. He likes having the people he's friends with ride him. Do you want to fink out and disappoint Elwood?”

I looked into Elwood's sweet camel face. Slowly, I shook my head. I wasn't sure if camels could be disappointed, but it seemed wrong to take the chance. “Okay,” I said. “Tell me what to do.”

Lionel gave my arm a tug, and I took a step toward him. His hand reached up, and my heart gave an excited skip as he adjusted my chin strap. He chucked me playfully under the chin and turned toward the camel. “I need to get Elwood suited up. Then the two of you can go for a ride.”

I watched with fascination as Lionel gave the rope a gentle tug. At the signal, Elwood gracefully lowered himself to the ground. Lionel picked up a large saddle sitting on the grass and settled the thing on top of Elwood's hump. Immediately Elwood stood up, allowing Lionel to fasten the belts. The two of them had clearly been through this routine before.

Ten minutes later, hard-hat Elwood was ready to make tracks. The problem was, I wasn't. The saddle looked really high. Not that I was scared of heights. I just preferred to keep my feet on the ground.

Lionel shot me an amused look. I could tell he expected me to back out. No way. If Lionel could ride a camel, so could I.

I walked over to Elwood and petted his nose. The camel rolled his eyes with pleasure, and I laughed.

“Are you ready?” Lionel asked.

I nodded. “I'm ready.”

Another tug on the rope had Elwood back on the ground, and I jumped on board. My butt hit the saddle and kept going. I slid over the saddle and landed on the other side of Elwood with a thud. Elwood turned his head and blinked his thick eyelashes as if asking what I was doing with my ass on the ground.

“Ow.” I stood up, rubbing my bruised butt. My eyes met Lionel's. If he laughed, I'd deck him. To his credit he didn't. “Okay,” I said, shaking off my humiliation. “What did I do wrong?”

Lionel pointed to the saddle. “You have to hold on to the handle for balance. Try it again.”

I took a deep breath. Then, grabbing the handle with both hands, I closed my eyes and hauled myself into the seat. I opened one eye and grinned. I did it. I was sitting on a camel. This was so cool. Elwood looked at me and rolled his eyes. See, I thought, even the camel was proud of me.

“Okay, Rebecca, it's time for you and Elwood to take a ride.” Before I could ask what he was going to do, Lionel tugged on the rope, and Elwood clambered to his feet. I jiggled side to side, sending the contents of my stomach rolling. My choice to eat all those pastries for breakfast was looking like a very bad idea.

My hands turned white as they clung to the handle for dear life. I wrapped my legs tight against Elwood's flank as my body tilted precariously from one side to the other. Somehow, miraculously, I stayed seated on Elwood, who was now standing upright.

Lionel looked impressed. “I didn't even hang on the first time I tried that. Good job.”

I smiled down at him, and my heart lurched into my throat. The ground was suddenly a long way down. “Thanks,” I said, swallowing down my apprehension. I had come this far, and I wasn't going to chicken out now. Straightening my shoulders, I asked, “Does this ride move forward or is it strictly up and down?”

Lionel tugged on the lead rope, and Elwood started forward. At first all I could think about was breaking my tailbone on the ground below. After a few minutes I stopped worrying and began to enjoy myself. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and I was riding a camel. Did life get any better than this?

Lionel's voice interrupted my Hallmark card moment. “Do you want to go faster?”

I grinned, and Lionel signaled for Elwood to pick up the pace. Now we were trotting. The ride was fun for about five minutes; then my butt started to protest. Riding Elwood was a lot like my life, unexpected and very bumpy.

“Hey,” I shouted down to Lionel. “How do I stop him?”

Elwood's head swiveled toward me. His feet came to an abrupt halt, sending my body flying forward over the pommel. In slow motion I watched the ground as it zoomed closer. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for painful contact. Instead, a pair of strong arms caught me and pulled me close.

I found myself looking right into Lionel's deep green eyes. He gave me a sheepish smile. “I should have warned you. Elwood responds to commands from people he likes.”

“I'm glad he likes me.”

“Yeah. Too bad he's not the only one.” Lionel's eyes darkened. My mouth went dry as he dipped his head toward mine. I licked my lips in anticipation of the touch of his lips against my…forehead?

I blinked as Lionel set me back on my own two feet. What happened? Did I have éclair breath?

