If the Shoe Kills (14 page)

“I guess. I mean, I was going to wash my hair again, but I could be persuaded to spend some time with you.” I thought about Marie's visit. Dinner would give me some time to get his take on her declaration of innocence.

“Glad you could move me up on your list of chores.” He stood and held out his cup to Toby. “Top that off for me, would you? I've got a stack of reports to get through before I call it a day.”

Toby took the cup, dumped the coffee out into the sink, then filled up a new cup with fresh coffee. “I saw the stack of files. You'll need this.”

I touched Greg's arm. “Hold on a second, I'll walk with you.” I hurried to the back and got my purse, checking my hair in the mirror Jackie had hung on the wall next to the door. The curly mess actually leaned toward cute today, not just messy.

When I returned to the front, Greg and Toby had been talking in low voices. When they heard the door, both stood straighter, leaning away from each other, and the silence seemed to echo. I glanced back and forth. “Something I should know?”

“Work stuff.” Greg took my elbow and guided me to the door. “Later, Toby.”

“Call me if you need help,” I called back. “Or at least before three. After that, I'm getting ready for a hot date.”

“TMI, boss, TMI.” Toby chuckled as Greg and I left the shop.

We headed down the street toward the end of town and my house. We walked in silence for a while, the fall air feeling a little chilly but the sunshine warming my back. The streets still hadn't been decorated. I guess Tina wasn't ready to commit to a theme yet. Typically by the week before Thanksgiving, we were knee-deep in Christmas cheer. Not this year. Darla must be going crazy. I'd have to talk to her tonight when Greg and I visited the winery.

“Tina's in over her head,” Greg said, seeming to read my thoughts.

“I feel sorry for Darla. She lived for the festivals.”

Greg leaned closer. “I hear she's living for someone else nowadays.”

Laughing, I squeezed his hand. “You're a gossip, you know that?”

He shrugged. “I didn't say who told me. Or what they said.”

“It's Matt. He's the one people are talking about, right?” We came up to the front of City Hall and stopped. “Darla deserves some happiness.”

“Well, I hope he's not just being nice. Darla could use some good news in her life.” Greg glanced at the building.

He kissed me on the forehead. “Gotta get back to the investigation. See you at five?”

I turned and headed home, throwing good thoughts into the air for Darla and the new man in her life. By the time I got home, I'd decided that the run I'd considered for the morning would happen that afternoon. When we got to the beach, Emma chased seagulls out of the waves to her heart's content, and after we'd made our rounds, I sat on the sand watching her.

Ted's unfortunate demise circled around my thoughts. Well, not unfortunate for Marie or anyone else who actually had to work with him. I considered Candy Peterson. Was she upset enough about losing her position to kill? That didn't make a bit of sense unless she had a really, really long game. Ted had ousted her years ago. But then again, Ted had still been looking for a missing wife after decades. Maybe people held grudges longer than I could imagine.

I knew one thing, Marie had been scared. I'd seen it in her face the night I'd asked her about Ted at the stained-glass class. And if he scared her that badly after so many years, who else had been afraid of Ted and why?

T
he winery grounds were lit up with tiny white lights. The barn where the stage was set had been decorated in a not quite full-out Christmas theme but more of a holiday party with touches of fall and winter mixed together. Tables were filled with couples and groups both inside the structure and flowing out onto the patio, where a few gas heaters had been set up for the more adventuresome patrons.

Greg escorted me toward a small table in a corner of the barn, one where he could watch the entire show. Once a cop, always a cop, I guessed. But I didn't mind. Greg took his job seriously, and I appreciated him for his dedication, even when he was on my time.

Scanning the room for Darla, I noticed her at the bar with Matt, their heads tipped together as he whispered something in her ear. Even at this distance, I could see the blush on Darla's cheeks deepen. Yep, the girl had it bad.

I moved my attention away from the couple. Somehow it felt like I was eavesdropping on a private conversation even without hearing the words. Many of the town regulars were here tonight. Lille, the owner of the diner, sat at a table with a man I didn't recognize. Her last boyfriend was still in prison on a drug charge. This man appeared a tad more respectable than her usual type, his jeans and T-shirt clean, and he wasn't sporting biker colors. Maybe she'd changed her ways.

Greg brought me a glass of white zinfandel along with a bottle of his favorite brew. He slipped into the chair next to me. “Crowd watching?”

“Do you know who's with Lille?” I inclined my head toward their table.

Greg followed my gaze and narrowed his eyes. “I don't. Want me to find out? You interested?”

I slapped his arm. “I was just wondering if she was dating again. She's been kind of grumpy since Ray went up the ocean.”

He laughed. “I think the term is ‘up the river'. And yes, she has been a bit of a . . .” He paused, seeking out an appropriate word.

