Little Shop of Homicide (10 page)

Taking a deep breath and straightening my spine, I swooped into the room. I hadn’t spoken to Nadine since the day she told me I was no longer eligible to become a CDM member. Since we traveled in completely different circles, avoiding her had been easy. Avoiding Noah had been a bit trickier, but it’s amazing what you can accomplish if you really set your mind to it.

Nadine’s face registered shock when she recognized me, but it took her only a split second to get her expression back under control. “Devereaux, my dear, what a surprise. I don’t recall seeing your name on the guest list.” Her voice oozed condescension.

“Boone brought me.” I casually seated myself in a rickety Sheraton chair with tattered cross-stitched Victorian floral upholstery, hoping it wouldn’t collapse under me. “I wanted to talk to you about Joelle Ayers’s murder.”

Nadine ignored me and pouted at Boone. “Surely you knew how awkward Devereaux’s presence would be for me.”

“I’m sorry, my dear.” His contrite smile had a steel edge. “But surely you know how difficult it is for me to turn down a damsel in distress.”

“Of course.” Nadine’s voice was thick with disgust. “And Miss Devereaux here is so-o-o-o-o good at manipulating innocent young men.”

Seriously? I clenched my jaw, but managed to keep my tone civil. “Just answer a couple of questions and I’ll leave quietly.”

“And if I don’t give in to your demands?” Her eyes flashed in outrage.

“Then I create a scene.” I knew she dreaded that above almost anything else—except maybe me, or any other woman, marrying her son. “There are a lot of people out there who would love to tell the story of me accusing you of misusing CDM funds. In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw the society editor from the paper.”

“But that’s a lie,” Nadine yelped.

“And your point is?” I enjoyed how astonished she seemed that someone would fib about her. She did it to others quite frequently.

Nadine looked to Boone. A smile lurked at the corners of his perfect mouth as he said, “I’d tell her what she wants if I were you.”

“Very well.” Nadine clenched her teeth. “Since you think it’s a good idea, dear boy.”

“I’ve heard you weren’t pleased with your son’s engagement to Joelle.” I quickly began my interrogation before she could change her mind.

“It’s no secret I wasn’t happy.” She shrugged. “But I knew Noah would come to his senses and never go through with the wedding.”

“Really?” I raised my right eyebrow, a trick that I had mastered in graduate school and put to good use in my previous career. “How about that faux wedding invitation you passed around at your prayer circle meeting? That sure sounded like you were upset.”

“That was just a little joke.” Nadine’s expression remained serene. “No one took it seriously.”

“But you didn’t like Joelle.” I gave her my most maddening grin. “Did you?”

“I didn’t have anything personally against her.” Nadine crossed her legs and stretched her arm across the back of the settee. “But she wasn’t right for my son. He needs someone who can be a hostess for him. Someone with the right background with whom he can start a family. Someone like you were before your father let greed and stupidity ruin your name. Joelle couldn’t even recognize a fish knife.”

“So you’re saying she was out of her depth at a formal dinner party.” I ignored the dig about my father, wondering instead if Joelle’s lack of table-setting knowledge was significant. “That’s not exactly unusual in this day and age.”

“Joelle Ayers would have been out of her depth in a mud puddle.”

I was ambivalent about hearing Nadine tear down Noah’s deceased fiancée. Part of me, the part that had never let him go, was glad his mother didn’t like Joelle any better than she had liked me. The more compassionate side of me winced at hearing the dead woman being maligned.

Nadine must have taken my silence as a sign of weakness, one she was quick to exploit. Her smile was like an ice pick when she said, “As you know, my dear, Noah tends to make poor choices when selecting his girlfriends. So naturally I was concerned.”

“You know, Nadine, dear, if I’ve learned anything in the past thirteen years, it’s that you can’t change the length of your legs, the width of your hips, or what your parents did in the past.”

“How Zen of you. Of course, you have no choice, considering your background.”

