If the Shoe Kills (9 page)

He glanced at me. “Possible. At least it's a lead. This case is dryer than the Mojave.” He tapped my leg. “You ready to get dinner?”

I nodded, stunned. I thought I'd been giving him a viable lead and yet he couldn't be bothered with checking Marie out to see if she was the one throwing threats at my front door? It had to be her, there was no one else.

I figured I was dressed good enough for a dinner in town so I put Emma out the back door with a bowl of water, more food, and her bone. I grabbed my book off the swing and set it on the kitchen table after locking the door. Greg picked it up, glancing at the back.

“Not your typical reading material.”

I swung my purse on my shoulder and stood waiting. “I wanted to see what the fuss was about. I've sold more copies of that one book than anything else in the last three months. And next month, they're releasing a movie based on the books.”

“I've heard about this.” He set the book down and put his hand on my back. As he led me out my front door, I glanced at the place where I'd dropped the note. The porch was empty.

Lille's was quiet for a Sunday night, but as soon as we'd ordered, Mayor Baylor and his wife made an entrance. As soon as Tina saw us, she dragged Marvin through the tables and stood in front of our booth. “Jill, I'm so sorry about your little mishap. I hope you're doing better.”

It took me a few seconds to realize she was talking about my finding Ted's body not the rabbit. “It was quite a shock, but I'm fine now. Thanks for asking.”

She leaned closer. “We'll have to talk soon. I want all the details.” Tina glanced at Greg. “Especially since your boyfriend refuses to tell me anything.”

Mayor Baylor cleared his throat. “Now, Tina, you know Greg can't talk about an open investigation. It would be”—he paused and glared at me—“unethical.”

Greg turned his pizza-and-a-game smile on Tina. “That's why I've been staying away while you decorate. You know I have trouble telling you no.”

I almost gagged as I listened to him flirt with the woman. Greg was much better at this politicking game than I'd realized. Tina was still talking and now they were looking at me.

“So I'll be over Tuesday morning to discuss your business's contribution to the festival.” Tina arched an eyebrow. “Around ten?”

“Sounds good. I'm excited to see what you've come up with for a theme.” I felt a tad bit guilty for not standing up for Darla, but if Greg could be nice to the meanest couple in South Cove, I could give it a try.

“It's not just decorations, you know. We'll have to do a town charity project.” Tina glanced around the almost empty dining room. “I'm sure we could find some family who's poverty-stricken to support this year. The Good Book says we're supposed to take care of our neighbors.”

“Jackie's doing, well, the shop is doing a children's book drive for the Bakerstown Children's Center. The entire town could help us with that, if you'd like.” Jackie would love the idea, well, once she got over the fact that Tina would bulldoze her out of being in charge. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

Tina exchanged a look with her husband that clearly said, Can you believe this woman? Then she turned back to me, and in a calm voice like I was a child, said, “That won't do at all. I mean, I'm sure it's a fine project for your little store, but we're going to do something that will change lives. Not just entertain a bunch of kids.”

“Studies show kids who learn to read early are less likely to drop out of school and later stay out of jail or prison or worse.” I felt my back stiffen as my words sounded more and more clipped.

“Why, yes, I've read those sad stories, too, but if a family needs food and shelter and heat, giving them a book is just rubbing their noses in their inability to care for the family's basic needs.” She focused her attention on Greg. “Don't you agree?”

Before Greg could answer, the ringtone version of “My Heart Will Go On” filled the café. I wondered if she realized how appropriate a sinking ship theme song was for her personal ringtone. I didn't get a chance to ask as she answered the phone. “Tina Baylor,” she crooned into the mouthpiece as she motioned for her husband to follow her. They sat in a booth on the other side of the dining room, the mayor studying the menu like he hadn't eaten here two or three times a week for the last ten years.

“I guess we're dismissed.” I took a sip of the soda Carrie had brought over before the visitors had arrived at our table. “Boy, she has you wrapped around her little finger.”

“I'm used to the game.” Greg shrugged. “She's always been like that. She didn't even know my name the first three years I worked for South Cove. Now that I'm divorced and available for her to try to set me up with her friends, suddenly I'm interesting.”

“Available, huh?” My blood was beginning to heat. I hadn't liked Tina before; now I wanted to strangle her. “Why would she think you were available?”

He grinned and put his hand over mine. “Well, I was interesting before I started dating you. Now I just think she's confused.”