“Pain. Witch. Nightmare. Take your choice.” I giggled. Lille was one of those women who lived the old motto, if Mama ain't happy, no one is. I sipped my wine, relaxing into my chair. The band was playing an old ballad, one I'd grown up loving. Couples sprinkled around the dance floor, not worried about who might be watching. A man dipped his partner, sparking a laugh from the woman. The ballroom couple was David and Regina. The two floated around the room like they'd been dancing together for years. No matter what the official story was, the man adored his boss. You could see it in his eyes as he focused only on her.

Greg caught my focus on the dancing couple. He nodded toward them. “You want to dance?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I'm still watching.”

He scanned the couples again, looking confused. “Who?”

Leaning closer so that I wouldn't be overheard, I whispered, “The woman in the fuchsia top and way-too-expensive jeans and the tall man who can't take his eyes off her.”

Greg studied them for a while. “Tourists?”

“Yeah. They've been in the shop a lot this week. He's her driver.” I watched Greg's face. When he didn't show any reaction, I added, “He works for her.”

“And, so?” Greg turned his gaze back to me. “He works for her and they are dancing. In public. No hip grinding in sight. People can do that without being in a relationship.”

“Sometimes for an investigator, you can be kind of clueless.” I sipped my wine, pleased at the slightly sweet taste. I lowered my voice just a touch more. “You should see the way he looks at her. It's like she's a princess or something.”

“Okay, so maybe he has a thing for his boss. She's attractive. Why not?” Greg took a pull off his bottle.

“I'm pretty sure she's married from the rock on her finger.”

“Then she's married and her driver has a crush on her. Even if they are engaging in extracurricular hanky-panky, that's not our business. I'm sure she's not the first wife to stray.” Greg started to take a sip out of the bottle, then paused, holding it halfway up to his lips. “No, make that, I'm
certain
she's not the first wife to stray.”

We didn't talk about Sherry much, but when we did, Greg never had good things to say about his ex-wife. It wasn't like he was mean about it, though. I got the impression he was more hurt than angry. During the last year, even the hurt had started to ease from his voice. Now, he seemed to find the entire marriage ancient history of the worst kind. I held up a finger, but he shook his head at me.

“Not our business, sweetheart. Let's talk about something else. How's the book drive going? Tina seems to think you'll fall flat on your pretty little butt on this one.”

“She does? That woman is a bad seed. She couldn't pull together a community festival to raise money for baby seals. No one likes her.” I stopped talking when I saw Greg grinning. “You tricked me out of talking about Regina and David, didn't you?”

“I know your buttons, darling, what can I say?” He finished off his beer and glanced at my wineglass. “Ready for another? Then we can take a few spins on the floor? I'll even let you pretend you're my boss.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“So you'll call me Mayor Baylor?” I deadpanned.

Greg stood. “Man, you know exactly what to say to kill a mood, don't you?”

I watched him make his way through the tables, stopping to talk to one person, then the next. He could be a politician the way he smoothed through people. When I'd asked him about a political office being in his future, he'd shut me down saying he didn't want the pressure. “Yeah, like being a lead detective on a murder case isn't pressure,” I whispered to Greg's retreating form.

Matt walked across Greg's path, zigzagging through the tables to avoid meeting up with him. Then someone blocked Matt's path. It was the girl from the coffee shop. I watched the two of them exchange a few words, then Matt grabbed her elbow and dragged her toward the doorway. He glanced around the room as they walked out, and our gazes met for a brief second. Then he disappeared out of the door.

“Damn,” I muttered, under my breath. I'd hoped Matt had actually been able to look past the physical and actually like Darla. I guess I'd been too caught up in the romance to actually see the obvious. Matt must be dating the woman who had been hanging out in the coffee shop. Although she seemed way too young for him. And that, of course, led me to my next utterance, “Men are pigs.”

“Uh-oh. What did Greg do now?” Darla put her hand on my shoulder and scooted up a chair to the table.

“What—no, Greg didn't do anything. I was just making a statement about most men.” I glanced around the almost full room and tried to change the subject. “You've got almost a full house.”

Darla followed my gaze. “It's the holiday coming up. People know they're going to be stuck in the house with distant relatives in a couple of weeks and they want to have one last hurrah before the madness begins.”

“The place looks amazing. You've got such a flare for design, I'm surprised you opened the winery instead of an interior design shop.”

Darla blushed again. That was twice tonight I'd seen her face this red. “Honestly, I didn't have the right degree. My folks insisted I get a straight business degree, and well, they started the winery years ago. So I was expected to keep it going.” She paused, deep in thought. Then she shook her head like she was coming out of a dream. “Not that I don't love running the winery. Pipe dreams are just that, puffs of smoke about what could have been.”

“I spent ten years as a lawyer before I woke up and realized I wasn't cut out to do the suit and court thing.” I motioned toward my jeans and silk tank. “Now I only get dressed up for dates.”

“Hey, I should have brought another glass.” Greg set my wine in front of me and kissed Darla on the cheek. “Nice turnout tonight. You must be happy.”

She shrugged. “It's a good band. Matt knows the lead guitarist. He's very handy. I'm not sure what I did without him.”