“Exactly.” I saw her countenance darken when I didn’t fall apart at her attack on my lineage, and used her displeasure to my advantage. “But enough about me. Back to Joelle and your relationship with her.”

“I don’t know why you’re so interested in her. She’s dead.” Nadine’s voice was teeming with triumph. “Joelle is no longer anyone’s problem.”

“Except for the person who killed her.” I shouldn’t have been surprised by Nadine’s attitude, but I was. “Which brings me to my last question. Where were you Saturday night between six and seven?”

“Are you accusing me of murder?” Nadine’s self-control snapped. “I wouldn’t dirty my hands on that little piece of white trash.”

“White trash?” I glanced at Boone, who seemed as confused as I was. “I had heard that Joelle was part of the country club set.”

“Be that as it may.” Nadine’s eyes glittered with loathing. “No matter how expensive her clothes were, where she lived, or what kind of car she drove, she was nothing but a two-bit tramp.”

“Really?” Interesting, but then again maybe not. Nadine had probably said the same thing about me. “What makes you think that?”

“Because unlike my son”—Nadine gave an elegant snort—“I am able to tell the genuine article from the ones who are just pretending.”

Not having an answer to that statement, I repeated the most important question. “So, where were you Saturday night between six and seven?”

“I was at an anniversary party, as were our esteemed police chief and his charming wife.” Her words rang with confidence, but I could sense the relief coming off her as I walked away.

“C
ouldn’t you have just died at Nadine’s expression when you walked in the parlor?” Boone chortled as we drove away from the party.

“That was a moment to treasure, all right.” I felt a surge of satisfaction at having bested a longtime nemesis. Even if she had an alibi, Nadine had spilled her guts to us.

“She sure hated Joelle.” He curled his upper lip in an imitation of his hero, Elvis Presley. “Not that that was a big shock.”

“Nope.” I stared out the windshield as we zipped past the old homesteads—their neat barns, railed fences, and snow-covered fields reminding me of a simple, less-complicated time.

Boone was taking the long way back so we could rehash our triumph, but I was worried that Jake might arrive at my house before we did. Just before we’d left the mansion, I had slipped into the bathroom to call him, and I told him I was on my way home. Not that it was a big secret that Jake was coming over; I just didn’t want Boone to jump to the wrong conclusion. Or even the right one.

“Nevertheless, it was still good to hear Nadine’s take on Joelle.”

“Yep.” I blew out such a gigantic breath of regret that condensation formed on the inside of the Mercedes’ passenger-side window. “But I wish she had been alone that night. I really, really wanted her to be the murderer.”

“Nadine could have hired someone,” Boone offered, reaching over to pat my knee. “She doesn’t seem like the type who’s willing to get her own hands dirty.”

“Maybe.” I leaned my head against the back of the seat. “But the way Joelle was killed seems too personal for that. Too full of hatred.”

“True.”

“Will you call Poppy when you get home and fill her in?” I knew our friend would be chomping at the bit to hear about our evening.

“Sure.” Boone looked at me strangely. “I thought you’d want to talk to her.”

“Uh.” Shoot. I should have had an excuse ready. “My cell is dead. I forgot to charge it. And if I use the landline, I might wake Gran up. Her bedroom is right off the kitchen.”

“I keep telling you to get a new cordless system like mine. It has three bases that you can plug in at any electrical outlet.” Boone steered the big sedan into the lane leading to my property. “That antique you have on the wall is from the Stone Age. I can’t even imagine living with only one phone.”

“And I keep telling you, not only can’t I afford unnecessary extras, but Gran has problems coping with changes.”

“Oh. Right.” Boone stopped the car in front of the steps. “Sorry.”

Phew!
There was no strange vehicle parked in my drive. Now I just had to get rid of Boone before Jake arrived. “Thanks for giving me the fund-raiser ticket and for the ride and for helping me with Nadine.” I quickly hopped out of the car. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And tell Poppy I’ll call her in the morning.”

I breathed a sigh of relief when Boone’s Mercedes vanished into the shadows, but before I made it into the house, a set of headlights pierced the darkness. Had Boone seen my late-night visitor’s arrival?

