Designed to Death (A Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery) (19 page)

“Then why are you seeing him?”

“Good night, Detective.” I held open the front door.

“Message received, Miss Hunter.” Ted nodded once and stepped out into the rain.

A pair of headlights pulled onto the street. I stopped and watched. Was the chief bringing my grandmothers home, or had they called Steve to check up on me?

Ted kept vigil in front of my door, keeping an eye on the car. It slowed but crept past mine and my grandmothers’ driveways and pulled into Steve’s. The dim light from the porch lamp let me recognize Steve.

He glanced over at my house.

“Doesn’t look like trouble.” Ted nodded a greeting at Steve as he walked to his cruiser.

I waved.

Steve opened his door and went inside, without one hint of acknowledgement toward me.

Tears whispered along my lashes. What was that about?

I backed into my house, closed the door and locked it. I leaned against it for a moment, fighting back tears even though I knew no one saw me. I wanted so much to unleash the sob building in my chest and heart.

No. I wouldn’t let a man crush me again.

If Steve somehow found out already about my past and thought me unworthy, then so be it. I didn’t grovel. Anymore. I begged and pleaded for a man once and ignored signs that should’ve made me run.

Not a mistake I’d make a second time.

Wiping my tears with the bottom of my shirt, I wandered back into my living room area. I paused, sniffing the air. A weird scent lingered. A cross between stale donuts and some woodsy scent crossed with lavender. Ted did woodsy but not with a flower mixed into it.

Not that I spent a lot of time smelling Ted or anyone else. It also took Darlene off my suspect list. Whenever we had a crop, she always marked in the comment sections of our survey we need less sugar in the snacks we served, including a rundown of the nutrition facts on the sheet. Or if homemade, a question if we had inspected the kitchen to ensure proper food handling and preparing techniques. Yep, Darlene made a crop fun.

The weird mix clung to the room, or something in it. I sniffed around until I came to the culprit. My grandfather’s afghan. Why did my grandfather’s blanket smell like—nope, not going there. I didn’t need to gather up a bunch of theories of why this one item in my home took on such a strong smell of the criminal. I’d rather be dense on the topic.

Gingerly, I picked it up and carried it to the washer. I opened the top then dropped it on top of the dryer. Darn it. It was full. I had to do a load of laundry now. What a great way to end this truly, horrible, miserable, no good day.

An image flickered in my mind. I grabbed the bottle of detergent. The memory tickled my mind again, insistent. I closed my eyes and concentrated. I was in the office. Grandma Cheryl busted in. I shoved a flash drive into my jeans pocket.

The flash drive! Did I leave it in my pocket? I dropped the bottle to the ground, it bounced off my toe. Ouch! I waded through my dirty clothes until I found the jeans I wore Sunday. I shoved my hands into all the pockets. Yes!

I pulled it out and did a happy dance. More like a happy hop as my toe throbbed. What was a little injury when I found the evidence someone didn’t want me to have. Take that bad guy. Thought you could thwart me.

My celebration was short lived when I remembered what they had on me. Maybe, they’d be up for a trade. After I made a copy of everything and hid it in a place they’d never think of looking, like Darlene’s house. Everyone knew we didn’t like each other. There was no way they’d think we’d work together to protect the other one.

Yep, they’d think Darlene would turn on me faster than the numbers on the national debt clock.

I retrieved my cell and went to the recent calls section. I highlighted Darlene’s number and hit send.

She answered on the second ring. “You’re in.”

“I’m in.”

“Good. Tomorrow morning strategy session at the store.”

“Someone will overhear us.”

“Where wouldn’t someone overhear us that wouldn’t look suspicious? It’s not like we visit each other’s homes.”

True.

“We need someplace that easily explains why we are there together and where we can meet soon,” Darlene said. “The ‘you’re guilty’ finger is keeping a steady bead on me right now. I’m not going to jail. I’ll do whatever is necessary to stay out.”

Like destroying items in my home and taking my ugly to display to the world
. Oh shut up, I told myself. I already decided it wasn’t Darlene so I shouldn’t travel back down that road of suspicion.

