Killer Run (4 page)

Glancing at the clock as I turned out my light that night, I groaned. Two o'clock. Tomorrow was going to come too early, but I patted the cover of the book. I'd read straight through to the last page, and it would be worth the book hangover I'd feel in the morning. I thought about ways we could showcase different biographies in the bookstore window. As I drifted off to sleep, visions of First Lady covers floated in my mind.

My phone blared me awake. I felt for the cell and dragged it to my ear, sitting up as I did. “Hello?”

“Where are you? I've had the store open for twenty minutes.” Aunt Jackie's voice blared into my ear.

I sank backward onto the bed. “It's Friday. My day off?”

“Not this week, it isn't. Didn't you read my e-mail to the entire staff? We have a full house this morning from runners who came in early. Sasha was waiting for me when I arrived.” I heard my aunt ring up an order on the cash register.

“If Sasha's there, you can't need me.” No way were there that many people visiting South Cove for a race. I listened as my aunt counted out change for the customer, and then she returned to our conversation.

“Come down here and say that.” The line went silent for a second. “Look, I'm not going to beg, but we really need the help and I don't want to wake Toby since he just got off his evening patrol.”

I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Don't call Toby. I'll be there as soon as I can shower.” I glanced at the clock again—six fifteen. “Give me twenty minutes.”

“You might want to come in the back, the line's already out the front door.” And then my aunt hung up the phone.

I thought about how many people would have to be in line before it cranked out the entryway and decided against the shower. I'd come home early before the practice walk tonight. I ran downstairs to let out Emma and grabbed a cup of coffee to get me started.

Ten minutes later as I power-walked to the store, I realized my aunt hadn't been exaggerating. There were people all over South Cove. Diamond Lille's was packed for breakfast, and people sat on benches with those buzzers in their hands. Since when had Lille invested in a pager system? I picked up my pace, dodging and weaving between people on the sidewalk.

In the park in front of City Hall, someone had draped a
Welcome to South Cove
sign between two trees. From the time I'd left late afternoon yesterday to now, the town had turned into a hot tourist destination. Flags hung from the streetlights, welcoming runners. As Coffee, Books, and More came into view, I saw what had my aunt frantic for help. The line snaked down past Antiques by Thomas. A steady stream of customers was leaving the store with CBM cups and little white bags filled with pastries from the shop.

Squeezing in between the two buildings, I headed for the back door, pulling my keys out of my pocket as I walked. Throwing my light jacket on the desk, I grabbed an apron and opened the swinging door to the shop. The sound was deafening. People chatted, the coffeemaker churned, and Aunt Jackie rang up another order. I paused next to her. “Where do you want me?”

“Fill up the dessert case, we're almost empty.” She nodded toward the glass case beside her. “Then bring out more cups. I knew I should have told Sasha to overstock.”

For the next hour, we worked side by side. I refilled the dessert case twice and brought out cups three times. When the line ended and the only customers in the shop were the ones enjoying their breakfast treats at the tables, Sasha leaned toward me.

“I don't believe I'll need to stop at the gym tonight.” She wiped the back of her hand across her head. “I didn't think runners liked treats and things.”

“They have to keep up the calories before a run. They've probably been eating brown rice and chicken for the last month. Today, before the race, they get to carb load.” I started cutting another cheesecake to put into the case. I was sure our lull wouldn't last long.

Aunt Jackie nodded her approval at my action. “You and Sasha get the place set up again. I'm going into the back to sit down.”

I touched her arm with my hand, slowing her movement. “You okay?”

She swatted my hand away. “I'm not that old and infirm. My feet are just killing me. Give me a few minutes and I'll be fine.”

Sasha watched as my aunt disappeared in the back. “I think she forgot to take her pain pills.”

“What pain pills?” Now I was concerned.

Sasha shrugged. “No big deal. She has arthritis like my mama. We've talked about it before, and I gave her the name of Mama's doctor. He's really good with getting the pain under control.”

