Murder on Wheels (15 page)

“She's messing with you. I'm sure someone has told her that we've been doing this geocaching thing with Amy and Justin. Probably Amy told her.” He took a last bite of the slice on his plate and gave the rest to Emma. “You have to stop letting her play you.”

As I ate my pizza, I thought about his words. The explanation sounded logical, and even Esmeralda had admitted she could piece together bits of information she heard from different sources to figure out what people needed to hear. But for some reason, the hair at the back of my neck was standing up and I had goose pimples on my arms.

“So, are we on for Sunday? Justin wants us to meet at the parking lot at the trailhead. That way if you two are still snippy, we can separate you for the ride home.” Greg finished off his beer.

“I'll be good if she is.” I picked up the plates and took them to the sink, putting the leftover pizza in one box, keeping two pieces out for my lunch tomorrow. Greg would take the rest to the station, and Toby and Tim would scarf down the leftovers. It was like having kids to feed. Big, hungry kids with size-ten feet.

He put his arms around me and gave me a tight squeeze. “I know you'll be good. So, do you want to watch a movie? I can't promise when or if you'll see me again between now and Sunday.”

“Let me finish cleaning up and I'll be right in. I'll even let you choose the movie.” I leaned into his body for a second, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

“You will probably regret those words,” he whispered into my ear.

I nodded. “I already do.”

We stayed like that for a long minute, then he kissed me on the neck and left the room, Emma on his heels. During an investigation, we rarely got couple time except for the No-Guilt-Sunday time he'd implemented last year. And even then, if there was an emergency, all bets were off. Tonight, I wasn't going to worry about anything but spending time together. I could pry him for information tomorrow when I stopped by the station with a slice of cheesecake or two.

When I entered the living room, he sat in the middle of the couch, Emma on one side and a small portion of the seat cushion for me on the other. I slipped into the space and hit Play on the DVD remote. “So, you never told me why you're able to have date night in the middle of the week. Is John out of town for some reason?”

“He's trying to deal with the information you brought to my attention this morning. He says thanks, by the way. He didn't mean it when he said it, but I know his heart is in the right place.” Greg leaned back into the couch and put his arm around me, pulling me closer.

“What's he deciding?” I put my ear over his heart and listened to the strong, comforting beat.

He put his hand on my head, stroking my face very gently as if I were a china doll to be protected from crashing and breaking. “Whether to drop the charges on Austin. Apparently John was convinced that Austin did in Mary Jane as well, and now that we found her, he's in the clear, so the ‘kill one, kill them all' motive doesn't really apply.”

We both left the other question hang in the air without an answer.
If Austin didn't kill Kacey, who did?

I
hadn't slept well, my dreams filled with wandering kittens that kept getting into harm's way. When I woke early, I dressed in my running clothes and took Emma out for a quick run hoping to clear my head of the stress dreams. I still opened the shop early.

After the morning commuter customers left, I dialed Aunt Jackie's number. Three rings and she answered. “What? Is there a problem in the shop?”

“No, there's a problem with Josh.” I could hear her favorite morning show in the background.

The sigh was long and loud. “What's he done now?”

“Come down to the shop and I'll show you. You really have got to get a handle on him.” I clicked off and waited for her to make her way downstairs.

I read another chapter in the mystery I'd been nursing along not wanting the story to end, when I heard the door close in the office. She pushed through the doors, still dressed in her lounging clothes, a silk robe, silk pajama top and long pants, and her fuzzy slippers. With her hair wrapped up with a matching turban, she looked like a gently aged Lucille Ball, but with more makeup. She might not have gotten dressed to talk to me, but she had put on the full face treatment. Foundation, eye shadow, liner, mascara, and lipstick. She poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter sipping it. “So, what's so important?”

I pushed the letter toward her. “I got this on my door last night. Did you guys talk about me during your meeting?”

She pulled her reading glasses up off the chain where they hung around her neck and read the citation. “He didn't have the authority of the commission for this. I mean, we talked about someone who appeared to be watering his or her lawn, but I never got the impression it was you. You hate gardening.”

“I know. And it wasn't me. My lawn is as dry as everyone else's. I think your committee needs to get their facts straight before they go off issuing citations.” I grabbed the paper back from her and started waving it. “This is America. I have rights. What about innocent until proven guilty? Let Josh prove I water my lawn. Does he have pictures?”

She gently took the citation from my hand. “Calm down, dear. I told you it wasn't the committee. I'll handle this and Josh. You just relax.”

“Okay, so that was over the top. I just hate being accused of things I didn't do. Especially since we both know this is about your date on Friday.” I studied her. “You will tell him about you and Harrold, right?”

