If the Shoe Kills (21 page)

Darla threw a five at me for the drink, then climbed off the stool. She looked at the two of us with pain in her eyes. “I know what I know. Matt's not interested in me. Why would he pick me when that young girl keeps throwing herself at him? He'd be a fool.”

She started to turn away, but I reached over and grabbed her arm. “Darla, he'd be a fool not to pick you. You're an amazing woman. You own your own business, you're funny, you're intelligent, and if he can't see what a catch you are, he doesn't deserve you.”

She bit her lip. “But I'm . . .” She paused, not able to say the word.

“Physical attributes don't make you who you are. All that can change for the better or worse. You need someone who falls in love with your essence, not your body.” Amy smiled. “Believe me, I've been with someone who only saw me as a hot body. Remember Hank?”

Darla giggled. “That man was a piece of work. I thought Jill was going to kill him or send you to a clinic to get un-brainwashed.”

I was happy to see Darla laugh, but deep inside, I knew it would take more than some girl talk for her to be happy with herself. I hoped Matt didn't cause any more problems with her self-esteem than she already had.

I watched her walk out the door and greet Toby on his way in.

Amy sighed. “You think even some of that got through?”

I shook my head. “Let's hope Becky disappears and Matt is as good of a guy as we're hoping. Otherwise, Darla's going to hold a grudge for a long time.”

Toby shoved some papers at me. “And thank you.”

Confused, I glanced down at the packet. It was Josh's forms for Work Today. I checked my watch, eleven thirty. “How did you get these?”

Toby hung his coat up on the wall in the back room, holding the door open with his foot. “The guy ran me down as I was walking past his shop. I don't know what your aunt sees in him. Josh is a tad on the creepy side.”

Doing a short happy dance since the paperwork was done, I grinned. “One, I didn't think Josh can run, but two, yay!”

Amy smiled. “So we're good?”

“We are. I'm going to Bakerstown tomorrow and dropping these off. You want to go with me?” I unfolded a crease in the top page.

“You forget most of the world works on Mondays. Not that we enjoy it.” Amy hopped off the stool. “Since Toby's here, can we go grab lunch at Lille's? Your treat, of course.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, but yeah, we can.” I headed to the back room to gather the rest of the packets, shove them in my tote, and grab my jacket. When I returned, Amy was checking her voice mail on her phone. I updated Toby on what had been done for prep work. “Thanks for bringing those with you. I wasn't looking forward to coming back into town this afternoon.”

Toby shrugged. “Like I said, he tracked me down. He said he was closing early so he could get some sleep. Then I got a lecture about how we need an animal control unit for the police department.”

“One thing about Josh, when he gets an idea in his head, he's relentless.”

Toby filled a glass with water and drank about half in one gulp. “That's just the thing. He said the cats were keeping him awake at night. I think his interest is purely personal, rather than being a good idea for the town.”

I thought about Josh's cat problem. I hadn't seen a loose feline in months. In the city, there was a small alley on my walk to work where someone had started feeding one cat, and now, it was filled with new residents. I was going to stop and chat on our way to the diner, but Antiques by Thomas was already shut down, a sign on the door saying they'd reopen on Wednesday. Josh spent his off days searching out flea markets and garage sales for pieces to add to his inventory. Jackie had been going with him on Mondays when the shop was closed, but now that they were on the outs, my aunt might be showing up on my doorstep more often.

I wanted to say the thought didn't make me sigh.

M
onday morning, I woke with the sun. Emma and I ran. I completed two loads of laundry and a shopping list for my trip to Bakerstown and made a quick omelet for breakfast. And yet it was still too early to take the drive. I curled up on the couch with a new memoir I'd been intrigued with when one of my customers ordered the book. I find a lot of my new favorite authors that way, by indirect referrals.

The week would be busy. Saturday was our Christmas Tales party for the center. Jackie had invited the entire town to celebrate the arrival of Santa in South Cove. Except no one had taken on the task of getting the town ready for the festival. If I didn't find someone or talk Darla into putting aside her hurt feelings and taking it back over, I'd be stuck doing the entire thing by myself. And decorating was not my forte.

I ruefully glanced at the old pillows I'd pulled out of the office to replace the two that Emma had used as chew toys. I made a mental note to check out a couple stores for new pillows while I was in town.

An hour later, Emma barked and I heard a knock on my front door. I put a bookmark in the book and stood, stretching. I hadn't planned on reading quite that long, but the story of the country singer gone bad then redeemed had caught my attention and I'd just wanted one more chapter. And then another.

I swung open the door and there stood Esmeralda, with a basket. My thoughts went to the old fairy tale of the witch arriving with a poisoned apple. I pushed away the vision.

“Hey, Jill. I was on my way to work and thought I'd bring these over now. I baked all weekend.” She reached over and uncovered baggies filled with cookies and candies. I picked one up, my stomach growling at the sight of the variety of treats in a Christmas-themed printed bag tied with a curled ribbon.

“These are great.” I looked at her, confused. “What are they for?”