Even if I hadn’t been expecting him, I would have known Jake was the owner of the truck that pulled up next to me. The massive Ford F-250 exuded strength and toughness and determination, traits it was clear that Jake possessed in spades.

The pickup was as shiny as if it had just left the dealership, and since I knew that unlike a lot of men who drove huge trucks, Jake actually used his on a working ranch, I wondered if he had washed it just for me. However, I quickly dismissed that thought as wishful thinking. There might be a physical attraction between us, but polishing his truck would imply more than that. Which was silly, since we’d met less than twelve hours ago.

The passenger door popped open, and Jake leaned out. “Hop in.”

“Uh.” My heart pounded erratically. Yep. The magnetism was still there. “Why? Uh, I mean, why don’t you come into the house?”

“We might disturb your grandmother.” He grinned. “If she’s anything like Tony, she hits the sack right after the ten o’clock news.”

“Good point.”

Jake was even more stunningly handsome than I remembered. His thick ebony hair curled over the collar of his denim shirt, giving him an untamed, rebellious appearance that his full, tempting lips reinforced. The close quarters in the pickup’s interior were not a good idea if I wanted to maintain control. “But—”

“Come on.” His voice held a silky persuasion. “We’ll go for a ride.”

“Um.” I searched for an excuse. “I should check on Gran. She’s had a rough time with what’s happened.”

“We won’t be long.”

“Well, it is a pretty night.” Giving in, I gathered the
full skirt of my dress, placed my foot on the lighted step, and used the grab handle just inside the doorframe to hoist myself up. Geesh! It was like scaling a rock wall to get into the damn cab. Which was probably no problem for Jake, who was redwood tall and superhero muscular. But for me at five-six, with no upper-body strength, it was a major undertaking. Maybe I should start lifting weights.

“Need some help?” His sapphire eyes glinted with amusement as I settled myself into the brown saddle-leather passenger seat.

“Not now,” I huffed. “But next time maybe you can throw down a ladder.”

He chuckled good-naturedly. “So how was the shindig at the Lee Mansion?”

“Decadent, but interesting.” The cab was toasty warm and I unbuttoned my leather coat. “Nadine Underwood detested her son’s fiancée.”

“From what you told me this afternoon, I’m sure her dislike of her future daughter-in-law wasn’t a revelation to you.”

“No.” I studied him as he turned down a gravel road that wound charmingly between stands of snow-laden fir trees. His striking blue eyes were fringed with dense black lashes that any woman would envy, and that I could achieve only with an eyelash curler and several coats of expensive mascara.

“Did you get anything else from her?” Jake stopped the pickup in front of a frozen pond, but didn’t turn off the engine.

His blatant waste of fossil fuels and flagrant disregard for our environment shocked me for a moment, until I realized that I had been so brainwashed by everyone in the city preaching about “going green,” I had forgotten that those of us who lived in the country were green long before most people ever thought about it. We’d been growing our own food, composting, using windmills
for power, hanging clothes out to dry, drinking well water rather than bottled, borrowing from neighbors, and using natural cleaning products for hundreds of years. To my mind, every once in a while we were entitled to keep our motors running.

“Nadine claims she was with the chief of police during the time of the murder.”

“Alibis don’t always prove someone is innocent,” Jake assured me.

“That’s what Boone said.”

“Boone?”

“Boone St. Onge,” I explained. “He’s the guy who came into my store just before you left. I forgot that I didn’t get a chance to introduce you.”

“Are you and St. Onge involved?” Jake’s voice was even, but a crease had formed between his eyebrows and his hands were fisted.

“He was the one who took me to the fund-raiser and helped me question Nadine.” I considered claiming Boone as my boyfriend in order to combat the ripple of excitement I felt at the realization that Jake was interested in whether or not I was free. But knowing how fast he would find out the truth, I discarded the idea. “He’s been one of my best friends since he sliced off my braid in kindergarten.”