Heaven Preserve Us (25 page)

My green eyes sparkled with happiness, and my skin glowed
smooth and tan. My hair, even longer then, fell in snaky curls down
to my waist. I didn't wear a veil, only a single lavender orchid tucked
in among the loose blonde waves.

"You ever think about getting married again?" he asked.

"I ... no, not ... I don't know." What was I supposed to say? Ack!
"Have you eaten yet?" I blurted.

He looked surprised, but answered without protest. "No"

"How about some huevos rancheros?"

Carefully replacing the photo in the box from which he'd taken
it, he nodded. "Sounds excellent."

"Get back in bed. I'll bring it to you."

"You don't need to do that..." But he was moving slowly toward Erin's room.

"Trust me-don't get used to it," I warned over my shoulder.
"This is aberrant behavior for me."

I scrambled eggs and constructed a plate of food while I filled
Meghan in on Ruth's attack. I know, I know-I promised not to
tell anyone. If Ruth had spilled everything she knew about the
man who attacked her, I would've felt a lot guiltier, but she'd practically given me permission by saying she'd deny it anyway. Never
mind that that rationalization might not make sense to anyone
but me.

Keeping the story short, I pointed out that my theory about
Philip being murdered was supported by what Ruth had told me.
Meghan reluctantly agreed. She also said she'd stop by and check
on Thaddeus Black that afternoon on her way to Caladia Acres for
a massage therapy session.

I took a tray up to Barr, who was obediently propped against an
assortment of pillows and stuffed animals. He peered at what I held:
new potatoes roasted brown in a hot oven, covered with chili con
carne, then a layer of eggs scrambled with green onion, topped with
grated cheddar cheese, guacamole and sour cream. A little bowl of
salsa perched on the side in case he wanted some heat first thing in
the morning.

Setting the tray on his lap, he took a swig of orange juice and
dumped all the salsa on his rancheros. I took that as a good sign.

While he worked his way through breakfast, I snagged the occasional bite from his plate and repeated what I'd told Meghan
about Ruth. I assured him that I believed her about denying everything. Ruth had a better poker face than I did, and I bet she could
lie a lot better, too. Of the two of us, she'd be the most convincing.

I was lucky that both Meghan and Barr believed me. Unlike
Meghan, however, he wanted to try and convince Ruth to talk to
Detective Lane.

"She won't do it. You're more than welcome to try, but she's dug
her heels in. Plus," I added, "it would prove I'm not trustworthy."

"You're not."

"Hey-"

"And you shouldn't be, not for this. She should know that."

"She does. That's why she stopped herself from telling me, even
though what happened obviously terrifies her."

"Do you think she knows who the killer is?"

I shook my head. "She's frightened, not stupid. If she could
pinpoint Philip's murderer, she'd broadcast it far and wide." Chewing on a bite of chili beans and egg, I considered. "When will you
check out Kelly's story?"

"I've already called."

I looked at him in surprise.

"What, you think I'm not going to get my butt out of bed just
because you slept in this morning? I've been up for hours."

"Hours-right," I said. "Did I mention I was at the hospital in
the middle of the night?"

He grinned at me. I wrinkled my nose at him. "So what did you
find out?"

"Nothing yet," he said. "I should know more this afternoon."

"When is he supposed to bring over the letter James wrote?"

"Sometime today."

"If we take him at his word, James is our primary suspect,
right?"

"Sophie Mae..."

"I'm just going to drop by Heaven House and have a chat with
Maryjake. You'd think she'd know whether her husband killed her
lover."

"No, you can't-"

"Gosh, should we wait for Detective Lane to do it?"

He glared at me.

"Or maybe you'd like to put your badge in your pocket and go
talk to her yourself."

Anger flashed across his face. "Maybe I will" He put the half-eaten
plate of huevos rancheros on the bed and swung his legs over. Standing quickly, he strode to where I'd hung his clothes in the closet.

"Oh, now, stop that."

He ignored me.

"I'm not driving you"

He ignored that, too.

But when he reached down for his shoes, he stumbled and
nearly fell. I managed to catch him and get him to the bed.

"Dizzy?"

He was breathing as if he'd been running around the block.

"Criminy, I can't believe they let you out of the hospital. Now
stop being so macho and get back in bed. Eat the rest of your breakfast." I marched to the door. "I'm sorry I made you mad, but I was
just making a point: if I don't talk to Maryjake, no one will."

A steady rain melted the snow. It filled the ditches with freezing
water and made everything gray again. The flood plain south of
town would be a glistening sheet of wetness, punctuated by the spears of spent corn stalks. If we were lucky, the rivers wouldn't
climb over their banks.

I had to assume Maryjake herself wasn't the killer. Even in the
dark, Ruth wouldn't have mistaken her for a man, nor could I see
Maryjake beating the older woman black and blue. Still, I'd keep my
mouth shut about the attack on Ruth; I may have broken my promise
by telling Meghan and Barr what I knew, but I wasn't going to endanger Ruth-or Thaddeus-any more by blabbing it far and wide.

Maryjake was ensconced behind her desk at HH as I had hoped,
looking rumpled and sleepy. Her eyes turned wary when she saw
me walk in the door.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey." I glanced around. No one else was in the big room, and
the burgeoning conference room and game rooms were silent.
"Got a minute?"

She looked dubious. "I guess so."

"Good" I pulled the wooden chair that sat next to her desk
around to the opposite side so I could look directly into her eyes.
"Were you having an affair with Philip?"

The blood drained out of her face. It was weird to watch.

"Wh ... what?"

