Guidebook to Murder (17 page)

As soon as I got in the door, I knew I was too keyed up to sleep. When had my life gotten this crazy? Before Miss Emily's death, my biggest worry had been how much coffee to order or which book to read. Now I juggled construction, worrying about Amy, trying to make the house my home, and now, figuring out how to work with my aunt without killing her or myself in the process. And, oh yeah, trying to solve Miss Emily's murder before my own personal stalker made good on his threats.

At least I didn't have to deal with Greg today. He'd been oddly absent, not even a phone call to check on me. I checked the answering machine I had just set up in the den, no messages. My gut wrenched just a little. I wasn't missing him; I had no claim on the detective. But a message would have been nice.

I powered up my computer, deciding to work on my business plan and how adding a partner would change the goals of the business. I'd already planned out the projections for the coffee shop for the next five years, so it would take a while to rework the document. But having it done would make me feel better.

I headed to the kitchen to put the kettle on to heat. Herbal tea, something calming, definitely not coffee or I'd never get to sleep tonight. While I waited for the kettle to whistle, I noticed the envelope I had thrown on the table that afternoon. Sealed super-tight with a double roll of packing tape surrounding the clasp. I'd need scissors to open that bad boy.

I carried the unopened envelope back to the office with my cup of orange zest tea; probably not the best choice to help me sleep, but I liked it. Digging in the desk drawer, I found the scissors and sliced open the packet. A bundle of letters still in their original envelopes had been banded together with several rubber bands. A single sheet of paper slid out with the bundle.

I'd forgotten that Henry was sending me something. Letters, the only way at the time to communicate between California and the army camps in Vietnam. Letters were a way to stay in touch that wouldn't be erased by deleting a quick e-mail or video chat. As much as I loved my computer, I wondered if I would ever know the joy of getting a letter from someone I loved, being able to pour over its contents time and time again, to feel the paper that he touched, and to know he took the time to share his day.

I quickly sorted through the envelopes and stacked them according to postmark, the oldest one first. Feeling like a voyeur, I folded open the first letter and began to read.

No wonder Mary kept these letters for all these years. And in a way, I was glad Henry never read them. This was a part of Mary that she held private. And I could respect that. Are we destined to be with only one person? Is there a soul mate out there for each of us? I didn't know. What I did know was in all the relationships I had been in, no one had ever moved me the way this letter had tonight. Maybe I settled too easily, wanting love at any cost.

Miss Emily's words from our first chat on the porch came back to me:
“You have to find yourself before you find the one.”

The clock on the computer screen showed it was after midnight. Time to call it a day. I turned off the computer and the downstairs lights. Checking the locks on the front door and the kitchen door, I headed up the stairs, alone. Tonight I wanted a companion. If I was going to follow Miss Emily's advice and find myself, I needed a dog to help me through the long nights waiting for the time to be right to find my Romeo. She'd been a smart woman.

 

The sounds of nail guns and men shouting woke me the next morning.

Just a few more weeks and the construction would be done. I hoped. Today, I was heading back to the home supply store for paint for the living room. I'd stop at the furniture store, as well. The room screamed for new furniture. And after last night, I knew if I didn't spend the money Miss Emily left me, Aunt Jackie was more than willing to take on the task.

Once the living room was done, I'd be moving upstairs. The bathroom on the main floor needed more attention than I and my do-it-yourself remodel skills could provide. And the thought of having a remodel team inside the house as well as outside made my head spin. I'd tackle the bathroom some other time.

I hurried and dressed in capris and a tank, Slipping on my sandals, I grabbed my bag and notebook with the room measurements Derek and I had spent yesterday afternoon getting down. I locked the back door and was just about to walk out the front to my Jeep when a knock on the door surprised me. I swung open the door to find Greg.

“Hey, there you are. I thought you'd given up on protecting me,” I joked. “I'm on my way to Bakerstown. Want to tag along?”

Greg was quiet. Too quiet. “Jill, the tox screens came back from Miss Emily. She was poisoned.”

The weight of his words hung on me. I walked over to the rockers on the porch and sat down, dropping my purse to the wooden slats. “I knew she didn't just die.” Tears fell down my face.

“I'm sorry.” Greg sat down in the rocker next to me. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Doc Ames got the results yesterday, and I've been running between here and Bakerstown since. Miss Emily didn't have any history of heart problems or physical evidence during autopsy. In fact, Doc Ames said she was too healthy to be dead on his table. That's what convinced him to run the tox screen.”

I only half-listened. It was funny that the news was affecting me so hard, since I had been the one to press Greg into looking more deeply into her cause of death. I had known, deep down, I had always known. “So, what happened?”

