Guidebook to Murder (10 page)

“Now don't jump to conclusions here.” Greg used his cop voice again. “One, we don't know that it is one of Miss Emily's paintings.”

I glared at him. “If Aunt Jackie says it is—”

Greg interrupted me before I could finish. “And two, even if it is, she could have asked someone to try to sell the paintings for her. I'm sure a gallery owner would be more open to working with someone younger and less opinionated than Miss Emily. She would know that she wasn't the best salesman.” He took out his cell and snapped a picture of the painting. Turning back to me, he said, “Let's go see what else is in that shed.”

Another day with Greg. My heart beat faster. All I needed to keep him visiting was to keep getting death threats and have people stealing from my shed.
And forget that he's married
, my rational side kicked in.

Well, there was that, too. I turned to Aunt Jackie. “Want to go with us? You could pick out a painting for your condo and avoid the gallery markup.”

“Maybe later, dear. I think I'm going to head back to the apartment and rest awhile. It's been a busy morning.” Aunt Jackie grabbed her purse and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She whispered in my ear, “Don't do anything I wouldn't . . .”

With an evil grin, she headed to the door. “So nice to see you again, Detective King.”

Greg grinned at me. “Are all the women in your life that fiery? No wonder you and Miss Emily got along so well.”

I considered showing him how fiery women in my family could get when I heard voices in the hallway.

“She's right in here.” Jackie stood at the kitchen door. “Jill, you have another visitor.”

Eric Ammond walked through the door. Seeing Greg, he stopped short. “I didn't realize you were entertaining, Miss Gardner. I can come back later.”

“I'm not entertaining. What do you want, Mr. Ammond?” Something must have come out in my voice because I could feel Greg's body almost touching mine as he moved closer.

Eric's gaze went from Greg to me. A slow smile crossed his face. A smile I didn't appreciate in the least. “I see. I am interrupting. I will come back later.”

Crossing my arms in front of me, I asked again, “What do you want—I don't want you to come back later. I've told you before, I'm not interested.”

“But you haven't heard my new offer.” Eric pulled out a piece of stark white paper that contrasted against his dark silk suit jacket. On anyone else, the suit jacket with jeans would have made them look like an off-strip Vegas performer. Way off-strip. On Eric, it made him look hot, sexy, and dangerous all at once. Just the type of guy I would have fallen head over heels for just five years ago. And the fact I knew he had a girlfriend would have made him more of a challenge, not a detriment. Thank God I was past that now.

Sometimes I hated my inner voice.

He held the paper out in front of me. “Aren't you even going to look at it?” His brown eyes danced with a joke I hadn't heard. He focused on Greg. “You are the town police detective, correct?”

Greg appeared to pull up his shoulders and gain five inches in height. “Detective Greg King.” He didn't hold out his hand to shake hands with Eric; instead, he put one hand on the small of my back.

Eric seemed amused by Greg's posturing. He turned his attention back to me. “So, you should feel safe enough to read my offer, correct?”

I ripped the sheet out of his hand. Glancing down at the paper, I gasped at the final offer, one point six million dollars. Half at signing and half in five years. “I don't understand. I don't have to sell for five years?”

“My attorneys inform me you are contractually bound by the terms of the will. I can wait. The deposit money just makes you more inclined to accept my offer. A carrot, if you will.” Eric pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. “Of course, if the amount is not to your liking, we can negotiate.”

He leaned back in the chair and waited.

“One point six for this place?” Jackie sat down in the chair next to Eric. I'd forgotten she was still here. “You could buy a chain of coffee shops for that kind of money. Maybe even a piece of Starbucks?”

“Mr. Ammond—”

He interrupted. “Eric, please call me Eric.”

“Eric,” I began again. “I told you I wasn't interested in selling. I'm not sure what type of development you and Mayor Baylor are planning, but you'll just have to build it somewhere else.”

I pushed the sheet of paper back toward him.

“Now, Jill, don't be too hasty. I'm sure Mr. Ammond would want you to take some time to think about this generous offer.” Aunt Jackie grabbed the sheet of paper before Eric could take it back.

