If the Shoe Kills (19 page)

Opening the door, I realized I'd left Emma inside that morning. To pass the time, she'd decided to tear up not one but both of the throw pillows I'd purchased last month as my offering to the home décor gods. I shook a pile of fluff at her. “Bad Emma.”

She ran to the back door and whined.

“Fine, but we will talk about this.” I opened the back door and she bounded off the porch, chasing the birds out of the yard.

I opened the fridge and pulled out a soda. I glanced at the wine, but I hadn't eaten all day so regretfully I passed on the opportunity. I sank into a chair at the kitchen table to read the mail. Bill, bill, junk, another bill, and an envelope from the historical society. I ripped open the last envelope. I hadn't heard from Frank Gleason in months. But he'd warned me that the certification process was glacially slow. And he'd been optimistic.

I read the letter twice before I realized it was a
just checking in
letter. Nothing had been decided, but I was to rest assured that they were working diligently on my request for certification. If they'd worked the half hour on my certification rather than sending me this dumb letter, I would have been more assured.

Then I checked my e-mail. Two for two. The alumni representative had responded to my e-mail but had shut me down for information. Official requests were handled through the college press office.

I picked up the phone and called Elite Investigations again. This time my call was answered by a deep-voiced man. “Is Rachel there?”

“Sorry, there's no one here by that name.” He put on his sales voice. “Can I help you with something?”

I took a deep breath and launched. “I'm trying to follow up on a client you had six years ago? He had you looking into a missing person case?”

The line was quiet. “If Rachel was the one handling his case, I'm sorry, her files would have left with her. We don't talk about clients or their requests over the phone.”

“I don't know that Rachel was the investigator. I mean, I used to work with her, we were friends.” I threw that out, just for a bit of sympathy.

The man laughed. “If you were truly friends, you would have known she was gone. Sorry I couldn't help you.”

Then he hung up. Strike three for the day.

I glanced at the fridge. Maybe I still had some of Sadie's chocolate silk pie. Sounded like a perfect dinner to me. I'd almost caved when I heard a knock on the front door.

“Why isn't this locked? And what the heck happened in here?” Greg's voice boomed through the living room.

“I just got home and Emma's been busy,” I called back. Sometimes having a police detective for a boyfriend was a royal pain. Like right now, I thought, sad to abandon the idea of pie for dinner. “I'm in the kitchen.”

He walked in with a pizza box from Little Godfathers and a bag of bread sticks. I forgave him any transgression on the spot. “Hey, I took a drive this afternoon and decided to bring back dinner. You hungry?”

“I'm starving. What a day.” I grabbed some plates from the cabinet and stopped at the fridge for a soda for Greg. Emma stood outside the door, looking in the screen and licking her lips. “You can just stay out there. I'm still mad at you.”

Greg chuckled and opened the pizza box. The smell of thick pan crust and kitchen sink toppings filled the small kitchen. He served two slices onto each plate, then sank into a chair. Neither one of us said another word until we'd finished our first slice.

“Bread stick?” He held up the bag.

I nodded. One of the reasons we got along together as well as we did was that we both had a touch of the emotional eater in us. Tomorrow I'd run on the beach with Emma to burn off my calories. Greg would forgo his afternoon candy bar and be fine. I hated him sometimes.

As I dipped the bread stick into the marinara, I broached the subject. “Bad day?”

Greg groaned and pushed away his empty plate. “Well, since I thought we had a real lead with David until his team of lawyers swooped in to explain it all away, yeah, I'd say a bad day.”

“I ran into them on the way out of City Hall. Literally.” I thought about the celebration at the winery that was probably still going on. “I didn't know the mayor knew Regina's family.”

“Apparently he and her brother were in the same fraternity. Different campuses, different states, miles apart, but frat blood runs deep. Even years later.”

Well, that explained the mayor's arrival at the winery. I wondered if Greg knew that while he was driving around blowing off steam, the other group was celebrating. I wasn't going to be the one to mention it.

He threw a piece of pizza crust out on the porch for Emma and grabbed a trash bag out from under the sink. “You do the dishes, I'll clean up Emma's disaster, and then we'll go grab a beer.”