“She had an extremely high dosage of an herbal supplement called ma huang. Or ephedra. They haven't nailed the exact source down. But the lab guys think it was served in her evening tea.”

“Miss Emily didn't believe in supplements. Called them new wave hooey. I don't think she even took vitamins.”

“I have the entire contents of her medicine cabinet back at the office. We've been going through everything to find a match. So far, nothing.”

“Do you have any leads? Any suspects?”

“I checked out Crystal's alibi yesterday. She was working at the time Miss Emily would have taken the final dose, according to Doc Ames. Her boss confirmed the date and time. And so was her new boyfriend. We've ruled them out.” Greg put his forearms on his legs and leaned forward.

“What about Eric or Bambi or the mayor?” Crystal might have been the number-one suspect on Greg's list, but she had already been removed from mine. “Where were they?”

“We're checking their stories, but right now, I need to ask you to come with me.” Greg held out his hand.

“Come with you where?” I didn't like the sound of this. “I have to get to Bakerstown and pick up the paint for the living room.”

“You have to come down to City Hall and answer a few questions.” Greg's face contorted. “Look, it's not my decision. Mayor Baylor threatened to turn the investigation over to the state cops if I don't bring you in.”

Anger flooded my body. “Really? You and your friend the mayor think I killed Miss Emily? Someone you didn't even know existed before she wound up dead and ruined your weekend fishing trip?”

“Don't make this hard.” Greg's voice got cold.

I stared up at him. I suspected he was mad. But I didn't care. Rather than find out who killed Miss Emily, he was dragging me down to the station for questioning. I slung my purse over my shoulder. My eyes welled with tears. I couldn't believe this was even happening. I motioned for him to leave and I'd follow. I didn't trust my voice.

“You'll be done in no time. And then this stupid idea that you killed her will be put to rest.” Greg put his hand on my back as we walked to his truck.

I wasn't sure that this would ever be done. Innocent people went to jail all the time.

M
y first thought was I should call Jimmy Marcum and have him meet me at the police station. My second thought was how much I hated Greg King right now.

Greg opened the truck door and helped me in. “Seriously, Jill, it's going to be all right. Don't look so scared.”

I wasn't going to talk until we got to the station.

I wanted some sort of record of my words so I could have proof I didn't confess. I couldn't believe Greg would do this to me. After all the time we spent together, he was still a cop. And I was his suspect.

Greg kept glancing at me while we drove. Finally he gave up trying to say anything and turned up the music.

When we reached City Hall, I got out of the truck on my own and headed to the side door, where the police office was located.

“Hold on, we're going in here.” Greg pointed to the front doors that led directly to the mayor's office. I hadn't been there since Amy had disappeared. Bambi sat at Amy's desk, reading the most recent
Smithsonian
magazine.

“Hey, it's the coffee lady.” Bambi tucked the magazine under a copy of
Vogue
. Proper office attire for Bambi seemed to be a low-cut passion pink jumper with leopard print stiletto heels. I wouldn't be surprised if the shoes had been real leopard skin. “Your aunt's ordering supplements just for my lattes. I can't wait until we get back to civilization.”

“We have an appointment to see the mayor,” Greg announced. “Is he ready?”

“You know that Esmeralda always gets the first appointment of the day. I'm sure they'll be done soon.” Bambi scanned Greg's body like it was a three-course dinner. “Now, don't you look especially yummy today? When are you going to come over to the hotel and see me?”

Greg glanced at me and shifted his shoulders. “That's not going to happen.”

“Why not, sugar pie?” Bambi broke off a piece of blueberry muffin and hand-fed it to Precious, who sat on top of Amy's desk. When Amy got back, if she came back, she would have to disinfect this entire office. Greg's face turned beet red.

“Yeah, why not?” I chided. From the casualness of their banter, Greg and Bambi had been spending some quality time together. My gut tightened.

“Because I don't want to become shark bait if your boyfriend found out.” He glanced at me. “I'm kind of seeing someone anyway.”

“Well, isn't that a shame. Any time you change your mind, though, you just let Bambi know. I bet we'd have a real good time.” The sound of the mayor's office door opening cut off Bambi's offer of companionship and other things.

Esmeralda floated out of the office, her black cat cuddled in her arms. City Hall was becoming pet central. The fortune-teller stopped short when she saw me. “Jill, my dear, how have you been? Oh, that was a silly question coming from me. I see you're with your match.” She pointed toward Greg.

“What do you mean, my match?”