Our food was delivered and for the next hour, we talked about anything but the case. He recounted Amy and Esmeralda's day with the steamroller that was Tina Baylor. I told him about Aunt Jackie's book drive and, because I knew he loved gossip as much as I did, about her fight with Josh.

“The guy needs to learn to shut up when he's ahead. Jackie will calm down, but not if he keeps making himself a target.” Greg pushed away his plate, empty except for the crumbs of the bacon big burger and one last French fry, which he grabbed and popped into his mouth.

“Is that how you deal with me when we fight? Stay out of reach?” I took the last bite of my enchilada, eyeing the dessert menu.

“You've discovered my evil plan.” Greg grinned. “Sherry wouldn't let me stay away. If she wanted to fight, she'd come down to the station or wherever I was to get it done and over with. You, on the other hand, you steam for a while, then the issue works itself out.”

“I'm going to be very upset if you don't order the Brownie Surprise and two spoons.” I pointed at the picture on the table flyer standing in the salt and pepper holder.

Greg waved over Carrie to give her the order. “And that's the other thing; you can be plied with food into a good mood. Sherry wanted jewelry or later, in our marriage, cold hard cash.”

“Well, maybe we should invite her over for Thanksgiving and I can learn a few things from her,” I teased. Jim had tried to push an invite for Sherry and her new banker boyfriend.

“If you do, she can have my place. I already told Jim that she wouldn't be on the guest list.” He nodded to the dessert Carrie had just set on the table between us. “Be good or I won't let you have a bite.”

O
ne in three people dread Monday. They've done studies. It's a day filled with sleep deprived commuters, grumpy receptionists, and annoyed customers. Problems that any other day would be handled quickly with a smile seemed to take forever to complete. It was that way when I worked for the law office. The group I hung with typically gathered at the little tavern next to the office building every Monday evening, throwing out war stories, trying to best the story told by the last guy.

Now I loved Mondays. It was my day off. Typically when the tourist seasons were slow, the shop was closed on both Sunday and Monday, but the holiday season traffic demanded the doors stay open during the weekend. I slept in that morning, only rousing when Emma gave me a slurpy kiss. Sunshine filled the room and I threw off the covers, padding downstairs to let her outside.

Last night, Greg had dropped me off at my door close to nine, giving me a quick good-night kiss as he returned to the station to pore over the files and notes from the investigation. I threw a load into the washer, grabbed a bottle of water, and took my book upstairs to continue exploring the fantasy world. It was almost one when I'd finished the book and turned off the light, visions of elves and talking mushrooms taking over my dreams.

After I'd brushed my teeth and pulled my hair into a scrunchy, I started the coffee and opened my notebook-slash-day-planner. During the week, I'd write off all the housekeeping jobs I'd put onto Monday's schedule as well as any errands I needed to run. Like visiting the Work Today program and meeting the new program director. Time to find out who'd I'd be working with for the next eight weeks. And find out if Ted had left any hints of why he'd moved so far west from his family's influence. I was sure I wasn't going to be able to walk in and search his desk, but maybe there'd be something.

Emma barked at the door. She eyed the hook where I hung her running leash, then looked back at me, gauging my interest.

“We'll go, just give me some time to do a few things.” I patted her golden head. She gave me a lick on the hand in response, then grabbed her teddy bear and headed to her kitchen bed to try to tear the stuffed animal to pieces.

I sipped my coffee as I wrote Ted's name on the top of a page in my notebook, then wrote Marie's name at the bottom. Would Marie stoop to threatening me because of the conversation I overheard? It didn't seem her style, but really, what did I know about the woman? I had paid for one more class with her next Thursday. Maybe I'd have a chance to ask her about her phone conversation then.

I wrote the name
Katherine Janell Corbet Hendricks
in the middle of the page, and opening my laptop, I started working on finding out anything and everything on Ted's missing wife. Like had she studied glass design. At nine, I closed my web browser and frowned at the paper. I hadn't added anything to the page except the name of the college where Katherine and Ted had met. I'd pulled up the college's Web site, and besides the fact the library was named for the Hendricks family, there wasn't a clue that Ted had even graduated. I'd sent a quick e-mail to the address listed for the alumni committee saying I was putting together a story about Ted and Katherine for our local newspaper. I even threw in the part of feeling connected since I'd found the body. Maybe if the recipient was just a little nosy, she'd respond to find out more about Ted's death.

