Murder on Wheels (7 page)

Amy's phone chirped and she looked at the text message. She read it aloud. “The geo club is having a memorial out on the beach on Saturday at noon. Do you want to attend?”

I thought about my Saturday plans and decided laundry could wait another day. “I'll be there. Are you going?”

Amy nodded. “I'd like to get to know who Kacey was a little bit better through someone's eyes besides Austin.” She took a bite of her mashed potatoes and grinned. “We aren't really investigating, right? Greg can't find fault in us just going to pay our respects.”

I didn't know how Greg or Sadie would take our attendance, so I shoved a large bite of my salad into my mouth to avoid having to answer. By the time I could talk, Amy had moved on to another subject.

“So, Harrold and Jackie, huh?” Her eyes brightened. “I could totally see the attraction. Jackie needs a man who wants to wine and dine her.”

“She kind of has that with Josh.” I couldn't believe I was sticking up for the guy, but a part of me felt sorry for him. My aunt needed to figure out what she wanted and quickly so no one got hurt. Of course, I suspected that no matter what, someone would be holding the short straw, and if I had to bet, my money would be on the portly antique dealer. Josh and Jackie had little in common except the fact that Josh adored my aunt.

“You need to keep me in the loop. This is as good as the soap operas I was addicted to in college.” Amy pushed away the almost empty plate. “I guess I'd better head back to the office. My lunch hour was up five minutes ago.”

She pulled out cash for her part of the bill, but I waved it away. “I'll buy today. I was the one who asked you to come to lunch. See you soon.”

I watched as Amy walked through the crowded diner. I wasn't the only one watching her. The men in the diner were also watching my friend. Amy was oblivious to her effect on men; she always had been. But they noticed her.

Carrie tapped on the table with the folder that held our bill. “You get stuck with the check?”

Turning my attention back to the table, I shook my head. “Nope, I asked for it. Besides, Amy had to get back to work. I'd like a piece of that blueberry crumble and another iced tea. I've got a book I want to finish before I go home and take Emma to the Pet Palace.”

“Sure thing.” Carrie disappeared, and I opened my tote and took out the latest release in a fantasy series I'd been devouring for the last week or two. I had three chapters left, and since I'd given up my full day off tomorrow and now with plans on Saturday, I wanted to finish the book today.

When Carrie brought the dessert, I paused my reading to take a few bites, then went back to the story. When I reached the end, my crumble and my iced tea were also done. I packed up my stuff, left money for the check, and headed home to a list of chores including a shopping trip to Bakerstown.

Greg should be happy. Not one item on my list had anything to do with solving Kacey's murder.

I
'd made three of my four stops in town. Town, being Bakerstown, the county seat and the closest place to actually buy groceries and dog food, and it had a Linens and Loots, the last stop on my list. Well, the last stop before I pulled the car into Wheeler's, my favorite hamburger place.

Jen McKarn, the store manager, looked up when I entered the shop. “Uh-oh. Did Emma eat the sofa cushions again? I'm not sure I can sell you more without feeling like I'm contributing to her addiction.”

I crossed the gleaming floor and stood next to the counter where Jen had been working on a spreadsheet. “Nope, today I'm here for sheets for the new guest room. I finally found a handmade quilt for the room, and I need something besides the old sheets I've been using.”

“Do you have a picture of the quilt? Maybe we can match a color or two so you have coordinating options.” Jen closed the file and tucked it under her arm. “Besides, helping you shop will keep me from messing with this staffing schedule. I swear, the bigger we get, the more problems I have with keeping employees.”

I'd been lucky in the staffing department. My aunt had been my first employee, and she'd hired Toby. Sasha came from an internship we'd participated in for the Work Today program last winter. The program could have been a complete disaster, since the director had been killed less than a week into our project. But the good news was, he had been a complete jerk anyway and we'd gained an excellent employee. I realized Jen was staring at me, a clear sign I'd missed a question as my mind had gone on a walkabout. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you had a picture. I know you can't help me with staffing. You're perfect in that area.” She actually made air quotes when she said “
perfect
.”

“Hold on, I've got it on my phone. Besides, my shop's tiny compared to Linens and Loots. I didn't even think I needed Aunt Jackie's help.” I thumbed through photos until I found the one of the quilt. I handed her my phone. “Here it is. I'm thinking baby blue and maybe a rose?”

Jen studied the photo. “Very nice. The quilt looks like Sarah's work. Did you get this from the senior center's consignment shop over off of Grand?”

