Mission to Murder (11 page)

I could feel my face warm. “It was great talking to you.” I shoved four Gala apples into a plastic bag.

“Wait, there was one more thing.” She stepped in front of my cart.

“I have to go,” I said, even though I didn’t.

“This will only take a second.” She glanced around the produce section. Satisfied the corn was the only thing with ears, she leaned closer. “Who is the secret mystery author? Tell me it’s Stephen King. I love his books.”

“Stephen King isn’t a mystery author. His work is mostly horror, or sometimes thriller.” Of course this woman would know that if she actually shopped for books in my shop. “I’ve got a great selection of his works at the shop. You should come in and browse one day soon.”

Tina Baylor appeared crestfallen. “Oh. I thought maybe since he has a book coming out that week . . .”

“It’s a good guess, but even if it was Stephen King, I couldn’t tell you because my aunt hasn’t told me.” I shrugged. “I guess we’ll both be surprised.”

“You have to be kidding.” She glanced at her husband. “You’re telling me you don’t know? Is there even an author coming in that night?”

“Yes, there’s an author. I don’t know who it is because my aunt knows I can’t keep a secret to save my life.” I moved the cart around her. “I do hope I’ll see you on the reveal night. It should be fun.”

As I walked away, I heard Tina whisper to her husband, “You were right. She doesn’t know anything. What a waste. I guess Greg likes them dumb.”

I bit my lip to keep from responding. She knew I could still hear her. Now I knew who could stand to be married to Mayor Baylor, the meanest man in South Cove.

Someone just like him.

I kept my head down for the rest of the shopping trip, trying to get through the store without running into anyone who might know me, or my aunt, or even a person from South Cove.

I turned the corner into the laundry detergent aisle and ran my cart right into Mayor Baylor. He stood there staring at me, a box of fabric sheets in his hand. “Miss Gardner,” he almost hissed the words. “I wanted to tell you that even though Mr. Morgan has passed on, you’re still on notice with the historical commission. I’m sure they’ll find that your wall is nothing more than old bricks.”

Then he walked to the front of the aisle, where I saw Tina and the cart waiting for him. She narrowed her eyes as he came toward her and without another word, disappeared toward the checkout lanes.

I felt numb. Not only were Craig and Josh part of this campaign against the wall certification, now the mayor wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he supported their bid. I slowly walked through the rest of the store. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I’d reached the dairy section and was standing in front of a selection of cheese with the finish line in sight when I felt a touch on my shoulder.

Greg stood there, a package of steaks in his hand. He kissed me on the top of my head, then asked, “Did you get beer?”

G
reg followed me home and pulled his truck into the driveway right behind my Jeep, currently overheating from the drive. Steam poured out from under the hood.

He pulled sacks out of the back of the Jeep. “You need to go buy a new car.”

“I know. Hey, I’m going into Bakerstown again tomorrow to talk to Frank, maybe you could meet me over at the car dealership?” I grabbed the last of the groceries out of the car and closed the door with my hip.

Greg held the gate open for me. “Sorry, I’ve got a meeting with the DA at three and I’m still not ready. This case is becoming a royal pain in the butt.”

“Figures. Craig was a pain when he was alive, why would his death be any different?” I grinned as I put the key in the lock and swung the door open.

“Not funny, Suspect Number One.” Greg moved past me into the kitchen. I shut the front door with my foot and followed him after tossing my purse and keys on a table in the entry.

“Seriously, the rumor around town is that my boyfriend, the police detective, cleaned up the evidence against me.” I opened the back door and Emma charged inside. I knelt down and hugged my dog. “At least you love me, don’t you, sweetheart.”

He came close and pulled me up into a hug. “She’s afraid you won’t be around to feed her if you go to jail.”

“So not funny.” I gazed into his face and he leaned down and kissed me. The stress left my body and I melted into his strong arms.

After thoroughly kissing me, he touched my nose as he stared at me. “I didn’t mean it as funny. You still have the strongest motive for killing Craig.”

“Everyone in town had a motive for killing Craig.” I filled Emma’s food dish and took her water bowl to the sink. As I ran water to wash and fill the container, Greg pulled two longnecks from the refrigerator. He opened both, set mine next to the sink, and took a long swig out of his.

“I read somewhere the taste of beer sends messages to the pleasure sections of your brain.” He set the bottle down, then started unpacking the sacks. A part of me wondered if Aunt Jackie was right, that we were too comfortable with each other. The other part of me told that part to shut up and let the man work.

I set the water bowl down on Emma’s rug. She ignored it, choosing to stay focused on the dog food. “Then I guess all you need is a taste. Seems a waste of the rest of the bottle.”

Greg grinned and my heart fell to my feet. The man could seriously grin. “So true.” He put the package of steaks on the counter. “We’re grilling, right?”

“Is there another answer?” I sat at the table.

He joined me. “We could go out.”

“We just got back from Bakersfield, now you want to drive there again?” I pulled at the edge of the label on the bottle.

“Not really. We could go to Lille’s,” he offered.

