Suspicious Minds (Squeaky Clean Series, Book 2) (31 page)

The blush came again. I looked at the screen, only to realize that I'd gone an hour and twenty minutes past the time I needed. I hit rewind and tried not to get caught up in replaying Mrs. Mystery's compliment.

Or her proclamation that Riley and I were meant to be together.

Or that I was special.

I'd always wanted someone to tell me that.

"You passed it again" She pointed to the TV.

I went six minutes too far this time. I sighed. I had to pay attention.

I hit play and began watching the video, waiting for the man or woman to check out.

"I wonder if that's him." Mrs. Mystery pointed to a man in the corner of the screen. The manager appeared to be helping the man. I saw a big sign that said Xbox on the wall above.

"I'd bet my bottom dollar"

I could only see the man's back. I leaned in closer. The grainy picture reminded me of those cheap gas-station videos they played on the news when trying to find robbery suspects. No one could tell anything from the images. Invest some money and protect your business, people!

"Turn around. Turn around!" Riley hated it when I talked to TV screens. Sometimes I did it just to get on his nerves. What did that say about me as a friend?

I stared at the TV again. What would I do when I saw this man's face? Burn the image in my memory and search desperately throughout the area for the suspect? That would be like finding an animal by-product in Sierra's house. Impossible.

I could inform the police, and maybe they would recognize the man. Doubtful, but it could be worth a try.

The man on the screen bent down to tie his shoe, looked up at the manager, and then picked up the box. But he still hadn't shown his face. Only one minute until checkout time.

Of course, the time on the camera and the time on the cash register differed by a couple of minutes. So I continued to stare at the man's back. At his not skinny and not fat build. At the T-shirt and jeans he wore. I got a glimpse of some glasses every once in a while. Finally, with the box in hand, he turned toward the register.

I squinted. Leaned closer. Tried to get a better look.

The man almost looked like ...

I shook my head. It couldn't be.

My face nearly touched the TV screen.

Then I propelled myself back in my chair and shut my eyes.

It couldn't be.

I opened my eyes again.

It was.

"Are you okay?" Mrs. Mystery waved her hand in front of my face.

I nodded. "I'm fine. I just need to get home and sort a few things out"

"You're not telling me something."

I hit stop on the VCR and ejected the tape. Then I shoved the evidence in my purse and motioned my neighbor to follow me. "I'll explain later. Let's get out of here"

No one said anything to us as we walked out of the store. I'd show the tape to the police. Then I'd tell them who they needed to arrest.

Inside the van, my cell phone rang. I saw Chad's number and answered.

"Hey, I have a job for us. I'm there right now and hoping you can join me.

"I might be able to get there tonight. I have to do something first"

"Alright. But I'll object to the sixty-forty split if I do all the work myself."

"Rightfully so" I tucked the phone between my head and shoulder, trying to concentrate on the traffic around me. "So, where are you?"

He told me the address.

I got off at the next exit and turned around. I had to go to this job pronto.

MY VAN screeched to a halt in front of the familiar Ocean View house. I threw the vehicle into park and turned swiftly toward my prim passenger, who gripped her purse with bulging knuckles.

"Wait here;" I instructed, keeping my voice firm.

I didn't hear her response as I jumped from the van and hurried toward the house. I rounded the corner to the back yard and nearly collided with Chad.

"Whoa! Where's the fire?"

I sucked in a breath, glad to see my new business partner in one piece. I grabbed his arm with enough force to tear it off. "Are you okay?"

He shrugged as if I'd lost my mind. "Yeah. Are you?"

"Something's not right."

"Is that what someone told you? Because I think you're, like, completely normal, Gabby." He grinned mischievously and nudged my chin with his knuckles.

I scowled. "That's not what I meant. I mean, this house, the homeowner, the dead bodies"

"If it will make you feel better, you can guard the crawl-space opening while I go in" He thrust a hose used for the mold-killing chemicals into my hands. "Use this to protect yourself."

"This isn't funny. Do I need to remind you of the two dead people who've been found under there? I don't know why I didn't see the connection earlier" It couldn't all be a coincidence. It couldn't.

"See what earlier?"

I stomped my foot to emphasize my words. "This home is the link to the murders"

Chad rubbed his goatee. Or maybe he hid another smile. I didn't care at the moment.

"This abandoned home is the dumping site," he finally said slowly.

"But what if it's not?"

"You're totally not making sense." Exasperation crept into his voice, and his smile disappeared.

"I just think we should go to the police"

"That's not a good idea." The whiny voice belonged to neither Chad nor me.

We both jerked our heads toward the sound.

Bob Bowling appeared from the side of the house.

With a gun.

I couldn't pull my gaze away from the steely weapon. I'd felt what a bullet could do to a human body. I didn't want the same fate to rip through my muscles and bones again.

"What's up with the gun?" Chad took a step back and held his hands in the air. In the process, he dropped the tank full of chemicals that could have potentially been used to protect us. Einstein.

Bob pointed the weapon at me again, and I drew in a sharp breath. Please don't let him be clumsy. Please don't let the Doughboy be clumsy. One slip of the finger and ... I gulped. Couldn't think about it. Couldn't stop thinking about the feeling of a bullet ripping through my flesh again.