Esmeralda laughed. “I knew she would forget to tell you. Your aunt called and asked if I'd do treats for the party Saturday. Now, I know I was only supposed to do fifty bags, but I have a feeling you'll have more kids show up than that.”

“A feeling or a premonition?” I asked, teasing as she passed the basket over to me.

My neighbor cocked her head at me and smiled. “Now, Jill, don't you know that there's no such thing as a premonition?”

“Says the town fortune teller.”

She swished her skirts, brushing off some imaginary dust. “Only the true believers can hear my voice. When you're a skeptic, everything is suspect.”

“So you're saying I'm a skeptic?” I was beginning to understand the woman. I didn't think we'd ever be good friends, but maybe good neighbors.

Emma nudged my leg, and I reached down and stroked her head.

The fortune teller smiled then. “Oh no, Jill. You're definitely a true believer. You just haven't found your faith yet. I'll tell Greg I saw you.”

I watched as she wandered down the steps. Then as I turned back to the house, I heard her voice. “You'll see the problem today. She's hurting. You need to help her.”

I turned back, but Esmeralda was out of the gate and down the road already. I could have imagined the words, but I saw Emma watching her, too. “Stranger and stranger,” I whispered. I took the basket into the house and set it on the kitchen counter. No use letting Emma get cookie dreams into her head. I filled her water and food dishes and let her outside to the backyard for the time I'd be gone. I put the basket into the Jeep along with my tote filled with Work Today forms and my purse. Instead of heading out to the highway, I turned right toward town. I was surprised I didn't see Esmeralda. She must have hit a dead run to make it to City Hall before I passed her.

I parked in the back of the shop and grabbed the cookie basket. Unlocking the back door, I paused and listened. Josh's cats were yowling up a storm. No wonder he couldn't sleep at night. Maybe we did need to think about a South Cove humane society. Although where the funding would come from was another subject. Mayor Baylor claimed on a semiannual basis how poor the town was, even with the high taxes we paid on our property and sales in the shops. The cost of living in paradise, I thought every time I wrote the check to the tax assessor.

I set the basket on the table in the back and went up front to grab the mail out from under the door. Looking out the window, I saw Marie sweeping the sidewalk in front of The Glass Slipper. I waved and she turned away. Okay, so she was still mad at me. Why, I didn't even want to guess.

I double-checked the front door locks, and headed back the way I'd come, flipping through the envelopes and not finding much, unless you thought electric bills were exciting. I put the unopened bills on my desk and threw the junk mail into the trash can. I locked up the back door and within minutes I was driving down Highway 1, the tunes cranked up and the sea air flowing through the open car windows.

Before I knew it, I was in Bakerstown. First stop, Work Today. When I entered, Candy was sitting at the reception desk, looking through a stack of files. She frowned when I walked in. “There is no way I can grant an extension on paperwork that should have been done prior to the project starting, so there's no use asking.”

I smiled and pulled out the stack of forms, slamming them down on the counter. They made a nice resounding clunk, if I did say so myself. “Why would I need an extension? The town of South Cove is happy to follow the rules, once we know what they are. You know Ted never even mentioned forms that were required. I'm sure if we'd asked your supervisors for an extension, they would have granted one.”

Candy frowned. “They were also the ones who hired Ted in the first place. I tried to tell them he was trouble. All that good guy on the outside hid a monster underneath.” She leaned forward. “If I didn't think it would hurt the center, I'd tell you tales about that guy that would turn your stomach.”

“I think I've heard a few.” I didn't want to sound like a Ted supporter, but she needed to know we weren't the problem. “Look, the paperwork is done. Sorry for the delay. But you need to lighten up. You could have given us more time.”

Candy smiled, but the curl of her lips looked more evil than happy. “I could have, yes, but now I have one project cleaned up and I can work on the next. Thanks for jumping through the hoops so quickly for me.”

Glad to be of assistance,
I thought.

Next stop, Bakerstown Children's Center, and then my day off would be my own. I reminded myself I would have had to come into town for the center anyway. I guess Candy's scare tactics just got one more responsibility off my list. Seeing the kids would brighten the mood that Candy had just crushed. Her mother sure missed the mark naming the woman.

Baby names were always so full of hope and promise. You never met a child named Trouble or Sorrow. At least I never had. Maybe people should have their names examined after a few years of adulthood. That way we wouldn't be surprised when a woman wasn't as sweet as her name. Or, my other side said, you should watch the ones who looked on the outside too perfect. Like Candy. And Bambi.

I pulled the Jeep into the center's parking lot and banished the thought of the woman who'd killed my friend over some historic coins from my mind. Next time a Daisy or Wendy or Lily came into my life, I'd be on guard for their evil streak.

A four-year-old blond girl grabbed my legs as soon as I walked in the door. “I want my mommy,” she screamed. Tears flowed from the child's eyes, and it was apparent she'd been crying for a while.

A young woman kneeled in front of me, removing the child's grip from me. “Come on, honey, it's storytime.” The woman smiled. “It's Angel's first day at the center. It takes some adjustment.”

