Little Shop of Homicide (19 page)

Since my body type was more apt to be seen in a Rubens painting than in a
Vogue
photo spread, I liked my clothes loose. It was my opinion that the only entity that should cling to another entity was plastic wrap. Which made me wonder why I had ever bought the damn shirt in the first place, let alone worn it tonight.

“You look fine.” Boone pulled me away from the mirror and into the library.

Draperies the color of expensive brandy pooled on the hardwood floor, and a nutmeg-colored leather sofa and matching chairs were arranged in front of a fireplace. An oak table held a crystal vase full of chrysanthemums and asters, and brass lamps gave off a warm glow.

“Have a seat,” Boone invited. “So at last we get to meet the mysterious cowboy who rode in on his white horse to rescue you.”

“What do you mean ‘at last’?” I chose the chair nearest the warmth. “You met him Tuesday afternoon, not ten minutes after I did.”

“Right.” Boone sank gracefully into the other chair.

I frowned. That left the couch for Poppy and Jake to share.
Geesh!
When had I become such a jealous shrew? I had never cared before who sat next to the men in my life. Which, by the way, Jake was not.

“He couldn’t get out of there fast enough that day.” Boone adjusted the creases in his khakis. “And you’ve been strangely reluctant to talk about him.”

“That’s not true,” I protested. “There’ve just been more important things to discuss. Like how to keep me from going to jail.”

Before Boone could respond, we heard Poppy yell a
greeting as she let herself in. She burst into the room, gave me a hug, and plopped down on the sofa.

Poppy had come directly from the bar and was wearing skintight jeans that laced up the side, exposing tantalizing glimpses of porcelain skin, and a black bell-sleeved knit shirt held together by a single satin ribbon tied between her breasts. Suddenly my choice of clothing didn’t seem quite so risqué.

After we all had helped ourselves to a drink—I stuck to soda, but my friends had martinis—Boone and Poppy tried to grill me about Jake. When I didn’t cooperate, they changed tactics and interrogated me about the case. I put them off, saying we’d go over everything once Jake arrived.

Usually the three of us found enough to say to occupy us for hours, but tonight the conversation seemed forced and stilted. It was as if we were all waiting for the main event. I hated that Jake had already changed the dynamic among us.

Squirming, I checked both my cell phone and my watch. No messages, and Jake was already nearly twenty minutes late. Maybe he’d changed his mind and wasn’t coming after all.

Sad to say, I realized that might be best after all. Jake and I needed to keep our relationship impersonal. Meeting my friends and becoming a part of the group was not the way to do that. So why was I upset by his absence?

The next ten minutes dragged by as I tried to pay attention to Poppy’s story about her father’s latest outrage against humanity. Finally the doorbell rang, and relief surged through me. When Boone sprang from his seat, it was all I could do not to follow him out to the hallway.

Gripping the arms of my chair so I’d remain seated, I heard the front door open and a muffled exchange between the men. A few seconds later Jake stepped into the den. His eyes immediately found mine, and he shot me a devastating grin.

I beamed back at him, not sure why we were both so darn happy.

After Boone introduced Jake to Poppy, he asked him, “What can I get you to drink?”

“A beer would be great.” Jake seemed distracted as he studied the brimming bookcases built into three of the four walls.

“Sam Adams okay for you?” Boone asked, and when Jake nodded, Boone ordered Poppy, “Help me bring in the munchies.”

“Let me.” I put down the ginger ale I had been sipping to soothe my traumatized gastric system.

I started to rise, but Poppy was already up. With a wave and a wink, she followed Boone into the kitchen.

Once my friends were out of earshot I said to Jake, “If you were busy tonight, we could have postponed this meeting.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized they sounded petulant. “I mean, I know you have other things to do than just help me.” Shoot! That hadn’t been much better. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I don’t know if I ever thanked you, but I really am grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”

“You’re very welcome.” Jake’s deep voice filled the room and I felt goose bumps form on my arms. “Sorry I was late, but I had to wait for a call.”

“No problem.” Was the call from his ex-wife? I clamped my lips shut and concentrated on not asking that question. “Have a seat.”

Jake examined the options, then folded his long frame onto the chair opposite mine. For a moment, he rested his head on the back and closed his eyes, a position that displayed his handsome profile.

