Death Stretch (18 page)

The broken crockery was bad enough, but the Police Department’s fingerprint powder desecrated my haven even more. I felt as if I’d stepped in rapid hardening cement. Ginger put her arm around my shoulders.

Cam looked at the refrigerator, eyes wide, and whistled. “Shit, Katie.”

Ginger dropped her arm and clapped her hands. “All right, guys, let's get moving.” She addressed Cam. “Do you have shovels in the truck? Garbage bins? What about wipe rags?”

Cam tore his gaze from the lipstick message. “Yeah, come on, let's get started.” The crew left, unusually silent but for their heavy footsteps.

Ginger pulled me into a hug and patted my back. “We'll make it right, Katie. You'll see.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I don't cry often, but the sight of my kitchen on top of the last week or so, had me primed. “Why? Who could hate me this much?”

My friend's gaze took in the kitchen. “I'm not so sure it's about you.”

The crew stomped in and we got going. Ginger's cryptic statement kept my brain occupied while we cleaned. Most of my stuff was vintage Goodwill, so no great loss. I eyed the Fiesta Ware and Manhattan Glass. Why were those pieces spared? Was it done deliberately? Did the intruder run out of time? I mulled that along with Ginger's observation and before I knew it, the kitchen had undergone a major cleanup. I'd have to stock up on paper plates until I could hit some yard sales or Goodwill, but otherwise, everything looked good.

Ginger cleaned the message off the fridge door as best she could, but a residue remained. That must have been some kinda strong cosmetic.

“Thanks, guys, I owe you one.”

Cam threw his arm over my shoulders. “Don't worry about it, Katie. Just get past this and come back, okay? Jim is messing up the plans real bad.” He clapped his hand over his mouth. “But don't say I said that, huh? And take your time if you're not feeling up to coming back right away.”

A grin stole across my face. “Don't worry. I'll make it in tomorrow and I'll bring the doughnuts and coffee.”

Cam's relieved look made my smile grow. “Thanks, Katie, and I hope they find this guy.”

I punched his shoulder to keep from tearing up. “Me too.”

After the crew left, Ginger and I made sure the doors and windows were secure. She helped me pack enough stuff for a week. I trusted Dirk and Matt would find the creep threatening Ginger and me before then.

As we drove away, I looked back at my bungalow. I hoped it stood in one piece when I returned. Turning to the front, I asked, “Ginger, can you help me pick out some lipstick?”

She stood on the brakes and I almost hit the windshield. “Lipstick? For you?” Ginger hit the gas and gave me a speculative look. “Honey, Dirk has it bad for you. You don't need cosmetics to draw him in.” My friend returned her attention to the road. “Unless you want to make a slavering idiot out of him.” She paused. “You may want to wait until he catches the bad guy before you do that.”

“Oh for cripes sake. I'm wondering about the lipstick on my fridge.”

Ginger sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

“What does that crack mean?”

“Never mind. You're probably wondering what kind of lipstick comes in that shade, right?”

“Right.”

“An expensive tube. I’m pretty sure that shade was in last year’s spring line.”

I pulled out Dirk’s business card. The back was smeared with a sample from my fridge. “You up for a trip to Nordstrom's?”

Ginger didn't answer, just made the turn leading to Charlotte and the closest mall. Friends don't let friends go to cosmetic counters alone.

****

I opened Ginger's door to let Dirk and Matt enter. Dirk fired an opening salvo before I could greet them. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I'm thinking those words are the only way you know how to say hello to me.”

Dirk ran his hands through his unevenly cut hair. I wished he'd let me do that for him, but then he couldn't display his frustration. With me.

“I can't believe you waltzed into the Yoga Studio and asked two possible suspects questions. I did get that right, didn't I?”

Gulp. “Um, yes? Flash is a suspect?”

“I'm the one asking questions. Did you or didn't you go to the Yoga Studio today?”

I bobbled my head.

“Did you get into an altercation with Justin Nash?”

Ginger walked up behind me. “It wasn't an altercation. More of he shouted and she tried to calm him down.”