“Your aunt is an intelligent woman. That is exactly what we need to do.” Eric stood, brushing a piece of imaginary lint off his suit jacket. “Please take some time to think about my offer. I'll be glad to answer any questions that may come up.”

He pulled out a business card from his pocket and laid it on the table. “Call me. I'll find my way out.”

I watched as he nodded to Aunt Jackie and glanced at Greg before he walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the front door. Only when I heard his Hummer start up at the front of the house did I take a breath and slip into one of the chairs.

“I can't believe you turned down almost two million.” Greg sat next to me, his hand now covering my shaking hand.

I laughed—the sound coming out tinny and fake. I'd taken the high road and honored my friendship with Miss Emily instead of taking the money. Principles, they'd bite you every time. “What's a few million dollars?”

A
fter another trip to the hardware store for a stronger latch for the shed door to install the lock on, Greg laid the keys on my table. “Between that new lock and your new fence, someone would have to be pretty determined to get into your shed now.”

I'd been going through boxes of Miss Emily's papers, trying to determine what if anything I needed to keep. “Do you know if dead people have to file taxes?”

“What?”

“I'm going through Miss Emily's files, and I don't want to throw away anything important.”
Please tell me he knows something about this pile of paper
, I prayed.

“You probably should ask Jimmy.” Greg nodded at the refrigerator. “You got a soda in there?”

“On the bottom.” I grabbed my to-do list and put
Call Jimmy
on the top of Monday's list. Twiddling my pen between my fingers, I glanced at Greg's back and quickly added
Go see Crystal
. I needed to put this inheritance thing out of my head so I'd know if I could start making plans for the money that would be sitting in my bank account tomorrow. At least the money that was left after I paid off my credit cards and restocked my savings account from what I'd already spent. If I had to give away the house, I would at least reimburse myself for what I'd already spent.

He plopped down in the chair next to me, popping open the top of the can and tipping his head back to drink. “That chore took longer than I thought. We'll have to visit the puppies next weekend.”

“I'd like to have the fence done before that anyway.”
And figure out if I should keep the house
, I added silently. It wasn't that I didn't love the house. I did. But if Miss Emily had a legitimate heir, besides her scammy nephew and his wife, the estate should go to that heir, no matter what Jimmy Marcum said.

“Where do you want to take me to dinner?” Greg polished off the can of soda in one more gulp.

“I'm taking you to dinner?” I closed my notebook.

“I guess you could cook me dinner, but I'm not sure if you know how.” Greg leaned back in his chair, playing with the keys from the shed lock.

“I can cook.” I didn't know where we got from visiting the puppies to me making dinner for him. “But you saw the fridge. I'm pretty low on supplies right now.”

“So, let's head to Bakerstown. They have a great seafood restaurant.” Greg stood. “And we'll make a stop on the way home and I'll buy you a housewarming gift.”

“I thought the shed lock was my housewarming gift.” Examining my jeans and T-shirt, I deemed them clean enough for a casual dinner.

“Nope, that's so that I don't get called out here on a prowler call when I'd rather be watching football next Sunday.” He smiled. “I'm charging the cost to the city's community safety enforcement account.”

“I'll be sure to thank Mayor Baylor the next time I see him,” I said dryly.

“Why do you have to be hateful? Didn't you ever hear you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth? Besides, you'll like my gift.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me up to a standing position. Standing way too close to him. My heart started racing as he put his hands on my arms. “I hope we'll get a lot of use out of it.” He stared into my eyes and leaned forward.

I closed my eyes. I might be going to hell for this, but at least I could enjoy this one kiss. I waited. Nothing. Then I felt a quick tap on my nose.

“Let's go then. I'm starving.”

I opened my eyes, and Greg was no longer standing in front of me. I turned and saw his nicely formed backside heading out to the front of the house to his pickup.

You read that all wrong
, I chided myself.

Feeling silly, I grabbed my purse off the counter, checked my hair in the hallway mirror, and followed my cop. I tested the lock, making sure it had engaged before I left the porch. If this door stood open when we got back, I could be sure someone had been in the house.

Greg waited in the cab of the truck when I closed the gate. “Door locked?”