“Now, don't go all crazy on me. Telling him to back off you is one thing, but hurting his feelings by telling him about Harrold and me is quite different.” My aunt tucked the letter into her robe jacket and took off her glasses. She sipped on her coffee.

“You know he did this because he suspects something is going on. He's vindictive.” I almost said a “little vindictive,” but nothing about Josh was little, unless you counted his emotional stability.

“You're probably right. I'm just not ready to talk about Harrold with Josh yet. I've been fair both ways, I don't talk about Josh to Harrold, either. I'm sure Harrold doesn't even care that I ever dated Josh.” She pushed a wayward curl off her face and back behind her ear. “If Josh comes over Friday night, tell him I've gone out. That's all. No details, no with whom, not even a guess about what movie or theater. The man needs to learn to respect my privacy.” And with that declaration, my aunt spun around on her fuzzy slipper and left. I'm sure it would have been a more satisfying exit if she'd had on shoes that actually allowed me to hear her stomp away.

With that problem solved—sort of—I returned to the
Kacey
page of my notebook. I knew I was missing something. I put a line through Austin and Sadie's names, but Austin's cross-out was much lighter than my friend's. As soon as I finished, the bell rang over the door and Sadie walked in the shop. If I'd believed in signs, this was a clear one that I was on the right track. Maybe Sadie's memories hid a clue even she didn't realize she knew.

Or maybe she was just responding to the voice mail I'd left her yesterday. I'd like to believe it was the former.

She slipped onto one of the stools and looked at me, putting her purse on the counter next to her. “Let me get this straight. You want me to develop a gluten-free dessert for your customers since the jerk and his now-deceased wife aren't opening up a dessert truck that could have run both of us out of business.”

“You have to admit, it's a good business decision. Besides, we just need one or two choices, besides the fresh fruit cup we offer now.” I smiled what I hoped was a winning smile when in fact it was probably serial killer creepy.

Sadie's shoulders sagged. “I'm being emotional about a business decision, aren't I?”

“You have a right to be emotional. Austin was a total butt to you. He led you on and stole your recipes. He should go to jail for being a bad man.” I poured her a cup of her favorite chocolate-flavored coffee and filled my own cup before I walked around and sat next to her. “If you don't want to help me with this, you don't have to do it. I'll figure out something else.”

She wiped away tears that had begun to fall. “I'll start playing around with some things. I have Kacey's notes, but I think instead of changing one of my recipes, I'll create something new and name it after her.”

“I think that would be lovely.” I put my arm around her and gave her a quick hug. “You are such a kind person.”

“A kind person who wants to murder Austin? I think that's the definition of unkind, although Pastor Bill seems to think my rage is perfectly human.” She pulled away from my hug and took a sip of her coffee. “I'd always thought I was above hate. I chair the South Cove Methodist Women Against Violence Committee, for gosh sake.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “You were hurt. Hurt people, like hurt animals, lash out at times.” I was glad Toby or Greg wasn't here listening to Sadie's rambling. They might take her anger out of context and instead of Austin sitting over at the station, she'd be sitting there. Sadie was likely to admit to being guilty for not being more understanding than actually committing a real crime.

“I appreciate you looking at all sides of the issue.” I returned to my coffee. “If you can't figure out something to make that we can serve, it's not a big issue. I don't get a lot of requests for gluten-free products.” Well, that was a big fat fib, but I didn't want to make her feel bad.

“I'll figure out something. It will help me take my mind off poor Austin. I can't believe Greg is still holding him in that cell. Doesn't he have to charge him or let him go?”

“I think the DA is the one actually holding off on releasing him. It's not like he hasn't disappeared before.”

Sadie waved her hand, pushing away the thought. “That was when he was a kid. She lured him into helping her escape. And you know some people will do anything for love.”

I turned toward the door, where the bell had announced Toby's arrival. He looked like he'd been rode hard and put away wet, or in layman's terms, like crap. His usual crisp white shirt was replaced with a rumpled T-shirt I was pretty sure I'd seen in the corner of the police station's locker room when Greg had asked me to get him his coat out of a locker last week. I felt Sadie turn to see what I was staring at and heard her audible gasp.

“I look that bad, do I?” Toby shook his head and went behind the counter. “I'm kind of in between places right now and didn't feel like going to Elisa's for a clean shirt this morning.”

“Well, I'd better be going.” Sadie air-kissed me and skittered to the doorway. “Lots of baking to do, you know.”

As she left, I turned back toward Toby, who now had a clean apron over the logo of the classic acid rock band. He looked better, but still drawn and pale. “What do you mean, you're in between places? I thought you were living with Elisa.”

“She kicked me out. Or we broke up. I can't remember the exact order, but as of ten o'clock Friday night, I've been homeless. I sublet my apartment to a buddy when I moved in with Elisa, and now I can't find a place that's close and in my price range. I'm pretty sure I'll have to look in Bakerstown or even Collinsville.”