I stared at my newest employee. Sasha had been a participant in the Work Today program during the holidays. Once we'd trained her, we didn't want to let her go, so Aunt Jackie and I carved out shift times for the young mother. “I didn't realize she was having problems.”

Sasha stacked more cups near the machine. “She didn't tell me. I saw the way she walked and told her about my mama and her affliction. Took me a while to convince her to go.”

“Looks like your wall project has finally borne fruit.” Mayor Baylor stood at the counter, glancing at the full dining room. “I knew all along the sanctioning of the South Cove Mission would be a boon for the town. Glad you listened to my counsel.”

Thoughts filled my head as I went through the multiple choices of how to call our honorable mayor a downright dirty liar without causing a scene. Finally Sasha stepped in between us. “You here for your regular, Mayor? What about Amy? Are you taking back a cup for her, as well?”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Not only had the mayor never come into the shop on his own to order coffee, he'd never bought one for Amy, his receptionist. Mayor Baylor waved away the notion. “I'm sure Miss Newman has already had her coffee. Besides, who knows if she's even still at the desk? According to her, you all are doing some sort of trial run tonight on the greenbelt?”

“I'm sure she hasn't left yet. We're meeting there at five. Darla wants a real-life test run. I'm sure she could use more volunteers to set up trash cans or water spots if you and Tina aren't busy.” I started a large mocha with French vanilla pumps for the man.

He pulled out his wallet and handed Sasha a ten. “Sorry, Tina and I are hosting a small get together tonight for the California Mission Society staff and donors. Black tie over at the winery. Darla's closed the tasting room to local traff ic, and the event staff is coming in from the city to work.” He held his hand out for the coffee cup. “I guess they only invite people whose sites have been historically finalized. Maybe you'll be on the list for next year's event.”

I handed him the cup with a sleeve protector and a napkin wrapped around it so the mayor's delicate hands wouldn't be burned by the hot liquid. And then I lied. “Oh, I was invited. I decided that it was more important to ensure that tomorrow's race goes off without a hitch than drink with people who are only there to be seen as involved.”

Sasha gave the mayor his change. “I think they call that acting locally. Or at least that's what all the celebrities are saying. Nobody's going to parties anymore, they're all too busy doing events like the run.” Her eyes widened. “Do you think we'll get any movie stars running? I've got Olivia set up with her grandmother tomorrow, so I may just show up early with a camera tucked away in my running shorts.”

“People are not avoiding cocktail parties.” Mayor Baylor raised his shoulders as high as his five-foot-two frame would allow. “Tina and I were at an event last weekend where plenty of actors and celebrities were in attendance.”

Sasha had already stopped listening and was looking at her phone, searching out something. “Here's an article from the
LA Times
about the change in celebrities' social calendars . . . I hope the Mission Walk can get some good press that way.”

“I'm sure there are still people who like to attend cocktail parties.” I couldn't think of anyone, except maybe my former coworkers at the law firm, or low-level politicians like Mayor Baylor, but there had to be someone.

The mayor pointed at me with a finger. “You are going to wish you were there. I'll have my picture taken with all the famous people and e-mail you a copy for Monday morning. Then you'll be begging for an invite to next year's event.”

He didn't wait for an answer to his threat or promise. Sasha sighed as we watched the mayor leave. “If I could find a babysitter, I'd crash that party tonight. I'm sure the mayor's right, there will be a bunch of famous people wandering through.”

“Don't tell me you're starstruck.” I nudged her with my shoulder. “What about all that bluster about the LA article?”

“That's mostly the older actors who nobody wants to see anyway. Why show up at an event to be ignored? At least this way, they get a bit of attention for the charity aspect.” Sasha nodded to Toby, who had just entered the shop. “Why don't you head home? I think we can handle the crowds now that Barista Babe is here.”

“Stop calling me that.” Toby sent a pleading look my way. “Can't you tell her to stop? It's demeaning.”