We needed a meeting place where Darlene and I would naturally show up at the same time. There went three-fourths of the buildings in town. The grocery store, we only had two and residents frequented both. It held the same risk as Scrap This...too many ears. The hospital. No, her mother and my grandmothers would drive us both crazy. We’d be in Ted’s office fighting over which one of us did kill Belinda just to escape the worry and lectures.

“I’m waiting...” Impatience tightened Darlene’s voice.

“I’m thinking...” I responded, mimicking her tone.

Ted’s office. The police station. Not bad, except we didn’t want Ted or Bobbi-Annie figuring out what we were up to. We might as well just take an ad out in the paper. The newspaper. Now there was a good possibility. Except for nosy chasing-after-Steve Karen England. She’d be on the phone to Steve to tell him all about my new buddy. Not that he really cared what I did anymore.

A heaviness filled my being. No moping over a guy. Besides, who said it was about me. The man had a tough job and had been working all hours. Even though he wasn’t on Belinda’s case, the county had a lot of other crimes he needed to prosecute.

It seemed everyone in town wanted in on taking out legal action against someone. The perfect idea hit me. I grinned. “The courthouse.”

“Courthouse?”

“Yep. If anyone sees us there, they’re going to think we’re going to war against each other.”

“Brilliant. The person who’s trying to set up one of us will think their plan worked and we’re working to prove each other guilty.”

“Exactly.”

I’d feel a little bad using Darlene except I knew she was also joining forces in this sleuthing gig to save her own hide.

NINETEEN

I parallel parked in front of the courthouse. Hitching the strap of my purse onto my shoulder, I exited my car. Showtime. I lifted my chin toward the sky and marched forward, getting into the act from the get go.

“Oh Faith...” A voice sing-songed.

I nearly tripped over my own feet.

Karen England. Not someone I wanted around when I was creating the diversion of a lifetime. It was going to be hard enough for me and Darlene to pull this off without an observant reporter watching us. If anyone could figure out we were up to no good, it was Karen...and Steve. I hoped he was in court this morning and Mrs. Alwright didn’t notify him of my presence.

My shoulders slumped forward as I turned around. No sense getting on Karen’s bad side when I needed her kind of liking me and not wanting to cause trouble. Right now, she figured being my friend was a way to win Steve’s heart so I might as well use it for my benefit.

“Good morning, Karen.”

“You’re sure in a hurry. You forgot something.” Karen placed a hand on the parking meter by my car. “I’d hate for you to get a ticket. I know these beauties always get checked.”

Of course they did, the meter people, not just gals in this town, didn’t have to go far. Most people were either running late or so much in a tizzy they routinely forgot to feed the meters in front of the courthouse. Easy source of income for Eden.

“Thanks.” I opened my large bag and dug around for a quarter as I walked back to my car. I turned up a book of stamps with only two stamps, a couple of cough drops, three hundred pens, or something along that number, but no quarter.

“I got one.” I heard a muffled plink.

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to sound begrudging.

This was such an odd start for a day, thanking Karen for being helpful to me. I started worrying about the meeting with Darlene. I had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to go as planned.

“Visiting Steve this morning?” Karen kept her eyes opened wide, portraying a friendly innocence not matching the glint of steel in her blue eyes.

The question I had to answer first was did I want to tell her the truth, a slightly off-centered truth, or a bold faced lie. Decisions. Decisions. Decisions. Thinking fast on my feet, after drinking only one cup of coffee, wasn’t a strong suit of mine.

Piquing her interest with a version of the truth might work best in my favor. I went with a mix, and left Steve out of it. He’d thank me for it later.

If he ever found out.

“No. Though, I wouldn’t mind seeing him of course.” I had to make sure she knew Steve kind of belonged to me.

“Of course.” Karen’s smile became thinner and less happy looking.

“I have a tiny bit of business here at the courthouse. Stop people from speaking out of turn.”

“Do you now?” The smile turned into a sneer. “Anything involving a murder?”