Esmeralda put her free hand on my arm. “Trust in the process. The sun will rise tomorrow. And you will be happy. I've seen this in my visions.”

The sun will rise tomorrow? What was she now, a weather girl? “Well, thanks, I guess. We have to go now.” I shot a pleading look at Greg, and he took my arm.

“The mayor's waiting for us.” He walked me into the office and closed the door. Just before the door closed, I heard Bambi ask if Esmeralda could do a reading for Precious.

His chair was turned, and the mayor talked to someone on the phone. I could overhear his part of the conversation as Greg motioned for me to sit down.

“She just left.” The mayor paused. “No, she didn't give me any more direction. She just said the winds of change were about to run through our lives.”

Greg took the chair next to me. I pointed to the mayor and raised my shoulders, silently asking what was going on. Greg just shook his head.

“How the heck am I supposed to know? Honey, look, I've got people here. I've got to go.” The mayor turned the chair around and hung up his phone. He glared at Greg.

“Bambi told us to come in,” Greg apologized. “Should we come back later?”

“No, it's fine. That girl has no business sense. I'll be glad when Amy's back.” The mayor fingered through the files on his desk.

Hope shot through my body. Maybe this was why he wanted to see me. “Have you heard from Amy? Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Oh, I was just making a comment. I'm sure Miss Newman is fine and will be returning to her job at any moment. At least I hope so. I don't know how much more of Bambi's attitude I can take.” He leaned forward on his desk. “Did you know not only does she bring that mangy mutt into the office, she takes him for five walks a day? Five! Who does she think answers the phone when she's not at the desk? Me. That's who.”

I didn't know what to say after that. I sank back into my chair, hoping that Amy was off on some cruise or vacation somewhere. I missed having someone to talk to, especially now that Greg had gone all police detective commando on me. Maybe a cloud of radioactive gas had hit the town and was slowly turning people into comic book characters of themselves. We already had a Malibu Barbie answering phones at City Hall. But to be fair, I was pretty sure Bambi had been that way for her entire life.

“Back to business. I wanted to clear up this art theft ring. Now that we've determined that Miss Emily was murdered, we have to find her killer. The City of South Cove doesn't take kindly to one of our own being murdered in her own bed. It's just not good for the tourist trade.” The mayor twirled a pen in his hand.

“And why did you need to see me?” I managed politely through gritted teeth. He was thinking about the town's image? I tried to control my rage, but every time I talked to the little weasel, I got angry.

“We have a visitor from the city coming in. I wanted him to meet you.” The mayor buzzed Bambi. “Ask Mr. Hunter to come in now, please.”

“All righty then. And just to let you know, Precious and I are stepping out for a second.” Bambi's chipper voice came over the intercom.

“See what I mean?” He nodded to Greg. “This will happen all day long. Maybe Esmeralda could help with phone duties?”

“Sir, Esmeralda is swamped—” Greg started but was interrupted by the door opening.

“We'll talk about this later.” The mayor waved his hand at Greg, quieting him. “Mr. Hunter, please come in.”

I turned to look at the new arrival to Circus City Hall. He was tall, dark, and handsome, and he knew it. His clothes were California casual, pricey but appeared to be just thrown together. I'd dated a real estate developer who had the same style, so I knew the man raked in some serious dough to pull off looking that laid-back.

“Mayor Baylor, I still don't understand what was so important that I had to drive all the way down here so early in the morning.” The man pushed his sunglasses farther up on his head and adjusted the sweater tied around his neck before he sat down.

“Introductions first. John Paul Hunter, this is Greg King, our police detective.”

“Nice to meet you.” Greg stood and reached over me to shake hands.

“And this is . . .” The mayor pointed at me and waited.

For a few seconds, no one said anything. Then Mr. Hunter spoke up.

“This is who? I've told you, I'm a busy man. If you want me to meet these people for some reason, please let's get on with it. I'm opening a new show this weekend.”

“I thought you might know her.”

“Why would I know her?” The man almost sneered at my outfit. Now, I admit, it wasn't couture, but it was clean and comfortable. At least I'd finished laundry last night and it wasn't the little black dress. I was headed out shopping when Greg had ambushed me into this meeting.

“This isn't the woman who sold you the paintings? The ones we talked about?” Mayor Baylor's face fell. “Look again. Are you sure? This is Jill Gardner.”

“Look, Mayor, I told you I've never seen this woman before. And if you remember, I distinctly told you over the phone that the woman who sold me the paintings was quite overweight.”

“She's fat.” Mayor Baylor pointed his finger at me.