When I stood to put my cup in the sink, Emma watched me, hope filling her face. If I was going to get a run in before my Bakerstown trip, it was time to go. “Let me get changed and we'll go.”

Emma's tail beat on the floor in happy response.

Just over an hour later, I was showered and on the road, my notebook in my purse. I would stop by the work program, make a detour to the children's center, then I planned on a quick lunch at the new café that had opened last month. From what Aunt Jackie had reported, the food was amazing. Then a quick stop at the grocery store, and home to South Cove. I should be back in the house and curled up with a book by three.

I turned into the nearly empty parking lot. Maybe the place was closed on Mondays, too?

I walked into the deserted lobby. Folding chairs lined one wall. On the other, five antique computers sat side by side, the large, bulky monitors dark. A printer sat on another table, a bulletin board hung above the table. Flyers were tacked to the board, most yellowed with age. In one corner of the room, a play area had been built up kind of like a sandbox, with a few broken and partial toys on the floor. I walked toward the back and a young girl burst from the hallway, a box in her hands.

“Oh, I'm sorry. How long have you been waiting? I didn't hear anyone come in.” The girl set the box on the desk. She pushed it toward me. “I wasn't expecting you for another couple of hours.”

“What?” I wasn't sure I'd heard her correctly.

The phone rang. “Bakerstown Work Today, may I help you?” The girl twisted her hair as she grinned at me. “Hold on a second, I'll find out.”

She put the call on hold and pointed to the box. “There's most of Ted's stuff, but I've got a few more things to bring out.” Then she disappeared toward the back.

“Wait,” I called after her. I glanced at the box, my curiosity getting the best of me. I looked in the direction the girl had disappeared, then started digging through the box, just in case there was anything there. I found an old wedding picture of Ted and Katherine, his smile bright, hers more tentative. I turned over the picture and saw the back coming loose, a piece of paper hanging out. When I twisted the holders on the back, a folded sheet of paper fell into my hand.

A voice called out from down the hall and I stepped away from the box and the desk, shoving the paper that had somehow stayed in my hand into my purse. This time when the girl returned, an older woman followed. She smiled and greeted me. “So you knew Ted?”

I nodded, but quickly added, “I think there's been a mistake. I'm not here to pick up his things. Actually, I'm Jill Gardner, the business consultant for South Cove's council. I worked with Ted on the placements he made recently in our community.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at the young girl, who shrugged. “I figured she was the person who called earlier.”

“Alice means well,” the older woman said to me as if the girl wasn't sitting three feet away from us. “She just makes assumptions.”

I smiled at Alice, silently thanking her for leaving me alone to rifle through Ted's things. I might have found a clue because of her mistake. “No worries.” I held out my hand. “We haven't been introduced. I take it you're the new program director?”

The woman laughed. “New, old, just depends on your perspective. Bakerstown was my assignment before Ted came and replaced me. I got moved into the city. I have to say, I'm glad I'm back home.” She shook my hand. “Candy Peterson. I've heard good things about you from all the South Cove placements, especially Sasha.”

“She's a sweet girl.” I glanced around the lobby. “Seems quiet for a Monday. Don't people look for work at the first of the week?”

“We're in between sessions. In fact, the South Cove group is our last one until January rolls in. Of course, all of our participants, past and current, are welcome to use the facility, but it's hard to get them to come in, especially when they can search the web at home without driving or walking someplace to do it.”

“What kind of placement rate do you have?” I'd worked with a program in the city as part of my community service work required of first-year hires in my office. I'd wanted to stay on, but making billable hours for the partners became more and more difficult, especially with the family law I enjoyed practicing. Something had to give, and since I was still trying to keep my failing marriage alive, charity work fell off my to-do list.

“For the last three years, it's been one hundred percent placement rate.” She paused, waiting for a reaction.

My eyes widened. “That's amazing. I worked with a center a few years ago and they typically never made it past sixty.”

“Most centers average sixty to seventy, depending on the location.” She threw a dark look to the box. “Let's just say I'm hesitant to stand behind the validity of our numbers.”

Matt had told Darla that Ted had been playing with the placements for his personal gain. Could he also have been fudging the numbers? He seemed like the type who would want to win at all costs. I pointedly viewed my watch. “I didn't mean to take up so much of your time. I hope the next time you're in South Cove you stop by and have a cup of coffee on me. We can talk more.”

Candy walked me to the door. “I'm planning on visiting the placement sites next week, just to clean up the files a bit. I'll be sure to stop by.”