"Listen, Maryjake. I'm not in the greatest mood, and I don't
have time nor inclination to pussyfoot around. Besides, I already
know the answer. I guess the question I should be asking is, how
much did James know about the affair?"

I hadn't thought she could lose any more color, but it turned
out she could.

"The point here is not that I'm a snoop," I continued. "Well,
maybe it is, a little, but it shouldn't be. The point is that someone killed Philip on purpose by giving him botulism, and it could very
well be your husband because you were having an affair with your
boss."

Her swallow was audible. Maybe this whole trying-for-subtlety
thing was a bust. Getting straight to the point seemed to work
perfectly well. I'd have to remember that.

Then her eyes welled up with big, glossy tears that spilled over
onto her cheeks, and she grabbed at my hand lying on the desk
between us.

Crap.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" I asked. "Something
about James?"

She shook her head, sending the saline flying. At least she wasn't
sobbing hysterically. Yet.

"How about the money that's gone missing here at HH?"

"What?" She looked more confused than she had in response
to any question so far.

"What are you hiding?"

She made a little hiccupy sound. "Nothing! I just don't want
James to get in trouble. He was furious when he talked to Philip,
but he wouldn't actually hurt him. He's not that kind of guy."

"When did it start?" I asked. "Between you and Philip?"

She sighed. Sniffled. Reached into her desk drawer and took out
a tissue and blew into it. "James and I were having problems before
I even started working here. Then I met Philip, and it was, like, zing!
I can't describe it. He was sexy and kind and so confident, like he
believed he could do anything. It was irresistible."

Ew.

"I would have left James for him. I told him that. But he said he
wouldn't be responsible for breaking up my marriage. I don't know
how James found out-maybe because I talked about Philip sometimes at home. But James is always thinking that other men are interested in me-kind of the jealous type, you know what I mean?"

Speechless, I nodded. Swallowed. "Are you leaving James now?"
I finally managed to ask.

She looked horrified. "Of course not. I'd be alone then. I don't
want to be alone."

"Ah," I said as noncommittally as I could manage. I felt slightly
nauseated. "What if James was the one who poisoned Philip?"

"That's ridiculous. Huh uh. It was an accident. Ruth is wrong.
They were her beets, and no one did anything to Philip. It was just
a horrible, awful accident. I mean, come on, who would use botulism to kill someone?" Her voice had gained strength the longer
she protested. "Besides, James is a straightforward kind of guy, not
some weird sneak poisoner."

"Did you love Philip? Don't you want to know what really happened?"

"I know what happened," she insisted.

"He was going to get a restraining order. And no matter how
many times you say otherwise, Ruth didn't can the beets that killed
him. Someone orchestrated his death, and he knew who it was." I
paused, searching her face. "And I think you know who it was, too."

Her head swung back and forth. "No. No, it couldn't be my
husband. James was out gathering field data in New Mexico for
two weeks, and he only got home the afternoon of the preserves
exchange. Even if you were right about someone murdering Philip,
and you're not, he couldn't have had anything to do with it."

She stood, grabbed her bag out from under the desk, and began
backing toward the door.

I held out my hand. "Maryjake, wait."

"I've heard enough of this." She turned and fled.

It would be easy enough to find out if James was indeed out of
town until right before Philip died, but he was still at the top of my
list. After all, he could have given Philip those beets before he left.

Right? I sat and toyed with a pen and tried to think of a way to
trap him, ignoring the little voice in the back of my head that said
James was probably innocent.

Jude came out of the newly furnished game room with a
screwdriver in his hands. He looked at me, then down at the tool
as if it were a strange insect. He wasn't exactly the rough and ready
type.

"Where's Maryjake?" he asked.

"She had to go."

"Gosh darn it! Now I don't have anyone to cover the phones.
Can you...?"

"Nope. Sorry." I had way too much work to do at home, and
besides, I wanted to get back and see how Barr had recovered from
his dizzy spell earlier. Never mind figuring out how to check James'
alibi.

"What about Meghan?"

"She's got clients all day," I said.

He threw the screwdriver in a corner, leaving a gouge in the
wall. He came over to the phone and started punching in numbers, presumably forwarding the Heaven House calls to his cell
phone. "I guess I have to do everything myself in this place."

"I'm sorry I can't help you out right now," I said.

"What did you say to Maryjake that made her leave?"

"Nothing," I lied. "She said she had some things to do, is all."
Like go warn her husband that he was a murder suspect.

He took a deep breath and seemed to get himself under control. "I'm sure she'll be back soon. She's very responsible."

"Uh huh," I agreed, gathering my coat up.

"Say, is that offer of your pickup still good?"

"Sure"

"How about tomorrow morning?"

I did some mental juggling. "How long do you think it'll take?"

"Couple hours"

"Just the two of us?"

He shuffled his feet. "I'll get some other people to help. Kelly
should be free. And maybe Bette"

"What about the Chase brothers?" I asked.

"I'd have to pay them," he said. "I was hoping to get over here
on the cheap. Besides, I don't have much stuff, I really don't."

"Okay then. Get some folks together, and we'll get you resettled
tomorrow in the a.m. Say, ten o'clock?"

"Thanks, Sophie Mae"

"Sure. See you later." I raised my hand in farewell.

On the way home I wondered why he hadn't said anything
about calling Ruth to come answer the phones. If he knew she was
in the hospital he would have told me, wouldn't he? Then again, he
hadn't told us Philip was dead that night at the preserves exchange.
Didn't want to upset morale, he'd said. And he knew about my
stalker, so maybe he hadn't wanted to scare me. Probably best not
to put too much stock in his omission.