Lionel walked over to Elwood and started unbuckling Elwood's saddle. Over his shoulder he said, “If you're feeling better, maybe we should talk about your car.”

My car? “What about my car?”

He gave me one of those “boy, are you dense” looks. “It had a big nail in one of its tires. Remember?”

Shrugging off the returning panic, I said, “Zach is fixing my tire. What else do you need to talk about?”

“Someone flattened your tire on purpose.”

I nodded. “I know. Probably the same person who scribbled on the rink doors.”

“It could be the same person who murdered Mack.” Lionel's voice rang with concern. He squinted at me in the bright sunlight as he tried to judge my reaction.

“I thought of that,” I admitted.

“And?”

Elwood nosed my arm looking for attention. I ignored Lionel's pointed stare and scratched Elwood's head. I could see Lionel out of the corner of my eye waiting for me to say more.

Throwing up my hands, I huffed, “And I don't know. The person who wrote on the door used lipstick. That's a little childish for a cold-blooded killer, don't you think?” I also thought that the color was all wrong for a maniac. Charles Manson wouldn't wear Passionate Plum.

Lionel didn't appreciate my logic. “The thing in your tire wasn't childish. Someone wants to scare you out of town.”

“I'd love to accommodate them,” I quipped. “Only I can't.”

Elwood nuzzled me, and I looked around the pasture for some kind of treat. No treats, only Lionel standing leaning against the fence with his hands wedged in his back pockets and his foot tapping the ground. His eyes narrowed.

“Okay,” I conceded. “I'll stop by the sheriff's office and file a report about my car. Happy?”

He nodded in agreement, but annoyance lingered in his eyes. Now I was irritated. Two minutes ago I'd been happy after taking a perfectly fun camel ride. Now Lionel was spoiling the moment by not kissing me and dredging up psychotic killers.

I let Lionel drive me to the sheriff's office. As I grabbed the door handle, I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“If you need help you'll call me, right?”

“Sure I will.” Maybe.

He leaned close. “I don't want anything to happen to you.” My breath caught as his lips brushed mine. A second later, they were gone. “Here,” he said as he reached under his seat and pulled out the nail used to deflate my tire. “Give this to the sheriff.”

Breathless, I hopped out of the truck. My legs gave a tiny quiver, but I stayed upright as I clutched the rusty spike to my chest and watched Lionel drive off.

Wow, I thought. Either I was desperate or Doctor Lionel Franklin packed a hell of a wallop. If his lips could make me all tingly from a single touch, I couldn't help wondering what they could do with more time.

 

Roxy was at her desk wielding a compact and a mascara wand. She looked up at me and smiled. “Hey, Rebecca. I was wondering when you'd come by.”

“Why?” I asked. Maybe the grapevine had gotten hold of information about my flat tire. “Did you hear something?”

Roxy squinted into her little mirror. “Deputy Holmes said he found you snooping around Mack's place. Personally, I think he should have busted you.” Roxy glared at me from around the mirror. “He didn't because Sean's got a thing for redheads.”

What luck, I thought.

I dropped the rusty nail thingy on the counter, sending the sound of metal hitting Formica ringing throughout the room. Roxy jumped and almost poked her eye out with the mascara wand.

“What's that?” she demanded. I couldn't help feeling a stab of satisfaction that I finally had her attention.

I shrugged. “Beats me. I found it sticking out of my tire. I guess redheads aren't everyone's type.”

Quickly, I related the story of my flattened tire.

Hearing about the note made the pencil-enhanced eyebrows on Roxy's face rise. “Wow, Rebecca. You really pissed someone off.”

Roxy handed over the report she'd scribbled out. I read it and signed my name. Then I casually rested my elbows on the counter and asked, “Have they figured out what was used to drug Mack?”

“Yes and no.” Roxy grabbed her compact and attacked her nose with the powder puff.

I blinked. “What's that mean?”

Roxy peered at me. The white powder and the dark mascara she'd applied made her look like a mime. “Yes, Doc Truman figured it out, and no, I ain't going to tell you, Rebecca. You need to let the authorities here do their jobs. Now get out of here, and tell your grandfather I say hello.” She gave me a fake smile that I returned with one of my own.

I walked out into the sunshine. As far as I could tell, Sheriff Jackson was a gardener and Sean Holmes was annoying, which meant if I waited for them to do their jobs I'd have a lovely garden and a bad disposition to show for it. Neither was appealing.