Law and Author (9 page)

With a grin that came across as a leer, he said, “I think it's a marvellous idea.”

GRACE AGAINST THE CLOCK—
JULIE HYZY

L
izzie looked up from tying her shoelaces as the back door opened and the bell rang. Mark stood there, dressed in black shorts, faded gray T-shirt, and running shoes, with a Braves ball cap on backward. He grinned at her expression.

“What are you doing here this early and dressed like that?” she said, agape.

“I've spent the last two days tied up in investigations and meetings, so today I'm taking at least a couple of hours to get my head straight. Patchett and I thought we'd join you in a run.” His smile slipped. “If that's all right? You haven't gone and are back already, have you?”

Lizzie stood and went into a crouch, stretching her calf muscles. “No, I haven't. Just getting ready and I'd love the company. I'm just not used to seeing you out for a run.”

“Never too old to learn new torture.”

“Humph. You're in better shape than I am. You won't have any difficulty with this. And just to get some ground rules straight, if you feel the need to eclipse me, then just keep on running at your speed. We'll meet up somewhere.”

Mark leaned against the kitchen counter and grinned.

“Are you enjoying this? Shouldn't you be stretching also?” Lizzie asked, head down against her right knee.

“Already did that before I got in the Jeep. I'll just go let Patchett out and we'll meet you in front since you don't like an audience.”

Lizzie made a face and concentrated on the remaining warm-ups. She grabbed her keys and joined them outside. Patchett did his version of a happy dance when he saw Lizzie approach. She bent down to scratch him behind his loppy left ear and then straightened, turning to check out the street.

“How about down to the pathway along the river and out to the park?”

“You might just outrun us. Patchett might just have a field day nosing around there.”

“I'm surprised you can get him to run.”

“He likes it. Keeps him in good shape.”

“And how often does he take part in this activity?”

“This might be his second time. But don't worry. I have lots of treats.” He pulled up his T-shirt to reveal a fanny pack.

“Let's just see if that works,” Lizzie challenged and took off at a slow jog. She could hear Patchett's dog tag flopping against his collar just behind her, but she didn't look back. By the time she reached the riverbank, she didn't hear him any longer. She jogged on the spot and turned to watch them approach from a distance.

“How's the running partner working for you?” she asked as they got within hearing distance.

Mark had slowed to a jog and was coaxing Patchett to
pick up the pace. “Not one of my better ideas, I admit. Now, if he had the scent of something, say a coon or rabbit even, we'd be leaving you in the dust.”

“Huh. Do you want me to bring up the rear with him while you turbo ahead? We can take turns.”

“Thanks, that's thoughtful, but I'm ready to admit defeat. It's just good to be outdoors and not thinking about the murder all the time. You go on ahead, though.”

Lizzie shook her head. “Naw. I think a walk will do me just fine.”

They continued along the path in silence until they reached the arm that would take them back up to Glendale Park and the center of town. Lizzie had been reluctant to try to get Mark talking. She knew he had a lot on his mind and counted herself lucky to be the one he wanted to share the walk with.

Patchett jerked at his leash and pulled Mark over to a fallen log.

“Must be something awfully exciting under that log,” Lizzie commented. “Just as long as it doesn't slither out.”

Mark grinned and called Patchett. When the dog responded, Mark gave him a treat and kept walking back to Lizzie. “Remember another Saturday morning? I was lying flat on the ground trying to take pictures of a bird, and you tripped over my feet?”

“I remember. Boy, did you give me a scare. That was almost a couple of years ago. A lot has happened since then.”

Mark stood right next to her. “It has. Both good and bad.” He turned to face her. “But the best part was meeting you again.” He bent over and kissed her, then pulled back and watched her face a moment before saying, “I love you, Lizzie.”

She sucked in her breath.

“Don't say anything,” Mark said. “It doesn't require an
answer. I just wanted you to know. Now, let's try to get some more running time in.” He tugged at Patchett's leash and started jogging.

It took Lizzie a couple of beats to close her mouth and shake herself out of the trance.
He loves me!
She had heard him right. And to think that in high school she'd mooned over the then football star, the guy who had all the girls chasing after him, the one she was so certain didn't know she existed. She'd been stunned when they'd met again so many years later, Lizzie involved with the book club and a murder outside Molly's house, and Mark, the chief of police. When he had let on that he'd noticed her way back then, she'd been blown away. Lizzie gave her head a small shake, bringing her back to the present.

She started after him and kept apace until they had passed the offices of the Ashton Corners Historical Society. The library was next up on their right. She slowed and looked across the street at the alley where she'd seen Darla and Rafe Shannon meeting.

Mark followed her gaze and stopped. “It's hard to get away from it,” he said with a shake of his head. “Why don't you walk me through what you saw, again?”

They started walking down the alley and stopped partway.

Lizzie looked around before answering. “This is where they really got into it. I was by the corner of the building back there. I thought he was going to hit her but he gave her a slight jab in the arm.”

She stared at the spot they'd stood without speaking.

“Lizzie, what is it?”

“I was just picturing it. Darla did look frightened but I don't think it was because she thought it was a mugging.
She wasn't clutching her bag close to her or anything like that. And then she just sort of seemed to switch gears. She wriggled out of his grasp and started getting in his face. That's odd, don't you think?”

“It is if she was afraid for her life. Or very foolish.”

“Have you learned anything else about him?”

Mark tugged her arm and they walked back to the street. “It seems he did know someone here in town.”