“That little place down the coast with the deck?” I offered an alternative besides the winery.

“Perfect.” He smiled and for a second, I felt bad not telling him about my day. But he didn't need more bad news, not yet.

We were in the truck when his phone rang.

“Hey, Esmeralda, I'm off the clock.” He listened, and then instead of turning left out of town from my driveway, he turned right. “I'll be right there.”

I groaned. “Problems?”

“There's been a fight at the winery. Regina is in tears and asking for you.” He studied me. “Something you want to tell me?”

I shrugged. “I barely know the woman. Why would she ask for me?”

Greg focused on the road ahead. “That's the question, isn't it?”

“Y
ou're not making this about me, are you?” Even though we'd just eaten, my grumpy mood hadn't passed. “I can't help it if people like to talk to me.”

Greg snorted, his gaze focused on the road. He didn't even look my way.

“Seriously, this is not my fault.” I crossed my arms and stared out the truck window, watching people leave Diamond Lille's, one of the few places on Main Street still open. Even the bookstore would be shutting down by nine. Saturday nights we stayed open a little later for the increased foot traffic.

“I never said this was your fault,” he said. “It's just when things go bad, you're usually in the mix of things. That's one thing I can always count on, you being involved, somehow.”

“I didn't kill Ted. I didn't start whatever fight is going on at the winery. I didn't even yell at our mayor today when he dumped another problem in my lap. I don't know what you're talking about.” I listed off all the things I hadn't done today.

“Whatever. You know you tend to stick your nose in places it doesn't belong. And now, you and my murder suspect's boss are besties? What are the odds?” Greg turned off the engine and without saying another word, left the truck and headed to the winery tasting room.

I debated staying inside the truck until I wasn't so fired up, but I thought that might take all night. Besides, I was curious about why Regina needed to talk to me. Greg stopped at the winery door and turned to look at me, obviously waiting for me to join him. Unsnapping my seat belt, I had the sinking feeling that this discussion with him about my tendency to investigate issues wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

As I met him at the door, he leaned down and gave me a quick kiss. “Sorry. I've had a bad day and took it out on you.”

His words almost drew tears to my eyes, but I tried to take the casual approach instead of breaking down into a sobbing mess, my typical reaction after a fight. “Same back at you.”

He swung the door open and we walked in. The music had been turned off and instead of the festive atmosphere that had been running through the room when I left, now the entire area felt guarded and wary. Regina sat at the same table she'd been earlier that afternoon along with Dean and David. The other suits seemed to have left except maybe one or two who looked less like their attorney attaché and more like bodyguards based on their build.

Toby was standing talking to Darla and Matt over by the bar. I noticed Regina kept her gaze on Matt. I followed Greg over to Toby and the others.

“What's going on?” Greg looked at his deputy.

Toby held out a watch. “This is what started it all.”

Greg raised his eyebrows. “I don't understand. Someone lost their watch?”

“That watch was a gift. And not from Ted. That woman's just freaking out,” Matt babbled and tried to stand. Toby eased him back into his chair with one hand.

“Slow down, slugger. We're not accusing you of anything.” Toby and Greg exchanged a glance over Matt's head. “Who gave you the watch?”

“That girl you met the other night, Becky. I gave her some money for food, and she gave me the watch. I didn't ask her to give it to me, she just did. She's pretty proud at times and stubborn when she doesn't want to be seen as a bother.” Matt sighed. “I thought I was doing a good thing.”

“Oh honey, you were. Don't let this upset you. I'm sure it's just a big mistake.” Darla spat out the last words like she knew exactly whose mistake this had been and Greg better take care of the issue.

“Jill, Jill, come over here. I need to tell you something,” Regina called to me from the middle of the room.

I glanced at Greg, who nodded. I didn't know if we were in the middle of a crime scene or what, so I wanted to follow his lead. “I'll be right back,” I said to Darla, who glared at me, obviously thinking I was taking sides.