“Oh Toby, I'm so sorry. How are you dealing with the breakup?” I wanted to ask about what he'd said a few days ago, that he thought she might be seeing someone else, but I didn't want to scare him off. It had taken him days to tell me this much.

“I miss that little girl like crazy.” Toby arranged the cups. “But it's over, so I guess I'd better deal with it. Hey, you don't know of any apartments going up soon, do you?”

“Did Josh rent out the second apartment next door?” My eyes drifted to the Antiques by Thomas building. Josh lived in one of the top floor apartments, but he had an extra.

“Kyle's living there now that he's moved out from his mother's house. I'd see if I could bunk with him, but he has a girlfriend who stays most nights.” Toby shrugged. “I'm sure I'll find somewhere to stay. For the last couple nights I've been at the station. Greg's been awesome about letting me crash there, but I need someplace I can sleep past six, since I get off patrol at two.”

“You could stay with me.” The words were out before I really thought about it, but I did have a guest room and a second bedroom upstairs that had a bed in it. The guest room was probably too frilly for Toby's taste, but he could get used to it until he had a place of his own.

“Not an option. I don't want to intrude on both of my bosses during our time off. I'd be out of one job or maybe both within the month. And I like working for you.” He grinned one of his special Toby Lady Killer smiles, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it.

“I was talking about the shed behind the garage. Miss Emily put a bathroom in with a shower. I guess she would get dirty painting and didn't want to come into the house that way.” I was turning over the idea. I had initially meant the main house, but this was a much better idea. “You would have a private entrance from the driveway. It's insulated, so you wouldn't be cold, and it has a window air-conditioning unit when it gets hot. The only downside is that it doesn't have a full kitchen, just a fridge.”

Toby seemed to be considering it. “I have a microwave in storage and I could move my bed, couch, and dresser in, and leave most of the other stuff in storage. Except my television. That would definitely have to come along.” He watched one of his regulars climb out of her car, her stacked high heels making it hard for her to walk on the brick sidewalk. “Can I move in tonight?”

“Of course. Just come by after you get off and I'll give you a key. I don't have much in there except some boxes of Miss Emily's that I haven't gone through yet. And we can put those in the loft.”

“You're sure it won't be a problem?” Toby ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, we already spend a lot of time together, maybe this is a little too close.”

I picked up my purse. “You'll be doing me a favor. Greg wants to turn the place into a home gym. Now I have an excuse to put it off.” I nodded my head toward the woman applying lipstick in the window reflection before she entered the shop. “Although, if you'd rather ask one of your friends . . .” I let the implication hang for a second.

“No way. I'm done with the dating life for a while. Elisa did a number on me, and I'm still not sure why we broke up. I really thought she was the one.” Toby let his smile drop, and I saw the pain in his face. “I'll never again date someone with a kid. I'm going to miss that cupcake.”

As the bell rang announcing his first customer, Toby put back on his fake smile and then nodded to me. “I'll see you after my shift. Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it.”

“Just no wild parties. Emma will have a cow if there are too many people running back and forth.” I squeezed Toby's arm and exited out the back into the office. Now I had another reason to stop by Greg's office. I needed to tell him about Toby moving in before the gossip got there first. And maybe I could find out more about what was going on with Kacey's murder investigation.

I exited out into the back parking lot that held Aunt Jackie's car and nothing else. Even when we were slammed by tourists in the summer, our back lot stayed open, mostly due to the fact the alley entrances were several blocks up and down the street. The town had blocked off several of the intersecting streets to build places for street vendors. Sometimes that made it hard to get out of the lot since tourists used the alleys for pedestrian walkways, but I rarely drove into town anyway.

I touched the large cement planters surrounding the building, empty except for the dirt. Typically these would be planted with spring flowers by now, pansies and primrose, with a few bulbs in the middle. This year, because of the lack of rain, we were holding off planting. Hopefully the delay wouldn't last all summer. I would hate to see South Cove without the flowers overrunning the planters that ran the length of Main Street.

Thinking of the drought made me think about Josh and his water citation. I narrowed my eyes and stared at the building next door. If I hadn't told Jackie to handle it, I would march right into his store and give him a piece of my mind. I turned and made my way through the narrow walkway that separated our two buildings. Glancing at the doorway of Antiques by Thomas, I realized the store was closed. Josh had cut his hours down for winter even more drastically than I had. Of course, maybe I got more coffee addicts and he was catering toward a more select clientele. And there was the thing about being less available making you more desirable. If anyone besides me worked the dead hours my shift typically held, I would be cutting my store's open hours, as well, but I didn't pay myself a salary. My monthly income was based on the profit margin. So the more hours I worked, the better for the bottom line.