“And so true.” I laughed. Sasha was fitting into the family nicely. “Children, stop calling each other names.”

“Mama's boy,” I heard Sasha mutter under her breath. Then she yelled as a towel snapped her arm. “Hey, that hurts!”

“I'm letting Aunt Jackie deal with the two of you. See you both tomorrow?” We'd closed Coffee, Books, and More for Saturday with a sign on the door saying we'd be selling on site for the race from 5 a.m. to 2 p.m., then reopening in the main shop on Sunday morning. We'd borrowed a food truck from one of Aunt Jackie's friends, and this was our first official off-site sale day. Everyone but Toby was working the truck. Toby was running the race as a plant for the police department, to make sure nothing happened during the run.

“Yes, ma'am,” they both answered.

By the time I'd left the shop, I only had thirty minutes to grab something to eat before Emma and I had to leave. The race would start south of town, then wind north to the outskirts of South Cove, ending up on the beach parking lot, where Emma and I started our beach run. Greg's truck was parked at the edge of the lot. He climbed out of the cab and gave me a quick hug before taking Emma's leash.

“You want to walk to the beginning to meet everyone? We have an hour before Darla's due to arrive.” His hand dropped absently to the cell phone at his side. “She tried to reach you a few minutes ago, but you must have already left the house. She said she had an impromptu booking she had to finalize.”

I grabbed a bottle of water out of the zippered pouch I'd brought along. “Yeah, the mayor has turned the race into a photo opportunity for him and his cronies. I bet Darla's feeling like she's being torn in two.”

“She has Matt to help. Besides, this race check won't take more than an hour. Don't worry, she'll make the best of this.” He locked the truck and put his hand on my back, leading me toward the trail. “From what she said, she charged them a premium rate for such a late booking.”

“Sounds like Darla.” I relaxed as we walked toward the start line. Darla had had volunteers run rope along each side of the trail. Benches were set randomly through the path. The smell of honeysuckle floated through the early summer evening. “Hey, have you heard anything more about the vandalism? Darla asked me this morning.”

“She tried to get information from me when she called. I'll tell you what I told her. The DA believes it's just local kids blowing off steam.”

“Has he met our local kids? We don't have a bad one in the bunch.” I watched as Emma chased a chipmunk off the asphalted path. “I swear sometimes that guy just looks for the easy way out.”

“And sometimes you look for things that aren't there.” He pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes.

We walked the length of the race path chatting about our day, our upcoming trip, and absolutely nothing. That was one thing I loved about spending time with Greg. He was just as happy to talk about the types of trees lining the path as he was the local sports teams. Don't get me wrong, the guy loved his ESPN, but he knew when to shut off that side of his brain for other topics. At least with me.

As we came up on the start line, Josh and Jackie met us on the path. “You're late,” Josh grumbled. He had on the same knock-off tracksuit I'd seen him in the day before. My aunt had switched to a fuchsia-striped jacket with solid legging pants. For her age, I had to admit, she looked good. Emma sat at attention, a whine growing in her throat as she waited for Jackie to see her.

Greg glanced at his watch. “Only by five minutes. I take it you're the slow group?”

“If that's a reference to my age, Detective King, you'd better think twice about the next words out of your mouth.” Aunt Jackie marched in place as she gave Greg a withering look. She reached down and stroked Emma's head without a comment. My dog melted.

“I'm just surprised they set the two of you with that group. I would have thought Darla would have tagged someone who needed it.” Greg's words flowed over the perceived slight, and I could see my aunt's shoulders relaxing. My boyfriend had that effect on people; even nasty little men like Mayor Baylor, Greg could calm with a word or two. The man could have been a successful politician, but he hated the games. I bit back a smile.

“Almost a good catch,” Aunt Jackie murmured. She kissed me on the cheek and pulled Josh forward. “We'll see you at the finish line. Maybe we should all have dinner at Diamond Lille's after this to celebrate.”