“I can see that.” I stared at the screaming child now being carried over to a ring of preschoolers watching the show with bored interest, ready for the drama to be over and the story to begin. I called after the lion tamer, “Is Diane in her office?”

“Go on back. She's working on the books.” The woman sat at the top of the circle, the child held firmly in her lap and a book in the other hand. In a calm voice, she started reading aloud.

I traced my steps through the large building from my last visit. When I came up on Diane's office, she saw me through the window and waved me in. “Hey, I'm just finishing up the plans for Saturday. You can't believe how excited the kids and parents are.”

“Santa visits are magical.” I slipped into one of two cheap vinyl chairs in front of Diane's desk.

“Well, yes, there's the fact that Santa will be there. But we're so excited about your book program for the parents. You must have gotten a lot of donations to be able to give away a book for the kids and one for the parents.”

I tried not to show surprise. One more marketing maven idea Jackie hadn't bothered to run by me. I'd call her on the way home. My impression had been we were giving away a drink coupon, not two books. And putting on a party. I saw the hole in this month's profit margin growing larger. I put on a fake smile. “We have a very generous clientele.”

“I'm thinking you and your aunt are the generous ones.” Diane's smile was real, not fake like my own. “Anyway, we're on schedule to be there right at eleven. We're taking the center's bus. Most of our families don't have a reliable vehicle.”

“We're looking forward to Saturday.” I tried to remember the number of families Jackie had thrown out the last time we'd talked. “How many do you expect to come?”

Diane grinned. “Hold on, let me get my list.” She fumbled through the files on her desk, and opening one, she ran her finger down the list. “Thirty-seven families have RSVP'd. Now, some of them have two kids in the center, so I'd say we'll be close to fifty by the time you add up all the staff and kids.”

Esmeralda's cookie count made sense now. I nodded and wondered if we had enough staff on Saturday to help. The last event we squeezed eighty adults into the shop. Hopefully kids would take less room. Maybe I should hire a couple of the local teenagers to work a shift, just to help with the party. I realized Diane was watching me. “Well, then, we'll see you on Saturday.”

“You okay? You seem kind of surprised at the size of the group. Do I need to cull it down? We could only have the kids who are starting to read and their parents attend.”

“No!” I swallowed and then softened my tone. “The point of having the party at the bookstore is to encourage reading. The more we get when they're young, the better. Besides, the parents are all future customers, right?”

Diane shook her head. “Honestly, I think several of them can't read themselves. It's amazing what doesn't happen in today's school system.”

“Then we'll start slow. The party's going to be amazing.” Diane's words had got me thinking about other ways I could help. Maybe this didn't have to be only a holiday act of goodwill. One more thing to add to my to-do list. “So we'll see you then.”

Diane stood and reached over to shake my hand. “Thank you for doing this. Of all the holiday generosity, I believe this act of kindness may just change some lives.”

As I left the office, I compared my two stops. One woman lived for the rules and the program. The other, for making a difference in her community. Both on the surface seemed to be part of the social service net and yet, if I, a community partner, could feel the difference, I wondered how people like Kyle and Mindy got through the system without giving up. Or going crazy.

I headed to the local department store to replace the throw pillows as well as pick up more dog food and treats. Then to the grocery store and home.

It was just past noon when I left Bakerstown, a bag of fast food sitting next to me, open so I could snack on French fries as I drove. I'd splurged and bought a vanilla milk shake, too. I was in a food coma as I drove.

As I came close to town, I saw Becky pushing a shopping cart stuffed with a blanket. She must be out scrounging for food. I parked the Jeep by the side of the road and got out, pulling my jacket close to my body. The wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped since my run that morning.

“Hey, Becky,” I called as I walked toward her. She froze and, glancing at the cart, reached down to cover something with a blanket. She pushed the cart to the side of the road and then left it to come meet me.

“What do you want?” Her eyes were hard.

Not quite the greeting I'd expected, but after my experience that morning, I was willing to give her a little leeway. I'd never walked in her shoes before. The closest thing to my being homeless had been the few hours after I signed the final papers selling the condo and before I bought the building in South Cove. “Just wondering if you were okay. Can I drop you somewhere?”

She shook her head. “I'm going down to the public beach to walk. I'm fine.”

Her lie confused me, as the first entrance to the beach parking lot was a mile closer to town. She had two more miles to go before she'd reach another access.

“You sure? I don't mind.” I thought about the mushroom and Swiss burger I had in the Jeep. My lunch. “You hungry? I bought too much food when I was in town and I'm going to have to throw it away.”

“You have milk?” She appeared hopeful.

“No, a hamburger. But it has cheese. And I have a milk shake if you want it.” I'd been saving the shake to savor with my burger at home.

Becky glanced back at the shopping cart she'd left next to the road. She watched a car until it had gone past the silver cart. “I guess that would be fine.”

She waited for me to get the bag and cup out of the Jeep. When I held it out to her, she snatched it from my hands and started walking back to the cart. She turned back. “I don't need no ride. I'm fine.”