Regina took my arm as soon as I got close and pulled me into a chair next to her. “It's been such a trying day. I mean, with David and now with that horrible man. I seriously am going to need counseling after this vacation.”

“I'm sorry things have been rough for you. But I don't understand. What did Matt do?” I peeked back at the group still surrounding Darla. Now the words flying were getting hotter and their voices were higher.

“That man had Ted's watch. The one I gave him for his thirtieth. I spent over five grand for that watch. No way would he give it away.”

I considered her words. “Wait, you knew Ted?”

Regina put her hand on mine. “I know I should have told you, but you were being so nice. And I didn't want you to think of me differently.”

Realization dawned on me. “You were trying to find out who killed Ted. Or were you trying to find out if I killed him?”

“No.” Regina paused, then went on. “Well, maybe not after I'd met you. You're such a wonderful person, I knew after I talked to you the first time that you couldn't kill my boy.”

Her words sank in. After all our speculation on why no one had come from the family, we'd been wrong. They had been here all along, just incognito. “You're Ted's mother.” I didn't mean it as a question, but Regina nodded in response.

Dean broke into our conversation. “Regina, we're going to dinner now. You've been drinking all afternoon. You need some food.”

“I couldn't eat. You guys go ahead without me.” Regina stared over my shoulder at Matt.

I stood and pulled her to her feet. “Go eat. I'll find out what's going on.”

Regina looked at me with tears in her eyes. “You'd do that for me? Even after I lied to you?”

“You didn't lie, you just didn't tell me everything. Right?” I traded places with Dean exchanging looks as we transferred his sister from me to him. Regina was three sheets to the wind for sure.

“I guess that's true. So you don't hate me?” Regina pulled me into a hug. “I love your little shop and our talks.”

Dean pulled her away from me and started walking her toward the door. He glanced back at Greg. “I guess since the po-po are here, I can't ask you to dinner without getting arrested, right?”

“Greg wouldn't arrest you for asking me to dinner. And who over twenty calls the police the po-po?” I focused on Regina. “I'll see you later.”

Dean leaned into me and whispered in my ear, “He would arrest me if he could read my mind right now.”

I watched as the group left to find an open restaurant. Then I turned back to find Greg watching me. Great, now I had to explain Dean's attention. But first, I had to figure out what Matt knew about the watch that a mother had given her son. What had I said that morning? One disaster at a time?

“Interesting friends you have there,” Greg drawled as I walked back to the group.

I rolled my eyes. “Not my friends, just people I know.” I amended that statement, “Or, in some cases, people I just met today.” I focused back on Matt. “So, this girl gave you the watch, just because?”

“What do you mean by that?” Darla growled. “You think Matt and this girl are dating or something?”

I put my hands up in front of me in a defensive stance. “Don't go all psycho on me. All I was trying to do was figure out how Matt got a hold of Ted's watch.”

Matt shuffled in his seat. He put his hand on Darla's. “Darling, let it be. These two are trying to help. You don't bite the hand that's trying to feed you.”

Darla harrumphed, clearly not impressed with the analogy. She turned and started stacking clean glasses.

Matt grinned as he watched her and for a second, I felt like I was interrupting a very intimate conversation. Then he turned the smile on me and I realized how charismatic this man could be at times. Maybe enough to convince a young girl to kill a potential rival? My blood ran cold at the thought. “Like I said, I took Becky some food one day. She'd approached me for money on my first trip into South Cove. I didn't realize she was even living here. I thought the family lawyer had set her up in a house in Oregon.”

“Why? What did she have on Ted?”

His smile was sadder this time. “A child. Ted got his underage girlfriend pregnant, and the family sent her away with a ton of cash to give up the baby to the foster care system.”

“And she didn't want to leave,” I added.

“Sad, isn't it? Just think about what an effect that could have on a young girl's mind. I swear, Becky's gone over the edge. And I'm not sure she'll come back.”

“You said the family sent her away. How do you know that?” I didn't believe Regina could be that cruel, even to protect a sleazebag son.