“I ate breakfast there. I’d rather stay home.” I took a sip of the beer.

Greg nodded. “Me, too. I wanted to make sure you did want to stay put. My job forces us to stay in a lot. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I kind of figured it went with the territory when I started dating you. What am I going to say, quit your job?” Apparently Aunt Jackie’s comment bothered him more than I’d realized.

“You wouldn’t be the first.” Greg reached over and took my hand in his.

I squeezed. “I’m not Sherry.” I’d never met Greg’s ex but she’d called enough times when we were together I felt like I knew her. And not in a good way.

“Thank God for that.” Greg seemed to consider something. “You know I don’t think you killed Craig, right?”

I nodded. “I would worry if you did. But am I really the best suspect?”

Greg smiled, but his grin was sad. “You fought with him twice in front of witnesses hours before his death. He was trying to undercut the marketing funding for any business besides The Castle. And there are rumors he was working with Josh to get the mission wall project blackballed by the historical commission.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess I’d even find myself guilty.” I sighed. “Is it going to be okay?”

“I won’t let them railroad you. I’m going to find the killer, Jill. I promise.” His phone buzzed. “Tox reports are expected in soon. I’d better take this.”

I nodded. Watching him walk out of the room, a touch of fear grabbed me. I decided it was time to start cooking. Food cures all fear. Or something like that. I pulled the lettuce and salad ingredients out on the sink. Washing the Bibb lettuce made me think of Esmeralda and her cart filled with produce. And her direction—
Follow the path.
What path was I on? I’d been trying to keep the wall from being called a fraud, keep my aunt in line at the shop, and keep Greg from having to arrest me for Craig’s murder.

Which path was my salvation? One or all?

By the time Greg came back into the kitchen, I’d finished the salad, started some water to boil for a pasta salad, and seasoned the steaks with a spicy rub I’d picked up at the store. And I’d made my game plan for tomorrow.

He glanced at my progress and smiled. “I’ll go start the grill.”

“Did you get results?” I put my hand on his arm, slowing his movement.

He turned back and smiled. “I did. Not sure what they mean, but Jill, I think we have a lead. Finally.”

And then he left the kitchen whistling. Apparently, his lead wouldn’t be pillow talk.

Jackie’s car sat parked outside City Hall when I arrived the next morning. She’d driven less than a block and a half from the apartment. I’d walked almost a half mile. When she slipped out of the sedan, I saw the reason. She’d dressed in a little black dress with stiletto heels. Her spy outfit, apparently.

“Ready?” she whispered.

“After you.” My aunt made me smile most days, but she’d outdone herself this morning. She was carrying an honest-to-God briefcase. Probably one of Uncle Ted’s that she couldn’t bear to part with.

Amy smiled as we approached her desk. “Hey, guys, what brings you out on a Monday? I figured you’d be over in the city today.”

I gave Amy a quick hug. “Look, we’ve got a favor. We need to do some research in the building permits. Can we?”

Amy shrugged. “Sure. I’ve been working in the back files trying to get everything in order, but I haven’t finished the project. Do you know what you’re looking for? Miss Emily’s house or the shop building?”

Aunt Jackie leaned forward. “Neither. We want to look at the City Hall permits.”

“For this building?” Amy pointed downward. “Why?”

“We’re trying to confirm or deny what was on this property before the building was built. Have you done any research on the building?” I knew if anyone had researched the building, it would be my friend. Amy was a city planner by profession, but she cobbled together a full-time job here in South Cove by being the mayor’s receptionist as well as the city planner.

“Not much, but I can show you what I’ve got.” She keyed the phone so that calls would go directly to voice mail and grabbed some keys and a B
E
R
IGHT
B
ACK
sign from her desk.

We followed her down the hall to the last door, Aunt Jackie’s heels clicking on the fake marble floor. Entering the room, Amy flipped on the lights and I heard a faint skittering. My skin crawled. Mice. Stacks of boxes lined the room on three sides with a single table and a chair in the middle, the fluorescent lamp hanging loose out of the ceiling over the top. A row of black filing cabinets ran the fourth wall.

“Love what you’ve done so far,” I joked.

Amy swatted my arm. “Give me a break. You wouldn’t believe how much stuff I’ve already gone through. This used to be two rooms of boxes.”

She walked over to the filing cabinets. “I don’t have many of the early papers unboxed, but what I do have is here.” She touched the first cabinet.

“And if it’s not there?” Jackie asked, looking down at her black dress in horror, brushing imaginary dust off the hem.

Amy walked over to the far corner of the room. “I’m thinking these boxes. I tried to keep everything together, but I had an intern help with the moving, so who knows where she put things.”

I pointed Jackie to the file cabinet. “You take the files; I’ll go through the boxes.” I grabbed the top one and moved it to the table.

“I’ll get another chair.” Amy left the room.

Jackie sighed and opened the first drawer. “I guess I was assuming micro-filmed records. Who keeps actual paper?”

“South Cove, apparently.” I blew off the dust on the box as Amy slipped in with a chair.