“I checked twice.” I threw my purse on the seat and climbed into the truck using the grab bar on the side to pull me upward. “You ever think about adding running boards? I feel like I'm in a semi, we're so high off the ground.”

Greg laughed. “I don't have a lot of passengers.”

“My Jeep is tall, but this is ridiculous.”

“Hey, I'm a big man, what did you think I'd drive, a subcompact? At least in the truck I can stretch out my legs without breaking through the engine compartment.” He headed the truck down the road that would take us to the highway. “Besides, it's not a Hummer like your boyfriend's.”

“Eric Ammond is not my boyfriend.” I thought about the offer I had sitting on my kitchen table. “Why would a developer be willing to wait five years to take possession of a property? It doesn't make sense.”

“He's putting a lot of money on something that won't pay him back for years.” Greg paused. “I don't know a lot about real estate, but I know there has to be a payout somewhere for him, that's just common sense. And I don't see any business in South Cove making that kind of money.”

“I paid a steep price for the building with the shop, but nothing even close to what he's offering for Miss Emily's place.” I watched the landscape pass by the window. Usually I drove even when Amy and I went to town. I missed my friend. Amy would know the reasons behind Eric's offer and why he could wait for the property.

“Have you heard anything about Amy?” I watched Greg's face for any tells that he knew something he didn't want to say.

“She's off the grid, that's for sure. I had a buddy from the bureau run her credit cards, and there was nothing since she bought a dress a month ago at one of the boutiques in South Cove.” Greg shook his head. “The mayor's theory about her being off surfing sounds plausible, except wouldn't you need money on a vacation?”

“Unless you aren't on a vacation.”

“Yeah,” Greg said. We sat in silence for several miles. I watched the seagulls fly and dive over the ocean and thought about my friend out there somewhere, hopefully riding the waves safely on her surfboard—as safe as you could be surfing. A thought crossed my mind. “Greg, have you been to Amy's apartment yet?”

“That's my second stop tomorrow after I see if she shows up for work.” Greg glanced over at me. “Why?”

“If she's surfing, she would have taken her board and gear.” Amy had told me that it had taken her years to find the right board for her. She wouldn't head out for mondo waves without it.

Greg kept silent for a few moments, considering my words. “You're sure she wouldn't just use rental stuff when she got there?”

“Greg, she shipped her board to Australia so she didn't have to use rental stuff. She said it was like cheating on a husband: Once you found a board, that's the one you used.”

“I'll look into it.” His tone of voice changed, and I took his clipped reply to indicate he was done talking about it. But I knew I'd stirred some doubt.

Neither Greg nor I spoke the rest of the drive. I twisted around thoughts about Amy and where she could be if she wasn't surfing. Miss Emily's voice broke through the fog: “No use worrying about tomorrow—there's plenty to keep you busy today.” I laughed at the memory of her sitting in a rocker, shaking her knitting needle at me.

Greg slowed down and turned into the parking lot for the restaurant, Sea Delights. I hoped the food was more creative than the name.

“The food's great here, really.”

I blushed. “I wasn't laughing at the restaurant. I just remembered something Miss Emily told me once.” Great, now he thought I'd second-guessed his choice in eateries. “She always told me not to get tied up in things I couldn't control.”

Greg turned off the truck and leaned back into his seat. “Deal with today's fires and let tomorrow be?”

“Yeah, something like that. One day I sat on her porch complaining about not having someone in my life, about the store, about my family.” I paused. “I guess she got tired of it and told me to stop.”

“My grams used to tell me the same thing. She said there wasn't no point in worrying about something that might never happen.” Greg stared out the truck window. “And I have to agree, I never thought my life would lead me here. A big city cop or a fed, maybe. Not stuck in the same small town where I went to high school—dealing with drunken tourists and bored kids.”

“Believe me, living in the city's not all it's cracked up to be. I couldn't wait to get out and have a second to breathe.” I put my hand on Greg's arm, wanting to comfort him. His arms were steel. I wanted to squeeze and run my hand up and down his shoulder, checking for muscle. Touching Greg felt like holding on to a statue. My body reacted in ways I didn't want to admit.

I pulled my hand away.
Just friends, just friends
—I chanted my new mantra.