Dirk tapped his fingers on the doorframe. “Oh, really?”

I winced at his sarcastic tone. A quick glance at Matt's impassive expression told me that didn't go down well. Not well at all.

He slapped the frame with the palm of his hand. “I've got a witness who says Katie started it and kept it up after Justin walked away.”

“Flash. That bitch.”

He narrowed his gaze at me. “Funny, that's what she said about you.” He massaged his chin. “Used the same tone.”

“Why the hell aren't you arresting Flash? She has motive and opportunity, more than me. And she keeps trying to pin this murder on me. I vote for Flash.”

“We're looking at a number of suspects.”

He fixed Ginger with his Official Cop Look. “I'd like to discuss your visit to the Yoga Studio. May we come in, Mrs. Howe?”

They walked to the living room, me at the rear. “Ms. Sheridan, this interview is with Mrs. Howe.”

Matt shook his head at me, and I got the message. Don't push it.

I took refuge in the kitchen and pulled out the ingredients for oatmeal-chocolate chip-raisin-nut cookies. Ginger named them “kitchen sink” cookies. I called them comfort food.

I was performing a cookie dough taste test when Matt walked in.

“Hey, Katie. That batter looks good.”

“As an opening line, it's better than the one your partner used on me earlier.”

“Yeah, he's frustrated.” Matt parked his butt on a stool at the counter. He accepted my offer of ice tea and wiped his finger through the condensation.

“Katie, Dirk told me about your fight.”

“I thought guys didn't discuss stuff like that.”

He curled his lips down and snorted. “We don't, but when my partner acted like a short-tempered shit all day, I offered to beat it out of him.”

I dropped my dough tasting spoon into the mixing bowl. “He what?”

“The guy is worried about you.” He gulped tea. “I have to say, I am too.”

“Why? I'm here with Ginger. We have an alarm system and soon we'll have cookies. We're good.”

“Not so good.” He watched his tea but it didn't move. Neither did his gaze. “Our boss isn't so sure you're a victim.”

“What? You're joking, right?” I took a deep breath. “What about the mess in my kitchen?”

“He thinks you could have set that up.”

“The attempted hit and run?”

“Didn't happen that way. You lost control of the bike.”

“The BM? The shots fired?”

“BM? Oh, blackmailer. You could be in cahoots with someone or hired the job out.”

“Hired the job out? What, was he kidding? I work as a drafter. My salary wouldn’t let me hire out...a babysitter. Not that I need one. I thought he'd given up on me as the poisoner.”

“Someone with official pull is demanding he take another look.”

“Flash, that bitch.” Thinking back, I remembered she’d been chummy with the mayor’s wife at class that morning. “The mayor.”

“Bingo. When we interviewed Ms. Wells, she said her affair with Anderson ended amicably. The man's business partner backed her up about the affair. Said he knew Anderson and Ms. Wells were friendly.”

“Of course he said that. She's his new partner. He needs her cash.”

Matt leaned across the counter and enclosed my shaking hand. “Katie we're watching out for you. You won't get railroaded on our watch.”

“Thanks, Matt.” I took a deep breath. “Can you tell me if you're looking at Rob Howe?”

He hesitated. “We're working the case, Katie. You know that's all I can say.” Matt put his hand on my shoulder. “Don't worry and let us do our job. Everything will work out.”

Dirk's voice sounded from the doorway. “You better check whatever you've got in the oven.”

I turned and saw wisps of smoke curling up from the stove vents. “Damn, I hate when that happens.” I pulled the test batch cookie sheet from the oven. A little judicious scraping may have made the cookies edible, but I wasn’t up to the task.

“Matt, let's go.” Brr. Dirk's tone would have been handy in an August heat wave.

Matt shrugged, winked and squeezed my hand. He met Dirk at the door and answered his glare. “What? You told me to get her story.”

Dirk glared and left without a backward glance. Matt followed after a quick wave in my direction.

Ginger opened the back door and turned on the kitchen fan. “Boy, Howdie, girl. Whatever you're doing, keep it up. That man is hot for you.”

