The Devil Wore Sneakers (6 page)

Gramps’s stroke had left him helpless, and his care had occupied all her non-work hours. She and Ryan had argued over how to deal with his illness until Ryan had placed him in the nursing home. He’d been legally in charge of Gramps’s medical needs.

At the corner, the “walk” light flashed for her to wait. Ahead stood the familiar white-steepled church. A few years ago, she would have dropped in and allowed the peace and quiet to soothe her nerves. Too bad she was done with houses of worship.

“I love you, Lucy.”

“Matt?” She jerked her gaze to the street and then behind her. The usual traffic lumbered past on its way to towns with more tourists and cooler stores. Two men hurried by her, talking about the best deal on riding mowers.

She shivered. Okay, her mind was playing tricks. Matt couldn’t be here. He didn’t know where she’d gone, did he? Then again, where was he?

Goose bumps popped up on her arms. The “walk” light flashed to green. Tilting her chin upward, she took off, but sent fleeting glances over her surroundings. The window of Hannah’s Gift Shop advertised handmade soaps and New Hampshire maple syrup. An awning over the door rattled in the breeze.

“Lucy Watson! Lucy!”

She slowed. Isabella— or Bella— Jackman darted across the road.

“Bella, are you okay?”

“No.” The young woman gulped a breath. Mascara ran down her wet cheeks. “The police want to ask me more questions, but I refused. I’m afraid if I go into the station, they won’t let me out. They think I shot Ryan.” Tears clouded her eyes, and she wiped her hand over them, smearing more of her makeup. “Why did you tell them I killed him? I wanted to marry him. I can’t marry a dead man.”

“You’re confused. I never said you killed him.” The girl needed to get a grip, yet there was something sad and needy about her.

“Then why did the chief want to talk to me again?”

“Isabella, I’m sure he interviews everyone several times before he has all the facts.”

“Police make me nervous.” She glanced around as if she expected Chief Sullivan to pop out with handcuffs. “He’s looking for someone to arrest. I moved to Barley because my brother told me the town was full of friendly people. I don’t feel like they’re too welcoming now. My fiancé’s been murdered. I see stares and hear whispers when I walk by a group of women, and the chief of police is asking me about my alibi.”

How well did her brother know this woman? “How long were you and Ryan engaged?”

“He proposed after two dates. We met the first day I arrived in Barley, four months ago. Ryan was at the Moose when Hank brought me over to introduce everyone.” Bella’s voice sounded far away as she stared into the distance. A small smile wavered across her face before the tears returned.

“I’m sorry, Bella, but a police interview doesn’t mean the chief assumes you’re guilty.”

“He wouldn’t waste an hour with me if he thought I was innocent.” She wiped her palm on her wet cheeks. “Please don’t bring up my name if you talk to him again.”

The clock on the church steeple bonged.

“I better go. If I’m late to work, I get in trouble.” Bella whirled around and dashed into the gift shop.

Lucy rubbed her arms. Had Bella loved Ryan, or the idea of romance? Was the woman overly sensitive?

From the street came a vehicle’s honk as Liam’s silver pickup swerved to the curb beside her. The passenger window lowered. “Hey, you forgot your meal when you took off from the Moose yesterday.” He held up a takeout box.

She inched up to his truck. “You left work to bring me my leftovers?”

“Yeah.”

The wind whipped her hair over her eyes. She shoved at it while trying to hide her pleasure over his small act.

“Get in, Luce. I’ll give you a ride.”

If only he’d stop calling her by her childhood name. “Do you always drive around town delivering forgotten lunches? By the way, you don’t know where I’m going.”

“Point me in the direction and I’m there. C’mon. Riding beats jogging in the cold. Wait till you feel my heater.” He wriggled his brows.

It was four miles to Ryan’s house, and it was chilly, and for a second, she’d been about to laugh. “Pervert.” She yanked on the door handle.

He shoved the takeout over to make room for her as she climbed into the passenger seat.

“Just you.”

“What?”

“I only deliver forgotten meals to you.” He quirked a smile and his eyes twinkled. In the past, the glint meant he was planning something that would send his parents’ hearts into cardiac arrest. As he grew older, the spark communicated a more personal message.

A small wave of pleasure lifted her spirits until her conscience warned,
Be careful
.

“Now, where am I going?”

“The police removed the yellow tape at Ryan’s house. I want to check out what needs to be done and to look for Target.”

“You have a big agenda.”

“If you don’t mind dropping me off, I—”

“A drop-off is not an option. I’ll take you and stay until you’re finished.”

“What about work?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” He moved his foot from the brake and steered into the street. “I have an in with the boss.”

 
Along stretches of the road, plastic tubing ran from maple tree to maple tree to collect the sap. Ryan had loved maple syrup on his ice cream.

Her mind flooded with memories of her brother. He’d worn his leather jacket every day in high school. When he went away to college, he packed T-shirts and jeans with holes. Their stepmother complained that she’d bought him new clothes for nothing and that Ryan was an ungrateful stepson. She stopped grumbling when their father announced he had been offered a job in Rhode Island. They’d left Barley, and at fifteen, Lucy had moved in with her grandfather a mile north of the Barley Center.

“Since Ryan wasn’t keeping up with his bills,” Liam’s voice broke into her thoughts, “if you sell his house, you might have to pay off a few debts.”

“When did you learn this?”

He glanced over at her. “Before he died, and I learned more after the funeral. I don’t know why he fell behind or what he was doing with his money. He’d kept his problem a secret until he was behind in his payments. I don’t think he was drinking, but as I said, he didn’t like to share.” Liam slowed the truck.
 

They must have reached Ryan’s driveway. “That’s my brother. Pretend everything is okay and it will be.” He’d adopted her father’s coping mechanisms, while she’d fallen into her mother’s role of family protector and nurturer.