“Well, enough of the deep heartfelt confessions, let's eat.” Greg bounded out of the truck and walked over to open my door. “You'll love this place, I promise.”

We entered the dark building, and the smell of homemade bread made my stomach growl loud enough for Greg to hear.

“I told you.” He went up to the hostess stand, where a young woman in a white shirt and blue skirt had just finished taking a phone reservation. When she smiled at us, I gasped. Both Greg and the woman stared at me.

Crystal Dunn stood to greet us.

“Are you all right?” Crystal asked, apparently not recognizing me from my semi-stalking incident from yesterday.

“I'm fine. I mean, I just remembered something.” Greg stared at me while I rambled. “Do you have a restroom?” Dodge and weave, dodge and weave.

She pointed to her right, the restroom sign clearly visible. “Do you want me to wait and seat you when you're back?”

“I'll wait.” Greg appeared concerned.

Great, now he probably thinks I'm about to throw up or something.
“No, go ahead. I'll catch up.” I needed a couple of minutes alone with Crystal to feel her out on the Miss Emily stuff. She didn't look like a killer, although a long shift as a hostess could drive anyone to murder under the right circumstances. I headed to the restroom and waited long enough for Crystal to escort Greg to the table. Thank God the room smelled of pine. I'm not a big fan of public bathrooms, but sometimes a girl has no choice.

I cracked the door and peeked out. Crystal stood alone at the hostess stand. As I headed toward her, she stopped reading from the textbook.

“I'll show you to your table.”

“Actually, can we talk a minute?” I walked closer to the stand, hoping this wasn't a mistake. I tried to peek over the top of the stand to see if she had a knife tucked behind the stand. Nope, just a copy of a child physiology book. She saw me glance at the book.

“I'm taking night classes.” She held the book up. “Are you in Professor Caldwell's class, too?”

Here we go. I took a deep breath. “I'm Jill Gardner, and I own Coffee, Books, and More in South Cove.” I waited to see if any glimpse of recognition of the town crossed her face.

“Why do you want to talk to me?” Crystal seemed confused, not angry or scared.

“I wondered if you knew someone who lived in South Cove, Miss Emily?”

Sadness filled Crystal's face, and she nodded toward the seating near the windows. “Let's sit down. I have a few minutes, the dinner rush hasn't started yet.”

We sat on tan upholstered settees facing each other. I waited for her to continue.

“Let me guess what you think you know. You and that lawyer guy have me all figured out, right? I'm some gold digger trying to con an old lady.” Crystal fought back tears now.

“Jimmy Marcum?”

“He came by my house one day after I had tracked Miss Emily down and left her a picture of Annie.” Crystal's eyes were distant as she watched the traffic pass on the street. “He said he'd investigated me. He called me a fraud.”

“Why do you think Annie is Miss Emily's great-granddaughter?” I put my hand on the young woman's arm, hoping to calm her.

“Because Henry told me she was.”

Totally confused, I asked, “Who's Henry?”

“Henry is . . . was . . . married to Mary, Joshua's mother. Annie's grandmother.”

“So Joshua is Annie's father.” I started to think I needed a program to keep all the names in my head.

“He was killed in a car accident. When she found out, Mary just kept repeating, she'd lost them both. Henry couldn't calm her down at the hospital.”

“Both? Joshua and who?” I needed my notebook to write this stuff down.

“Bob, Joshua's dad. He died in Vietnam before Josh was born, just like what happened to Annie.” Crystal eyed the dining room but I ignored her visual cue.

“And Bob was Miss Emily's son.” I finally tied the pieces together. I glanced at Crystal for confirmation, but she stared past me.

“Sounds like motive to me,” Greg's voice came over my shoulder. He glared at me. The ride home would either be very quiet or I would get my head bit off.

“Greg, this is Crystal Dunn. The woman I told you about?” I'm sure my polite introduction wasn't going to calm the waters now, but I could try.

Greg shook his head. “Jill, why don't you go wait for me at the table. I've ordered an appetizer.”

I felt like I had been caught cheating on a test. “Crystal, if you ever want to talk—” I ignored the glare coming from Greg. She knew where to find me.