My mouth went as dry as a week-old doughnut, and I drank in the appealing picture he presented sitting there. Studying him like that, I saw the lines of pain around his eyes and mouth. He never spoke about his injured leg, but I’d bet the dime store’s next mortgage payment that reminders of it were seldom far from his thoughts.

I glanced up and caught Jake looking at me, his expression unreadable. At that moment Poppy came in with a serving platter full of hors d’oeuvres, saving me from having to come up with something to say.

She held out the silver tray to Jake with her right hand and offered him a napkin with her left. “See anything you like?” Her voice was sultry and she fluttered her eyelashes. When he froze, she giggled and said to me, “Boone was right. He’s quite a hunk.”

Jake tipped an imaginary hat at Poppy and said, “Why, thank you, ma’am.”

Poppy giggled again, then put the platter down on the table and curled up on the couch. A second or so later, Boone returned. He handed a bottle of beer to Jake and refilled Poppy’s martini glass from a silver shaker before settling next to her on the sofa.

Poppy looked around brightly. “So, who wants to go first?”

Three pairs of eyes turned to me and I said, “I guess I will.” It took me a minute to organize my thoughts. “Let me see, we all know everything up until when Boone and I came back from the fund-raiser, right?” All of them nodded their heads. “Well, since I can’t remember who knows what, let’s go over the whole lot from that point on.”

“Wait!” Boone’s cry made me choke on the sip of soda I had just taken.

Poppy sprang to her feet and pounded me on the back, while Boone darted to the desk in the corner of the room and dragged back a poster-size white rectangle. He snapped open the easel and set the board in front of us. Dashing back to the desk, he rummaged in the drawer. “I think it’s a good idea for us to write everything down,” he explained as he rejoined the group, handing us each a different color erasable marker.

“Good idea.” I loved a good list, and charts always made me happy. As I explained about Joelle’s false identity, recounted Woods’s second visit to the dime store to
harass me, and outlined the mayor’s claims of a new girlfriend providing an alibi, I jotted the information on the whiteboard using bullet points. I finished with, “Any questions or anything you all want to add?”

“Nope.” Poppy licked the Brie oozing off the edge of her cracker.

“That about covers it.” Jake took a swig of his beer.

“Hardly,” Boone snapped. “What about the good doctor? Don’t tell me no one talked to him. I’m sick and tired of everyone giving him a free pass.”

“They don’t,” Poppy objected. “It’s just that he’s had such a hard time with that mother of his, and he does so much good for the community.”

Boone ignored Poppy’s protest and demanded of me, “Did you or did you not go to see Dr. Do-Right? I bet you chickened out, didn’t you?”

“No. I did not chicken out.” I hesitated. Talking about Noah was still hard and my already upset stomach clenched at the prospect of describing our encounter. I looked hopefully at Jake, but his expression said it was my story to tell.

“I heard Noah would be at the Manor for a shelter committee meeting today.” Sticking out my chin, I straightened my spine and prayed my voice wouldn’t betray my feelings. “So Jake and I drove out to the restaurant and talked to him this afternoon.”

“Oh, my God!” Boone cried happily. “You faced off with him in public?”

“It was perfectly civilized,” I corrected.

Boone fanned himself with both hands. “I wish I had been a fly on the wall for that reunion. The women on that committee must have been all atwitter in overdrive when you walked in the door.”

“Yes,” I replied tersely, hoping to move on. “They were surprised.”

“That has to be the biggest understatement of the year.” Boone didn’t even try to suppress his grin. “I bet
the fussin’ and whisperin’ could be heard all the way into the next county. I’m surprised I didn’t receive a Tweet about your appearance.”

“Maybe you missed it.” I scowled at my friend and muttered, “They were certainly texting. I’m sure if you check Facebook, you’ll get the full report.”

“So?” Poppy stuffed the cracker into her mouth and spoke around it. “What happened?”

“Did Noah agree to talk to you?” Boone jumped in. “Was he jealous you were with someone as hot as Jake?”

I shifted uncomfortably and answered before they could embarrass me further. “Noah was very cooperative. He told us that he’d been delayed at his clinic and didn’t arrive at the hotel until after the room service waiter had already found Joelle’s body.”

“Really?” Boone drew out the single word and rolled his eyes, indicating his skepticism. “And you two believed him why?”