The truck bounced over a rut and roused her from her thoughts. “When did Ryan buy his place?”

“Two years ago, after he’d taught for a year.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t want a home nearer the action in Barley Center.”

“The couple who owned the property wanted to dump it fast and move on from their divorce. Ryan told me he’d found an old farmhouse in the woods for the perfect party location. The outside needs work, but the former owners had fixed up the inside to the point where it was livable.”

“How long was my brother sober?”

“According to him, his one-year anniversary is next month.”

She knew they had the same question. Had he been able to give up alcohol? They’d never find out the truth. He’d miss many celebrations. Lucy clasped her cold hands together in her lap. “I’m glad he found a home.”

Bare tree branches stretched out to their windows as though to grab them on their way down the drive. Someone had driven right up to the house, shot Ryan, and left without a single person spotting him or her. Lucy looked straight ahead, but her mouth went dry as they drew closer to her brother’s last home and the scene of his murder.

A farmhouse in a clearing came into view. Faded white paint and missing clapboards warned her the place was run-down, but the eighteenth-century charm drew her. “It’s more a cottage.”

“Right. Your basic two bedrooms upstairs.”

The front stoop beckoned visitors to knock. The yard showed no signs of landscaping.

“Are you thinking how I could have shot Ryan?” Liam raised his brows.

“What? No. Would I come with you if I believed you killed him? Besides, you’re a softie for anyone with a sob story. I remember you giving people rides home from school all the time.”

“Are you kidding? Next, you’ll expect me to pick flowers and recite poetry.” He frowned.

“Liam Longfellow,” she teased. “I like it.”

His steady gaze bore into her, and he seemed to be waiting for her response. What had she been doing? She’d been flirting with him. What was wrong with her?

“Liam, I’m sorry for how I treated you before I left Barley. We broke up and you were free to do—”

“It’s ancient history,” he said, cutting her off. “You were twenty-one. I was twenty-five.”

“You married.”

“I divorced after a short marriage.”

“Please listen.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “I’ve often thought of what went wrong with us. First, I wouldn’t forgive you because I believed you were like everyone else. I mean, my family seemed to disappear before my eyes. My mother, my father…even Ryan wanted me to get lost and stop bothering him. When you didn’t marry me, I grouped you with them. I was angry.” She twisted her fingers and then forced herself to be still.

“I wish I made better decisions when I left Barley, but I didn’t. I’ve had bad relationships. Heck, the last man I became involved with had stolen another person’s identity. I hope you can understand that I need to concentrate on getting myself together. Looking at my choices.”

Yes, her dating life ended in disasters. Matt had exploited her in twisted mind games. Worst, she wasn’t blameless in their relationship.

Why didn’t Liam say something? Her stomach ached with nerves. She glanced at him as he shut off the engine. “Make sense?”

“I’ve gone through a lot of soul-searching myself, Luce. I understand.” He reached over and laid his palm on her knee for a second. The brief contact reassured and calmed her.

At that moment, she realized she wanted him in her life…as her friend.

“Want me to go in first and check it out?”

She shook her head and pushed down on the handle. Sitting alone in the truck and waiting would be worse.

“Before you go inside, I heard something at the Moose.” He turned to her. “Your grandfather’s hunting guns were stolen from Ryan’s house. I know his effects mean a great deal to you.”

“I appreciate you letting me in on town gossip, but Sullivan filled me in. Who told you?”

“It’s one of those open secrets floating around. The Rotary members were talking about it at their breakfast today.”

“Thanks. Gramps’s belongings do mean the world to me.”

“Your grandfather didn’t like me much.”

She shrugged. “He was afraid you would get in trouble and take me with you. Admit it, you pushed the edge in your younger days.”

“Your grandfather believed I wasn’t good enough for you or Ryan.”

“Gramps wanted me to wait until I was forty to date. Are you sure Ryan still owned the rifles?”

“I helped him move them into his house. I told him to get in touch with a weapons expert to find out their value, but most likely he didn’t.”

“Maybe he sold them.”

“I was at his place the day before his death, and the locked gun box was in the den. He thought the rifles were cool even if he didn’t use them. You know your brother.”

“I did.” She jumped out of the car. The wind blew through her nylon shirt, and dirt swept past her running shoes. She headed for the house.

Liam dogged her heels. “Everyone used the side door to enter.” He took the lead to the entrance, where he held out his palm. “Key.”

He was avoiding the front hall where Ryan was shot. She could wait, too. She passed the key to him. As the metal jiggled in the lock, she gazed over the back yard. A brick patio with two Adirondack chairs reminded her of summer days and cool breezes at dusk. Her brother always kept a cooler of adult refreshments nearby.

Who had shared his evenings with him? Was it Clarissa, Bella, or an unknown person? Ryan loved to frequent bars, pick up women, and bring them home. His history of one-night stands was well-known.

She saw him now in a chair, turning to her with a beer in a raised hand to welcome her.

Liam touched her arm. “You okay?”

She blinked away the scene. “I’m fine. Just open up.”

He shoved the door wide, and she marched past him into the kitchen. The room looked worn, but warm. The butcher-block countertops and spotless white appliances were neat and clean. “I guess Ryan continued his avoidance of cooking.”

“He stopped at the Moose daily for supper.”

Two silver bowls on the floor had the name Target etched on them. Her brother’s one true love, his pet. “Sullivan told me the dog wasn’t in the house when they searched, and the door had been left open. I’ll try putting out a dish of food. Maybe Target’s hiding in the woods.”

She wandered into the hall and glanced into a paneled den with a large-screen TV mounted on the wall. The leather furniture added to the masculine feel. A rawhide bone lay beside the recliner. Too homey.