“Hey, I'm not fat. I'm not a size one like Malibu Bambi out there, but I'm not fat. I'm curvy.” My face felt hot. I'd been pleased when I checked myself out in the mirror this morning, seeing the results of losing weight since my world went topsy-turvy. Perfect weight-loss diet: turn everything on its ear and you'll be too upset to eat.

The mayor had a way of getting down to the core of my insecurities. I'd never left this office feeling anything more positive than annoyance. I wondered how he managed to get elected year after year. It couldn't be on charm.

“Seriously, you thought Jill was the one selling Miss Emily's artwork?” Greg stood up. “This is why you had me drag her down here?”

“Well, yes.” Mayor Baylor sneered. “She fit the description of the woman, and you know the city is committed to finding Miss Emily's killer. And now she has full access to all the paintings she wants to sell.”

“And if it gets me out of that house so your friends can finish the little development they have planned for my home, more the better, right?” I stood and glanced at Greg. “Are we done here? I have work to do.”

“Wait, you have the rest of the paintings? Can I see them? I've got several buyers who are interested in acquiring anything she did. Especially now that she's deceased.” John Paul's eyes gleamed as he leaned closer to me. Apparently my lack of fashion sense had been forgiven now that I had become important to him.

“I'm not sure what I'm doing with the paintings yet. But I would like to see what you still have at the gallery and pictures of what you've already sold.” I wanted to gauge the value of the artwork. I didn't know if John Paul Hunter's gallery deserved to sell the rest of the lot. He'd been selling the stolen paintings for months before we accidentally found them.

“Call me any time and I'll be glad to drive down and give you an estimate. I'll have my assistant send you a portfolio of the paintings we've handled so far. I assure you, we've been very successful in procuring high-dollar amounts for the sales.” John Paul handed me a card embossed with
Hunter Gallery
.

“Have your assistant send that portfolio thing to me. What exactly did you do with the artist's share of those funds?” Greg moved in between the two of us.

“As I told the officer who came to interview me, the woman came by weekly to pick up the funds from any sales.”

“The checks were made out to what name?”

John Paul glanced around the room, his eyes landing on Greg sizing up the effect his next words would have. “I gave her cash.”

“You what? Isn't it standard bookkeeping procedure to use checks to track sales and purchases? Did you get a receipt?”

Now the man was sweating. Literally. I wondered what other shady deals we would find if someone opened the books on this guy.

“Look, she told me she needed the money. Artists are always strapped for cash. So I discounted her cut by a little and fronted the cash. All galleries do it.” John Paul played with the tie in his sweater.

“So there is no paper trail for these paintings. Please tell me that your shop has a video security system.”

“We do. Except it doesn't work right now. I planned on having it fixed, but the fact that it's there, well, that works just as well.”

“Unless a crime really happens.” Greg glanced at me. “I'm going to need to talk with Mr. Hunter for a few more minutes. Do you want to wait and I'll drive you home?”

“I can walk. Besides, I need to stop by the coffee shop and check in with my aunt.” I wasn't hanging around City Hall with Bambi and the mayor any longer than I had to.

“You will call me, though, right?” John Paul called after me as I headed to the door.

“Miss Gardner, I'm not done with you,” Mayor Baylor's voice chimed in.

“Yes, you are,” Greg growled. He nodded toward me. “I'll stop by tonight.”

I took that for permission to leave before the mayor opened his mouth again. Glancing around the empty reception area, I realized that Bambi was still outside with Precious. Sadness filled my body as I touched Amy's desk. I glanced at the closed door of the mayor's office and the glass door outside—nobody was in sight.

I slipped into Amy's chair and pulled open the side drawer. Bambi had filled this one with dog biscuits, toys, and a book on California history. The second drawer had makeup and more brushes, combs, and hair clips than I'd owned in my entire life.

The bottom drawer had Amy's possessions crammed inside. Bambi apparently needed the room for more important stuff. My friend's life was reduced to this one drawer. I moved past the framed pictures of Amy and her surfing friends and only paused a second when I found the one of the two of us at last year's Renaissance Faire, decked out in medieval costumes. Amy's smile twisted my heart.

Digging deeper, I found her day planner. Bingo. I heard voices from the mayor's office coming closer to the door. Slamming the drawer shut, I stuffed the day planner to the bottom of my purse and sprinted for the door. Watching behind me for the office door to open, I ran straight into Bambi leading Precious back into the office.

“Hey, watch it.” Bambi teetered on stacked stilettos. Precious growled.

“Sorry,” I called back. I wasn't stopping until I could lock myself up in the supply closet at Coffee, Books, and More and see what I could find in Amy's planner.