"Why don't you ask your friend?" The sweat covering Bob's pasty face reminded me of pastry glaze.

I shrugged, trying to play nonchalant. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just came here to do a job"

"Don't feign stupidity. I heard your earlier conversation. I thought you might figure things out eventually." His hands trembled.

The good news was that this man wasn't inherently evil. But the bad news was that he still was evil.

"Figured what out?" I really hadn't figured everything out. I simply had some nagging suspicions. I needed more time to piece the puzzle together. And I really needed more time to stall and come up with a plan to save my life ... and Chad's.

"I didn't kill him, you know."

"I know you didn't, Bob. He ate one of your neighbor's cookies, not realizing that she used peanuts in them. When he went into anaphylactic shock, you panicked"

Sweat poured down the man's forehead. He said nothing, so I continued, testing out my theory.

"You couldn't call the police. If you did, they would find out that you've been stealing people's identities. You're the tie with all the ID theft I've heard about lately. You worked on Darnell's computer and accessed information about his entire fan club by hacking into his server. I didn't take you for a killer, but desperate times must call for desperate measures.

"I had no idea the man was allergic to peanuts!"

"How did he find out about you, Bob? How did Darnell know you'd stolen his identity?"

He wiped his brow with his free hand. "Oh no, you don't. This isn't an episode of Scooby-Doo. I'm one bad guy who's not going to answer all of your questions while you stall for time"

I held my hands-or I should say hand since my injured shoulder didn't allow for much raising-in the air. Not so much in surrender though. More to say calm down, relax. Don't shoot.

"I'm assuming that Darnell put two and two together. You worked on his computers, and members of his fan club were being hit with ID theft. So he tracked you down. You asked him to meet you over here to discuss things. What was your plan after that? If you didn't plan to kill him, what did you plan to do?"

Sweat had once beaded on Bob's face-now it melted like a doughnut under heat.

"I was going to pay him off." He let go of the gun with one hand and wiped his sleeve over his forehead. "ID theft is the perfect crime. It's nearly impossible to track down people involved with it. But Darnell started to blackmail me. I had to keep stealing money in order to pay him. I was going to offer him five hundred thousand dollars to be quiet forever."

And Darnell was going to take that money and run, telling people he'd taken a gig in Vegas. "Killing him was the only answer," I muttered.

"No! I didn't kill him. He ate that cookie. I didn't know." He pointed the gun at me again. "That's when I called you both. I couldn't forget about his body. I needed someone to discover it."

The man continued talking. The more he talked, the longer I lived, so I wanted to keep him going. "And you shot him later, after putting some thought into it, to make his death look like a drug deal gone bad, right? What I don't understand is why you killed the mold remediation man"

"He came inside my house to use the bathroom-without asking. He knew that Elvis had died here. He even asked me about it earlier. When he saw a package that had just been delivered with Darnell's name on it, I knew he'd figured things out. It was never supposed to get out of hand like this" His gaze darkened. "And now I'll have two more murders to add to my rap sheet"

"Man, you don't have to kill us. We won't tell anyone" Chad tried to negotiate. The amateur. Didn't he know that never worked?

But it did seem like a good option when your life was on the line.

"Really, we won't tell a soul," I echoed.

Doughboy chuckled. He pointed the gun again. "Get under the house. Both of you"

I remembered the surroundings beneath the house. The smell of decay. The cobwebs. The snakes. I shuddered.

"Now!"

I started toward the crawl space. "What are you going to do to us?"

"You're going to work under the house. But unfortunately, another tragic accident is going to occur. The gas line is going to break"

"You don't think the police will be suspicious that two more people have died under your house?" I tried reason. Reason had to work, didn't it?

"I've saved enough money to start a new life under a new name. I'm getting out of this business and skipping the country."

"You'll never be able to get away from what you've done, you know. Even if you manage to escape Virginia, you'll never escape your conscience"

Bob's face became redder by the second. "Get under the house. Now!"

"You won't get away with this" I had to try and keep talking. Try to buy a few more minutes of life. Plus, I really didn't want to go under that house. I'd almost rather die by gun than by gas fumes.

"Now!" His voice rose.

I'd made him angry. Angry people did stupid things. Like pulling triggers. At least under the house, I might be able to escape.

I stared at the computer guru one more minute. Could I take him down? Chad and I together could surely overpower him.

But not his gun. That small little Glock could stop my heart in one second flat.

"I'm going"

Chad and I exchanged glances. I couldn't read the emotion in his eyes. He seemed rather at ease. Of course, Chad always seemed at ease. Maybe he knew something I didn't.

I stared at the opening to the crawl space. The door-probably pulled off by Chad earlier-was gone. Various pieces of equipment lay scattered on the grass.

Bob pointed the gun at Chad. "You get in first. Try anything funny, and the girl dies"

"I'm going" Chad glanced at me before getting on his hands and knees, lowering himself to his belly, and then army crawling forward, inch by inch. When his feet disappeared, I felt my stomach churn with nausea.

My turn now.

I got on my hand and knees. Stretched until my stomach hit the prickly grass. Used my elbow to pull myself into the darkness. My injured arm ached with all the jostling and movement.