I stepped back, stunned. “How did you know that? I looked for months for that quilt. Then one of my regulars at the shop mentioned the store and they had several I wanted to buy.”

“Each quilter has their own style. Even if they use the same pattern, the materials are different, or the stitching. You should have asked me last time you were in the store for pillows. I would have recommended the shop.” Jen handed me back the phone and came around the counter. “Let's go look at what we've got in stock. I might need to special-order a color.”

As we walked toward the back, past the scented candles and cookware, I wondered if my new guest room would ever be done. New sheets, fluffy pillows and shams, and maybe a walnut nightstand with a pewter lamp. Oh, and a dresser. I pulled out my notebook and wrote down the still-to-purchase items. Once that was completed, we were at the linen shelves and Jen had found two sets of sheets in the exact colors I'd asked for.

“Perfect, you're a miracle worker.” I looked at my list and scratched off
find sheets
.

A middle-aged woman hurried up to us, frantically trying to get her arms through the company apron all the employees wore. “Ms. McKarn, I'm so sorry I'm late. I was helping the group set up the memorial, and then my car wouldn't start and I had to wait for a tow, and then the rental place was super-slow.”

Jen held up a hand. “I'm just glad you made it, Ginny. I had just started trying to find someone to cover your closing shift.”

I felt the pause in Jen's voice and realized the word she didn't say was “
again
.” I pressed my lips together so that she wouldn't see the smile and turned to examine a patterned sheet that wouldn't match anything I'd ever own.

“Oh, I'm so glad you didn't. I really need the hours. I was going to talk to you about increasing my shifts this week anyway.” Ginny Dean pulled out a piece of paper from her apron. “I can work any day but this Saturday. Next week, I'm clear on Monday morning until ten, Tuesday afternoon between one and four, and any time on Wednesday or Thursday. Unless the funeral is scheduled those days. And of course, I can't work the weekends.”

This time the sigh was audible. Jen put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. “Just put a note in my mail slot and I'll see what I can do. You know, we really need people to work full six-hour shifts.”

“I know, and I can on a few of these days.” Ginny peered at her crumpled schedule.

Jen glanced at me and rolled her eyes. “Let's just see what I can work out, okay?” She pointed to the back room entrance. “We got a delivery today of the new Home Chef cookware. Can you restock that section?”

Ginny's head nodded like one of those bobblehead dolls they give out at baseball games. Greg had a collection on a shelf in his office—they always creeped me out.

We watched her scurry away, and this time, Jen leaned against a display bin of pillowcases. “The woman has a big heart, but she's the worst at keeping a schedule. I'm always having to fill in part of her shift because of car trouble or this crazy group she belongs to.”

“Which makes me very glad I've got a small shop and there are only four of us.” I glanced at my watch. “The bad news is, there are only four of us, so like tomorrow I have to take Aunt Jackie's shift. If no one else is available, it's up to me to work.”

“The joy of management and ownership.” Jen laughed and reached for another set of sheets. “Of course, I'm just a manager. I don't get to make the big decisions, not like you.”

“Seriously, sometimes I wish I didn't have everything on my shoulders.” I grinned, picking up the blue and pink sheets. “Of course, I have Aunt Jackie to tell me what to do, so I guess I am in the same boat.”

“Hold on, let me see that photo again. I'm worried the rose is too pink for the quilt.” She held out her hand.

“I'm sure it will be perfect. No need to be so detailed.” Jen didn't drop her hand, so I handed her my phone.
Please be a match, please
.

I watched as she set the phone down on the sheets, turned it one way, then the other, and then shrugged. Jen handed me my phone back.

“I would go with a shade deeper in the blue, but if you're really happy with what we found, who am I to push?”

My shoulders dropped in relief. I imagined setting up the room tomorrow before going to work Aunt Jackie's shift. I might even take a quick picture and post it on my Facebook page. My joy decreased a bit with Jen's next words.

“Remember, you need to wash the sheets before you use them. They'll be all stiff if you don't.” Jen looked at the list. “You want to look at pillows and shams today? We have a pretty set of cream crocheted pillowcases that would be perfect.”

I nodded and followed her to the next station.

By the time I'd stuffed my too-hot-to-handle credit card into my wallet and the bags of fluffy warm linens into the car, I felt worn to the bone. I'd not only purchased new fluffy pillows for the guest room, but had added on new ones for my room, along with a Memory Foam mattress pad for my older mattress that Jen had sworn by.