I paused. “Who's coming for Ted's things? I didn't think his family had arrived.” Actually, I didn't think his family was even coming.

“I'm not sure. Alice said it was an older woman who called, but I think anyone over twenty-five, she considers ancient.” She straightened the open sign on the door. “I feel bad that I'm benefiting from such a tragedy. Who knew Ted had such deep feelings that he could have been drawn to this end? Between you and me, I always thought he didn't have it in him. Ted was not someone with real emotions.”

“He did have strong opinions.” I paused, my hand on the door handle. “Thank you for making the transition so easy. I look forward to working with you on this placement and maybe others.”

Candy acted like I'd promised her the cake batter bowl. “I'll bring some pamphlets when I come by next week.”

We said our good-byes, and I wondered about how upset Candy had been to be transferred out of an assignment she considered home. As I turned the Jeep out of the Work Today parking lot, a dark Lincoln Town Car turned into the lot. I'd almost talked myself out of listing Candy as a suspect when I'd arrived in front of the children's center. Someone had painted a mural of sea animals cavorting in the ocean that covered the entire south side of the building. It was beautiful and a bit disturbing at the same time. The deep blue of the ocean scene made me dizzy as I stared into the fake depths.

I located the front door and slipped into the ice cool of the air-conditioned building. The sounds of the fans echoed through the open foyer, lined with tiny lockers, all with combination locks built into the doors. The lockers had been painted primary colors and seemed to be set in sections of red, blue, and yellow.

I heard noises down the hall, and when I walked into the main room, I noticed the same division of colors in the carpet. The large gym had been painted the three colors too, and now I could see that blue held infants; yellow, the toddlers; and finally red were the older children almost ready to be sent off to public school.

A woman sat at a metal desk to the left of the door. “May I help you?” she asked, without much enthusiasm.

I pulled out a bundle of children's books I'd pulled from the store's shelves as an introductory gift and handed them to the receptionist. “I'm here to help you. One of your customers, Sasha Smith, has a child here. She's temping at our store for the season, and we'd like to run a book drive for your center.”

The woman stood, her energy level changing immediately. “Let me get you to Diane. She's the program manager. I'm sure they'd love to have you sponsor.” She held on to the small pile of books like it was a check for an unspeakable value. “Come with me.”

She led me through the blue area to a small office in the wall, a window looking out into the larger room. I could see a woman at the desk who was on the phone, but when she heard the knock, she waved us in and quickly terminated the call.

The woman appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, but she stood and held out her hand. “I'm Diane Jenson, I take it you're here to enroll your child?”

My head snapped back in unconcealed horror. “Uh, no. I don't have kids.” I almost added “yet,” but that would have been looking into a future that might or might not happen.

The receptionist bubbled, “She's Sasha's new boss. They want to run a book drive for us.” She gently set the books on the worn wooden desk in front of her manager. “Isn't that wonderful news?”

Diane leafed through the books I'd carefully chosen off the shelf, tapping her finger on one before she moved on. “These are lovely. Thank you for the donation.”

“I don't think you understand. We're doing a holiday drive at Coffee, Books, and More in South Cove. Those are just the books I brought you today. We haven't even started collecting yet.” I rushed to explain our plan. I handed her mine and Jackie's business cards ending with, “My aunt is the force behind this project. She'll be in touch, but I wanted to stop in and get your blessing before we started advertising.”

“How nice. Many of our children don't have access to books at home.” She sighed, looking out the window. “I suspect some of the kids are actually on the street when they leave here. Story time is the most popular time of day. Could I give you a wish list from the staff?”

“We thought you might want input.” I tapped Jackie's card. “You can call my aunt or just fax over a list when you get one together. We'll make certain your Santa list is filled.” I'd order the books myself, even if we didn't get donations. I had a bit of money set aside I liked to call the Miss Emily Fund. This would be a perfect use of some of my inheritance from my old friend.

Diane forced a tired smile and offered me a tour of the facility. Glancing at my watch for real this time, I reluctantly begged off. If I was going to get anything done today, I needed to get moving. Leaving the center, I blessed my parents for instilling a love of books in me. When my day wasn't going as planned, or life just continued to kick me in the gut, I knew I could escape into a world where happily-ever-afters were a given and problems were overcome. One of my patrons loved her true crime stories. I'd read one, the Ted Bundy story, and swore the genre off my reading list. I knew evil existed in the real world; I didn't want to be reminded as I read for pleasure.