“Not necessarily,” I replied, in our defense. “I’m just telling you what he said.”

“Good.” Boone nodded to himself, satisfied. “Dr. Devious fools a lot of people into thinking he’s a selfless martyr, but not me.”

Poppy playfully whacked Boone’s upper arm with the back of her hand and said to me, “I take it if you didn’t trust Noah’s account of what happened that day, you checked it out? Talked to his staff?”

Jake, who had seemed lost in his own thoughts up until now, said, “I did. Is there something wrong with Underwood’s nurse?” he asked. “She seemed sort of sickish, like a strong wind might blow her away.”

“Not that I’ve heard.” Poppy shook her head. “But about a year or so ago, Eunice decided to improve herself and lost a lot of weight.” Poppy drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Unfortunately, she’s one of those women who looks better chubby. Now she resembles a flattened piñata—one with all the candy gone.”

Boone and I nodded our agreement.

“Did Eunice or Yale verify Dr. Deceitful’s version of what happened?” Boone eyed Jake thoughtfully. “Or wouldn’t she even talk to you?”

Jake explained how he’d gotten Noah’s staff to tell him about that day, ending with, “So, although Eunice couldn’t say how long Underwood stayed around waiting for the phantom patient, Madison was able to vouch for the fact that a Ms. Brown had indeed called.”

Poppy furrowed her brow and said, “But his behavior does sound sort of suspicious, doesn’t it? I mean letting his staff go like that. You’d think he’d at least want his nurse to hang around, since it was a female patient.” She took a sip of her martini before adding, “I guess that means Noah’s still on our suspect list.”

“Hey, don’t look so sad,” I chided her. “There’s no such thing as too many other people with good motives.” I smiled, but a part of me mourned the news. Just when I thought I might have misjudged Noah, Jake’s interview with Eunice indicated that there was a good chance he couldn’t be trusted.

“Definitely,” Boone agreed, visibly happy that Noah’s innocence couldn’t be proved.

“So, what do we do next?” I asked, eager for a change of subject.

“I need to take a closer look at the hotel and the crime scene.” Jake’s expression was sober. “I just wish I knew how I could do that without revealing my interest to the Kansas City cops. I don’t want Woods to get another burr up his butt.”

“You’ll think of something.” Poppy tilted her head. “From what Dev tells me, you’re a wonderful investigator and extremely clever.”

“Right,” Boone chimed in, with a conspiratorial grin. “Dev says she’s really impressed with how you handle yourself in situations.”

“I did not say that.” I looked back and forth between them, incredulous at their outrageous lies. What were
they up to? Next thing I knew they’d be telling Jake about their plan to throw Woods off my scent by showing him I already had a boyfriend, and thus had no interest in Noah.

Boone turned back to Jake. “Dev doesn’t want you to know how much she admires and likes you.”

“That’s nice to hear.” Jake cocked a brow at me, plainly amused by my friends’ blatant attempts to play matchmaker. “I never would have guessed.”

“Well, we figured you should know.” Poppy’s expression was virtuous.

Narrowing my eyes, I lasered them both a warning look. One that said I’d kill them if they didn’t stop this immediately.

My visual threat didn’t faze them. Poppy and Boone went on while I searched my mind for something to distract them. Finally I said, “Poppy, weren’t you going to talk to Cyndi Barrow about Joelle?” It was lame, but the only way I could think of to change the subject.

“Shoot!” Poppy sobered. “I forgot all about it. I’ll try to track her down tomorrow.”

“What should I do?” Boone asked.

I looked at Jake, who shrugged and said, “I can’t think of anything right now. We’ve talked to everyone you three thought might be a suspect. Unless you’ve come up with someone else?”

Boone and Poppy shook their heads.

I heard the quaver in my voice when I asked, “Does this mean there’s nothing more we can do?” A flicker of fear darted up my spine. Would Woods have his way and see me in prison?

“No,” Jake assured me. “The crime scene will probably give me some new leads to follow.”

After that, the conversation became more general and Jake joined in. His wit and ability to laugh at himself made it seem like he’d been a part of our group forever.

Boone shared lawyer stories, Poppy told about some
of her more outrageous bar patrons, and Jake gave us an idea of how dumb criminals could be.