I opened the first box and pulled out a file. “Hey, do you want me to try to sort as I’m going through this?”

Amy smiled. “Sure. I’ll bring in some file folders and you can put the paperwork into piles by year.” She stood at the door. “The mayor’s out today so I have some time. Do you want me to take a box to my desk?”

With Amy’s help, we’d be through this a lot faster. “If you don’t tell your boss what we’re looking for.”

Amy grabbed a box and walked back to the hallway. “Believe me, I don’t tell my boss a lot of things.”

Three hours later, we still hadn’t found any records or maps showing the beginnings of South Cove. I glanced at my watch. “I’m supposed to meet Frank over at the historical commission at noon.”

“Go. I’ll work here for another hour or so, but if I don’t find anything, I’ll come back tomorrow.” Jackie brushed dust off a file she’d brought out of the bottom drawer. “With a mousetrap.”

“Call me if you find anything.” I tucked the files I’d been collecting into the box and walked it out to Amy. She was on the phone. The last box I’d brought out she’d already scanned and separated into appropriate files, all ready to go into the next empty cabinet. She waved me off, making the “call me” sign with her hand.

My meeting with Frank Gleason was about as productive as the morning had been. He pretended we hadn’t had an appointment when I cornered him at the historical commission.

He walked away from me as I approached. “I have nothing new to report. You wasted a trip.”

“Have you seen their evidence?” I held up my phone. “I have a peek right here. We need to get ahold of the original document so the paper can be age-tested. You guys do that, right?”

Frank stopped in the middle of the hallway, glancing around me to see if anyone was within earshot. “Look, I’ll do what I can. But it’s becoming apparent that maybe what we thought was the mission site isn’t.” He held his hand up to silence my outcry. “I know you’re invested in the results. The commission has to examine both sides of the argument. I’m not saying the site isn’t old. The coins you found prove the site does have historic significance, but we have to face the possibility it’s not the original mission site.”

I pointed to my phone. “This is wrong. Either the drawing was manipulated or it’s an out-and-out lie. You believe the wall is the mission, I know you do.”

Frank put his hand on my arm, a gesture he’d never even attempted before. I didn’t think the guy touched anyone. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter what a person believes; it matters what we can prove. Right now, the proof is running against us.”

The story of my life
.

“Look, keep me informed. I’m digging through the city records now. My friend Amy knows a history professor who may be willing to help. You work on your end, and I’ll do the same. I’m not going down without a fight.” I stared at him. “I’m not kidding.”

He sighed. “I’ll keep digging. Maybe I can find an earlier map showing the mission location. There has to be one somewhere.” Frank walked away without another word.

I watched the man who’d thought his career had moved out of this satellite office into the big leagues of history protectors. He’d talked about writing a book about the find. He probably would have been able to retire and teach as he chose. Now he was about to become the laughingstock of his industry. And he blamed me for raising his hopes.

“I’ll call you,” I said to his retreating back. I must seem like a love-starved groupie. I didn’t care. The sun blinded me when I left the building. I hadn’t realized how dark the hallway had been until I’d stepped into the light. The sun’s warmth immediately lightened my mood. Maybe not to happy level, but at least I didn’t feel hopeless anymore.

I slid my sunglasses on and decided to drive to the car dealership. Time to rip the Band-Aid off.

As I pulled my Jeep into a parking spot at the dealership, a man came out to greet me. “My name’s Mitch, and my goal today is to leave you completely satisfied with your visit.”

I glanced around at the cars parked nearby. Maybe I’d stopped at the wrong place. No, it appeared to be a car dealership. I glanced at Mitch. “We’ll see.”

He chuckled. “Honestly, it’s the corporate greeting, but I’m getting pretty good at satisfying my customers. What brings you in today? You looking to trade up?”

I shook my head. “Trade, yes. Up, no. I don’t need anything fancy. I want a car I can drive and trust. No hidden compartments, no rearview cameras. Just a Jeep, like the one I have now.” I slapped the side of my vehicle.

“Well, satisfying you may be the easiest challenge I’ve had all day.” He pointed to the right side of the parking lot. “Let’s head over there and I can show you a few choices we have in a ‘non-fancy’ model.”

As we walked through the line of too bright and shiny cars, one thought kept circling. Laboratory results had come back and given Greg a clue. What could have been found in Craig’s body? The obvious answer was drugs. Buttoned-up Craig? Didn’t seem to fit. The man was so uptight he didn’t wear anything unstarched.

“Do you want to look at something else?” Mitch seemed worried. I’d been quiet too long I’d guessed.

I refocused on the here and now. Craig’s possible drug use would have to be thought through some other time. “Do you have one in blue?” I loved the simplicity of the Jeep, basic edition. My only upgrade, I wanted a hardtop this time. I climbed into the vehicle, loving the feel of the leather seats. Basic sure had improved since the last time I’d purchased a car. Of course, the price would reflect that. A CD player, stereo, and hands-free phone system, and I was in love. The fact it was a stick made it heaven.