“Yeah, and I'm in hot water. Again.” I looked between the cookie dough and Ginger. “Should we just eat it raw or bake it? I vote for dough fest.”

She removed the mitts from my hand and moved me to the stool Matt had occupied. “Sit. Tell me all about it.” Ginger found two clean cookie sheets and started filling them. “Can you start water for tea? In about fifteen minutes, we'll each have a dozen cookies straight from the oven. We’ll need something liquid to help us drown our sorrow.”

Chapter Sixteen

I was deep in my work when the phone rang. I snagged the receiver without looking away from my computer screen.

“Rob's back.” Ginger's voice sounded calm, but I could about feel her shaking through the phone line.

I wondered if the BM would send Ginger another note with Rob back in town. If that happened, the coincidence would be too much for Ginger to ignore. Crap. I hoped for his innocence, even if he had acted like a shit lately.

“So did he tell you where he was for the past couple of days?”

“I didn't ask and I'm not so sure I care.”

Whoa. Ginger's tone made me wonder if she spoke in front of Rob. If she had, he would have had no illusions about her feelings.

She continued, “He finally admitted he lost our money in a high-risk investment, but that's not what has me pissed.”

I knew Rob must be in the room with her. “What does?”

“Rob's inability to communicate.”

The obvious answer to give Ginger was that her using me as a middleman to their conversation wasn't exactly communicating either. But something held me back. Maybe it was my belief she needed to vent. My reticence didn’t last long. “Ginger, you should be saying this to Rob, not me.”

“I know. But I'm too angry to look him in the eye, much less talk without screaming.”

“You're doing a great job of it with me. Just transfer your vent to him.”

“Oh, all right.” She hung up and I mirrored the action.

A shadow fell over my papers. I looked up and saw Dirk and Matt stood in front of me. Crap. Either they were in Ninja mode or I'd lost my hearing because I hadn't noticed the Get Solid trailer door open. If I'd heard them coming, I would've been hiding in the bathroom instead of wanting to cower under my desk.

Dirk's jaw looked tight but he managed to comment. “I take it Rob Howe returned.”

“Um, yeah. He's back.”

They had that cop partner thing happening. Without either of them speaking, Matt pulled out his phone and made a call to the station. I could hear him because Dirk didn't talk, just glared.

“I'm not talking to you, Johnson. If you have questions, Detective Pulaski can ask them. He knows how to be nice to me.” I sniffed. “At least he says hello when we meet, not like some people I know.”

He rubbed his hand through his hair. My attention followed the furrows his fingers left in his do. Simultaneously, his silent treatment bugged me.

“You here to arrest me? Because if you are, I finally have the name of a lawyer I can call.”

Dirk frowned. “No, we're not here to arrest you. Feeling guilty?”

Matt ended his call. “We came to ask if Mrs. Howe had gotten another blackmail note.” He looked at Dirk, but whatever he saw made him continue instead of turning over the conversational ball. “There haven't been any calls to your home, so we figured you've been okay.”

“I've been at Ginger's.” With Rob back, I'd be returning to my bungalow. The unhappy couple needed time alone. Ginger's anger wouldn't preclude her listening to his story and letting him stay there. At least overnight.

Dirk's expression darkened. It seemed he could hear my thoughts and didn't like them. “Where will you be tonight?”

I played with the idea of not telling him for about ten seconds. “At home.”

They exchanged cop looks. Crap. I hated when they did that.

Dirk tilted his head to the side. “That's not a good idea.”

Matt quietly backed away. “Mind if I use the john?”

I pointed down the hall. “Go ahead, Matt.”

Neither of us said anything until he left the room. Even then the silence drew tight. Dirk broke it. “Look, I'm sorry if I stepped on your toes but—”

“Stepped on my toes? I don't think so.” I searched for the right words, an elegant phrase. “Stomped ’em is what you did.” I didn't wait for him to find an excuse. “Either you trust me and think I'm innocent or you don't. Make up your mind and stop jerking my chain.”