I locked my knees to stop myself for taking a step back. Fear wiggled through me. Was Karen sent all that information about me? What better way to hurt me, and stay off the radar, then for the burglar to send the illegally obtained info to the newspaper. Karen wouldn’t care how it came into the anonymous informant’s hands, just that it was now in her’s. She wanted a big story. And she’d have it, and very possibly get Steve as a bonus.

“I’m sure you’ve heard what Hazel has been saying,” I said as nonchalantly as I could muster with my heart trying to escape from my body.

“It’s not what Hazel’s saying I’d be worried about.” Karen waved her hand, showing it was no concern of hers. “No one is surprised Hazel went off the deep end. Her life was wrapped around her daughter. Still is. I’d be more concerned about the editor-in-chief from Utah. She has a lot of clout, money, and resources to make your life miserable.”

“Thanks for the advice. I’ll do my best to stay off her radar.”

“Try harder, Faith, because she’s about to roast you alive.”

I hurried into the courthouse. Karen’s words swirled around me. Leslie Amtower had resources. Enough to hire someone to help her search my house. It explained the mix of donut and flower smell. I patted the pocket of my jacket where I kept the flash drive. Another one was in the coin section of my wallet. I wasn’t stupid enough to give Darlene the only one I had.

I squared my shoulders and gave myself a little shake, ridding myself of the ominous feelings Karen’s words stirred in me. I needed to look confident, perturbed, and determined...not like I had something to hide.

Mrs. Alwright looked away from her computer screen. Her eyes grew wide and she shot a horrified glance toward the hallway lined with chairs used as a waiting room for those not wanting to stand in line with friends or family paying taxes, filing documents, or having to give rides for a court appearance.

I glanced down the hall.

Darlene sat on one of the chairs, tapping her foot and glancing at her watch. She looked up and caught me staring at her. She made a point of looking at her wrist.

I was late. I got it. But before I went over there, I had to put on another little performance. I needed to get this case over with. All my working around the truth was going to lead to a lot of explaining on judgment day...or sooner if my grandmothers found out. I wasn’t sure which I feared more.

“Good morning, Faith.” Mrs. Alwright offered a toothy smile. “Let me just check Steve’s schedule. I do believe he’ll be out of court in ten minutes. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you waited for him in his office.”

“I didn’t come here to see Steve.” I leaned forward, talking in a loud, conspiratorial whisper.

“Did you buy a new car and need to register it? The line is short right now, it’ll pick up soon. I’d hurry in there.”

I bit back a smile. Darlene laid the groundwork real good. Mrs. Alwright wanted to make sure I didn’t spot my nemesis. “I’m not here to register anything or pay a ticket. I’m going to get the paperwork to file a restraining order...”

Mrs. Alwright’s eyes bulged out. Guilt reared its not so pretty head. I wanted to create a little explanation for my and Darlene’s talk, not give someone a heart attack.

“Honey, things like that get ugly. Do you really need to do that? It’s so extreme. Word will be all over town.” Mrs. Alwright emerged from behind the desk and gathered my hands into hers. Concern reflected in her hazel gaze.

Now I felt worse. She meant to help me, not knowing I had no intention of filing anything. I kept up with the charade. “She keeps calling me. Just because I work for my grandmothers doesn’t mean I can take phone calls all the time. I get it. She didn’t do it. I don’t know why she’s telling me, constantly, instead of Karen. Karen is the investigative reporter not me. Why would I even care?”

I halted myself. Boy, when I got going, I sure got going. I wanted to give reasons, not work myself into such a frenzy that I actually went and took out a restraining order on Darlene.

“This week has been so tragic already. There is no sense bringing more pain into the community. People taking sides...”

Not really a concern for me because I was pretty sure who most people would line up behind. Hint: it wasn’t Darlene.

“Gossip isn’t such a good thing for a community either,” I said.

Mrs. Alwright frowned. “I thought you said you were bothered by calls.”

I did, didn’t I. Drat. Okay, I needed an add-on for my explanation.

“Other people are talking also. I’ve had a few people say I’m involved.”