I'd planned on a quick in and out, but instead had spent over twenty minutes in the store. My cold items from the grocery were stuck in a cooler in the back of the Jeep with ice packs for the drive home. I hadn't purchased ice cream, so I quickly calculated my success at stopping at Wheeler's before I left town. My growling stomach made the final decision, so I just hoped I had packed enough ice to keep my half gallon of milk and the sea bass I'd bought chilled. On tonight's dinner menu? A mushroom and Swiss burger on their homemade buns with an order of steak fries and a large vanilla milk shake. With the amount of calories, fat grams, and sugar, I could survive being locked in a cave for a week before I'd start losing weight.

Arriving home, my stomach filled and my hunger sated, I still had half of my milk shake left. After unloading and unpacking the groceries, I threw the sheets into the wash and took the shake and a new book out onto the porch with Emma. We watched the light dim as the sun sank over the ocean.

The next morning, I awoke with the sun, dressed in running clothes, and sipped a cup of coffee before I took Emma for a run. She sat at the back door, a small whine coming out of the back of her throat every three minutes. Finally, I set my cup in the sink and picked up her leash.

The morning was glorious. The sun bright but not hot. The beach sand clean from the last high tide but with just enough uncovered treasures that Emma was intrigued. Since we were alone, I let her off the leash and she ran to the shoreline, walking in the waves that lapped the edge of the world. When I reached the place where Kacey's body had been found, I stopped. Now around the entire section, still barricaded with yellow tape, was a ring of flower arrangements and candles. And on each of the glass candle holders was a picture of Kacey, smiling at the camera.

This must be the place where the geo club was holding their memorial tomorrow. Ginny really could have been here setting up this shrine to Kacey. I hadn't even put the two things together until now, sure Ginny was making up excuses for her lateness. Of course, it still could have been an excuse—just because the shrine existed didn't mean Ginny had set it up herself, or even helped.

Emma plopped down into a sitting position at my side, her wet nose finding my hand. I absently rubbed her head as I thought of the woman who had died. “She'd been loved,” I said to her, even though Emma was the only person—well, dog—around. Some ideas were just too big to keep in your head.

Emma pushed her nose into my hand again. Which either meant,
Whoa, dude, too deep
, or
Aren't we supposed to be running?
I decided it was the latter and we carefully moved away from Kacey's memorial and headed farther up the beach.

This time the sound of the waves and the feel of my feet hitting the sand didn't block out the unanswered question circling in my mind.
Who killed Kacey?

The rest of the day was filled with chores right up to the time I left for the shop to cover Aunt Jackie's shift. Sasha was manning the counter when I arrived. She waved and poured me a large hazelnut black, just the way I liked my coffee. “Hey, you didn't have to come in early. I don't have to leave until five to pick up Olivia.”

“I thought Toby was working the midday shift?” I sat at the counter and slid the book Sasha had been reading closer. The YA dystopian series had been selling like hotcakes after the movie released last month. “Is this what the book club is reading next month?”

Sasha handled our tween book club as well as the older teen group. Since I'd hired her on, book sales in the YA category had doubled, and even Aunt Jackie had realized it was an uncharted market for us. “We're having a movie night. They can read anything that's been turned into a movie in the last five years.”

“That should be interesting. How are you going to talk about the books?” I read the back cover and thought I'd put this one on my own reading list for next week.

“We'll divide up in groups. From the books they purchased through us, I'm pretty sure we'll have four groups with a few outliers. There are some rebels in the bunch.” She smiled at the thought of her book club members.

I pushed the book toward her. “Whatever you're doing, it's working. I got a call from the high school principal thanking us for the increase in students reading during study hall. I guess she's even seeing them parked on the hallway floor during lunch with their books.”

Sasha blushed. “The kids just needed a reason to read. Now that we get to talk about the books they want to read, instead of the ones they have to read for English class, they're all about it.”

I thought about my own high school years. “You know, I don't think we've ever done a service project with the school library. Why don't you visit the librarian next week and see if we can do some type of event for them? Maybe there's an author they'd like us to bring in for a talk?”

Sasha's eyes widened. “We could do that?”

“We have a promotion budget for a reason. Besides, the book club is making us some money now that you're running it.” I nodded as I considered the idea more. “We'll have to get Aunt Jackie on board, but after tonight, she owes me at least one favor.”

“This is going to be so rad. I just hope the librarian and the high school go for it.” Sasha did a happy dance behind the counter. “I love working here. Just saying.”