Lizzie looked at him and waited, wondering if he'd share the information.

“I will tell you, Lizzie, but I don't want you to go bothering her trying to find out any details. All right?” Mark locked eyes with her.

Uh-oh.
“All right.”

“He's Amber Craig's cousin.”

“What?” Lizzie lowered her voice and continued. “You've got to be kidding. She didn't mention that at the crime scene. Did she?”

He shook his head. “That's not necessarily something she wanted the world to know. But she did tell me. She hasn't seen him for years and in fact, had broken all ties with him and that side of the family when she became a police officer. She confirmed that he's had a lot of run-ins with the law ever since he was a kid and he's been in prison a couple of times.”

“For what kind of things?”

“Mainly assaults.”

Lizzie shuddered. “No wonder she wanted nothing to do with him. So, she didn't know he was in town?”

“He hadn't tried to get in touch with her. He might not even have known she lived here. I have had to take her off the case, though.”

“That's too bad. I'll bet she's not a happy camper.”

“You've got it. I've made her liaison with the mayor's office, which will help free me from the weekly meetings with him and let me concentrate more on solving this case.”

“Yikes. I know how she feels about meetings. So, is Officer Yost your second in command?”

“I don't have a second in command, but he is the one doing a lot of the legwork on this.”

They started a slow jog back toward Lizzie's. After a couple more stops for Patchett to sniff out scents, they reached her place, and Mark put Patchett in his Jeep.

“Do you have time for a coffee?” Lizzie asked.

“I was hoping you'd ask.” He followed her into the kitchen. “I'm also hoping to be able to take you out to supper tonight. That is, if you don't have any other plans?”

“I was saving tonight for you,” Lizzie answered, giving him a light kiss. “But I have another idea. How about we stay in, I cook, and we can enjoy a quiet evening together, alone.”

“Sounds perfect.” Mark grinned and Lizzie felt that familiar tingle in her toes.

She put a K-Cup in her new Keurig for Mark and ground some espresso beans for her brew. When they were both ready, she put them on the kitchen table and sat across from Mark.

“So do you have any idea why he came to town given that it probably wasn't to see Amber?”

“He's not the vacation-type of guy so it must be business related. Amber is going to make contact with her relatives to see if anyone has any information.”

“Could he have followed someone to town?”

“Who? Darla?”

Lizzie shrugged. “Possibly but she doesn't seem to be big enough fish, doesn't she?”

“Big enough fish? You come out with some of the hokiest sayings sometimes, and I mean that in the nicest of ways,” he hurried to add.

“Thank you. But don't you agree?”

“Possibly. Ashton Corners may be a small town in some ways but when it comes to standing out, as in a new man in town maybe asking questions, it's suddenly a very big place.”

“And that's why you have a job.”

Mark grinned. “You've got that right, babe.”

*   *   *

I
t took all of Lizzie's willpower not to stop in at the police station as she drove by at noon. Mark's Jeep was not in the lot but Amber Craig's black CRV was. However, Lizzie had less than five minutes to get to the Mellow Yellow Eatery for her lunch date. Teensy Coldicutt had phoned her after Mark had left, and asked if they could meet for lunch. Lizzie knew what she wanted to talk about. Darla. And that was more than fine with Lizzie.

She found Teensy at a table for two, off the main room in a recent addition to the popular restaurant. Teensy sat facing the entrance, beneath a painting of the old fairgrounds. It's like she dressed for that particular seat, Lizzie thought as she threaded her way to the back. Teensy's bright fuchsia and purple top with flowing sleeves brought out similar colors in the artwork. She even looked a tiny bit like the carousel canapé behind her. Lizzie almost mentioned it but decided better not. As she sat down, Teensy pushed a small basket of rolls toward her.

“These are real yummy. They'll tide you over until we get our lunch. It's so busy here today, it might be a long wait.”

They didn't have to wait long for a server to appear,
despite the lunch-hour crowd. They each ordered ice tea with lemon while they scanned the menus, and placed their food orders when their drinks arrived.

Teensy took a long drink and then leaned forward, her arms crossed on the table. “I'm so glad you were able to meet me, sugar. I know you're just as worried about Molly as I am, so we have to come up with some way of dealing with Darla.”

Lizzie made a face. “That's not going to be easy, Teensy. We both know that Molly feels she needs to help Bob out here and since Darla is his grandchild, nothing we can say will change her commitment.”

“What if Darla isn't his grandchild?”

“Do you know that for a fact?” Somehow Lizzie couldn't believe that Darla would come up with such an audacious plan. Surely the threat of being found out would prevent her from lying about it.

“No. Just thinking out loud. I do think she's trying to pull a fast one, though, and I'll bet money is at the root of it.”

Just what Lizzie had been thinking. “But Bob's not wealthy.”

“We all know that, and once Darla saw where the dollars lay, that would be when she took a gander at Molly's home sweet home, she latched onto Molly's emotions right quick. I'll bet your boots that's what that girl is after. Money. Not family. It was never about family.”

Lizzie sat back and took a deep breath. Teensy certainly was on a roll and had clearly taken a deep disliking to Darla. Was that the basis of the distrust? Or could Teensy sense deeper goings-on?

Their orders arrived and Lizzie made busy with buttering a roll and checking out her field greens salad, giving her time to think things through. Teensy's face had lit up at the sight
of her biscuit-topped chicken potpie, and she had already tucked into it by the time Lizzie came up with an answer.

“I don't know if I totally agree with you, but what do you propose doing about it all?”