“No sense taking it out on Darlene.” Mrs. Alwright linked her arm through mine and led me toward Darlene. “Why don’t you girls just talk this thing out? I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.”

Thank you, Mrs. Alwright!

Darlene huffed and swiveled, giving me her back. “Of course you’re on Faith’s side. You work for one of her boyfriends.”

One of? So we were going there. Fine. I’d play. “You’re just jealous.”

“Of a hussy. I don’t think so.” Darlene snapped her fingers in the air.

Those were fighting words, pretend insult or not. “So a woman who has a man interested in her is a hussy? I’m sure your mom would like to know that’s what you call her behind her back.”

Darlene shot to her feet. “Excuse me! Ex...cu...se me.”

“What? Hard of hearing, Darlene? Your mother has a boyfriend—”

“Young ladies, enough from both of you.” Mrs. Alwright pressed a hand onto mine and Darlene’s shoulders, forcing us to take a seat. “If you keep this up, I’ll call both of your families. Besides, do you really want to be giving Karen something to write about?”

Darlene and I craned our necks.

Karen had taken up residence on the far side of the entrance area, a better position for staying within earshot without us being able to see her. Until she played a giraffe and stretched her body and neck out like she was reaching for the top of a tree for an early morning snack.

“No,” I said.

Darlene remained silent, glaring at me.

Geez, she started it. I nudged her ankle with my toe.

“No,” Darlene said none too happy.

I forgot for a moment Darlene was the type who liked giving it but thought she was above receiving it back. Since I had to work with her, I needed to eat some very unappetizing humble pie.

“I’m sorry. I never should’ve brought your mom into our argument.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Darlene crossed her arms.

Mrs. Alwright perched her reading glasses on the end of her nose and gazed down at Darlene, the disappointed Sunday school teacher scowl.

“I apologize also. I shouldn’t have called you a horrible name. It’s not your fault two of Eden’s most handsome, available men are interested in you.”

“Much better. You girls talk about this civilly.” Mrs. Alwright stuck out her index finger and moved it back and forth, calling us both out. “I’m going to see what Miss Pancake is up too.”

Mrs. Alwright was one of the people in Eden who refused to call Karen by her ‘made up last name’ as some of the older people in our town called it. They didn’t care if it was a legal name change or not. She was born Karen Pancake and would stay Karen Pancake.

The secretary straightened her spine and marched over to her desk, muttering under her breath. “She better not think she’s visiting Steve.”

Darlene placed her purse on her lap and opened it. She stuck her hands inside and withdrew a pen and a small notepad. “So, competition is what has you staking a firm claim into Steve.”

Color me impressed. She found what she wanted without having to look.

“He’s not a piece of property the first girl to sink her nails into gets.” I stuck my hand into my coat pocket and pulled out the flash drive. “Keep this safe.”

Darlene stared at the device like it was a poisonous apple.

“It’s not a bomb. Nor does it hold journaling confessing a murder.”

“What’s on it?” Darlene clutched her pen and pink and green paisley notebook. “We came here so I could tell you the plan.”

“I have a plan also. This...” I held the drive in front of her nose. “...is part of it. Someone broke into my house last night and erased all my files.”

Darlene examined her nails. Bored.

“Including all my photos.”

Darlene gasped and clutched her chest.

“He or she also broke the glass on all the framed pictures and took every single memory card I had.”

“All your photos are gone?” Darlene took hold of my hands.

I nodded.

“Animal!” Darlene clenched my hands harder. “Don’t fret. I’ll help you find the person responsible and get back your memories.”

There was something sweet and comforting about Darlene’s outrage. She was truly mad over this person taking away and wiping out my family history.

“I appreciate it.” I swallowed down some tears.

Darlene patted my hand. “I know. So, what’s on this?” Darlene plucked the flash drive from my fingers.

“The identity of who broke into my house and if I’m right...” I paused for dramatic effect. “Belinda’s murderer.”

“Why didn’t they take it?”

“It was in a place a criminal wouldn’t think of checking, a washing machine.”