“Becky told me. She and I kind of got to know each other during the work program.” He glanced at Darla, who had transitioned from stacking glasses to folding napkins. “We didn't date or anything, but we both smoked, so we had lots of time to talk. I worried when I saw Ted taking an interest in her. She didn't have family, lived with a distant relative, I don't know, a cousin or something who didn't care if she came home or not.”

“So when Ted turned on the charm, she fell.” I sighed.

“Like jumping off a cliff. She kept telling me he'd come for her. As soon as he could get one thing settled, he would be free to be with her.” Matt shook his head. “I don't know what he thought he was doing, promising something like that.”

My thoughts raced. Was the one thing he needed settled getting even with Marie? And had she known she was in danger? All lines of investigation kept running back to Marie, the vanished wife.

Toby finished his paperwork and had Matt sign the report. He put the watch into a baggie and handed it to Greg. “We'll be keeping this until we determine its rightful owner.”

“Keep it forever. I don't care.” Matt glanced over toward the table where Regina had sat. “Maybe, though, you should give it to his mom. She seems to need it more than I do.”

Toby turned his attention to me. “Thanks for coming down and talking to the woman. She was getting a touch hysterical before you showed up.”

“She's been trying to solve Ted's murder all on her own. That's why she's in town.” I leaned into Greg. “I just wish she would have told someone. Well, besides David. She must have told him.”

Stepping back, I narrowed my eyes at Greg. “What exactly did David tell you? Did he mention why they were here in town, that Regina was Ted's mother?”

“He didn't say a word about that.” Greg shook his head. “He admitted he gave the gun to his niece right before she moved out to California. He'd hoped she'd be a little safer with the gun than without. Now, he's pretty sure she pawned it. I've got Esmeralda trying to track down where the gun was bought.”

His words led me to believe there was more to the story about what David had said, but that he didn't want to talk here. I guess I couldn't blame him. Matt was as much of a possible suspect as David was. Matt had a possession of the deceased's. Whereas David had owned the weapon that killed him.

As Alice would say, things were looking “curiouser and curiouser.”

When we'd returned to the truck and had turned off Main Street, passing by my house and onto the highway, Greg finally spoke. “Let's go get that beer now.”

“Can you tell me what else David said?” I watched his face for any telltale signs. Greg could lie, but he didn't like to, so his face showed his distaste for the action when he did.

He slowed down for a school bus turned RV that was blocking the lane. He glanced around the slow vehicle and then sped around it, going over the posted speed limit. Not a normal action for the local police detective, but I'd noticed that when he was upset, his driving became a bit riskier. An old Heart song made into a ringtone sounded on his phone and he shook his head, hitting the Bluetooth in his ear. “What do you want now?”

I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, except to know it was a female. And if I read Greg's mood right, it had to be Sherry. I tried to make eye contact, but he waved me away.

“No, I can't come over and talk about us. I'm busy.” He rolled his eyes and reached over to grab my hand. “What am I doing? I'm on a date with my girlfriend. You know, you've met her, Jill. The one you tried to throw under the Mayor Baylor bus?”

Well, that was pretty direct. And honestly, it made me giggle, just a bit. My shoulders dropped and I watched the ocean view, trying to tune out the mini argument going on with Greg and Sherry.

“Stop calling me. If I need something from you, I know how to reach you.” Greg clicked off the call. He squeezed my hand and sighed. “Sorry about that. She's been calling all day. Needing my help with one thing or the other.”

“She wants to get back together?” I turned to watch him.

He nodded. “Something has triggered her need to own me again. I know it's not love. I've ridden that particular carnival ride too many times already. No way am I climbing back on board. I'd have Toby shoot me first.”

“You sure there aren't feelings there?” I might be shooting myself in the foot if I didn't just stop talking.

Greg paused, slowing the truck to turn into the bar's parking lot. There was a line of cars coming the other way, so it took a few minutes to get off the road. When he found a spot big enough for the truck, he shut off the engine, pulled his keys, then turned toward me. “We were young. I thought it was love, I really did. The guys thought I'd won the lottery getting Sherry to say yes. Now, I'm not so sure. I know she didn't and doesn't love me. I just wonder if I ever loved her.”