Greg shot me a look and I knew what he was thinking, but I let that comment slide. “Too bad the guys will be gone at the first of the year. Aunt Jackie's gotten pretty attached to Sasha. I think she likes training someone as much as she likes running the business.”

“Your aunt likes telling people what to do. Me included.” Greg laughed.

Darla looked at me, then at Greg. “Is she pushing you guys to set a date?”

“No.” The word came out a little too emphatic. “I mean, Greg and I haven't even talked about anything like that.”

Greg watched me, amusement tickling his eyes and his lips twitching. “I can see even the thought has you freaking out. I guess I'll have to take the ring back to the jewelers.” He nudged Darla. “Unless you might have use for it.”

Darla slapped his arm. “Stop teasing. I know the rumors flying around. Matt and I are just friends. Besides if you had bought her a ring, everyone in town would already know. Except Jill, of course.”

“He's just kidding you, Darla.” I put my hand on her arm. “Wait, why wouldn't I know?”

“Because, dear, you don't gossip.” Darla stood and squeezed my shoulder. “You two have fun. I've got to go check in with the bar. And find Matt. He was fixing a heater out on the patio, but if it's taking this long, the darn thing's probably done. He never gives up.”

I thought about the girl Matt had ushered out of the winery. Darla would be crushed, no matter that she'd just declared she and Matt were only friends. “Hold on, I'll go with you.”

Greg stood, but I motioned him down. “Save our table, I'll be right back. I want to see if Matt talked to the new program director yet.”

“Her name is Candy,” Greg amended.

I raised my brows. “And that exactly is what I'm having trouble with. What kind of woman goes by the name of Candy after forty? She's definitely not a stripper.”

Greg snorted. “You forget, I've met the lady in question. Sometimes you take this women's lib thing too far. I think Candy's a sweet name.”

“Very funny, big man.” I put my hand on Darla's back and we wove our way through the tables. At least this way if Matt was still talking to that girl, I'd be able to keep Darla from killing him. Or at least try. Maybe I should have let Greg come, too. He could have helped hold her back, giving Matt a chance to run away.

Matt stood at the end of the patio, working on a heater. My shoulders dropped an inch before I saw who was standing next to him, holding a screwdriver. The girl from the coffee shop. When I glanced at Darla, her face told me she'd already seen the two and come up with the same conclusion. Her voice hitched a bit when she said, “He's still working on the heater. I'm probably going to have to break down and head into Bakerstown and buy new ones.”

We kept walking, but now it felt as if our feet were sinking into concrete. Matt turned toward us, a smile growing on his face. “Hey, Darla.” He nodded up at the sputtering heater. “It's not completely up, but it's starting to put out some heat. I need to clean out all the grates tomorrow before we light them up in the evening.”

Darla didn't respond. As the silence grew, Matt's grin faded and he tipped his head, examining her face.

“What's wrong?” He put his tools on the table and put his hand on her arm. Still Darla didn't say a word. He studied me. “Seriously, you guys are scaring me. What's going on?”

I glanced at Darla. This wasn't my story to tell. But at least I could get her some information. I focused on the girl who had started to move backward, away from the gathering. “Hey, you're the tea drinker from the shop. I thought you were just passing through?”

The girl's eyes widened, surprised I'd talked to her or remembered her, I wasn't sure which. She glanced at Matt. “I'm visiting friends.”

“I never did get your name.” I reached out my hand. “I'm Jill Gardner. This is Darla Taylor. She owns the winery. And apparently you know Matt.”

“Becky was part of the job crew a few years ago. When Ted ran the program.” When Matt said his name, Becky cringed. “She's pretty upset over his death.”

Darla glanced back and forth from Matt to Becky. “Oh, you were, I mean, oh.” She paused, then leaned toward me and whispered, “Ted had favorites.”

Becky's eyes narrowed. She stepped away from the group, this time with a purpose. “I've got to go. I'll see you before I leave.” She didn't look at Matt, but it was clear who she was addressing.

“You don't have to leave. Do you want a drink? Or a sandwich?” Darla called after her, but Becky kept walking. She put her hand in the air and waved Darla's words away.

“Wow.” I hadn't ever met someone that angry at the world, especially someone so young.

Matt rubbed his hand over his face. “She's messed up. Ted did a complete number on her. She thought they were in love.”

“But she's just a kid. He must have had twenty years on her.” Darla shook her head. “Where was her mother?”

“Hell, where were the police?” Matt sank into a chair. “You realize she was underage when she and Ted first hooked up. But as usual, nothing stuck with that creep.”

“Sounds like you didn't like him very much.” I watched as Becky stomped down the road to Main Street. I wondered if she truly was staying with friends or if she had made friends with the homeless who liked to hang out at the public beach.

“No one liked Ted. At least no one who knew the creep. I'm glad he's dead. He can't ruin another girl's life this way.” Matt leaned back in his chair and his face froze. I turned to see Greg standing there, his beer in one hand and my wineglass in the other.