Skating Around The Law (23 page)

“You know, Danielle”
—I set the tube of lipstick on the desk—“I don't want this lipstick after all. The color isn't right for me. It wasn't right for the rink's front door, either.”

All color drained out of Danielle's face. Unlikely as it seemed, my verbal thrust scored a direct hit. Danielle, the pastor's girlfriend, had scribbled on the rink's front door. She was the maniac I was looking for. That also meant she was Mack's killer.

Only now that I'd found her, I didn't know what to do with her. The woman was whacked. For all I knew she had a knife or a gun stashed somewhere. I took a step backward as Danielle's hand moved toward a letter opener lying on her desk. For once, calling Deputy Sean sounded like a good idea.

Slowly, my hand reached into my purse. I pulled out the phone and began pressing buttons.

“Who are you calling?”

I looked up at the sound of Danielle's trembling voice. She looked scared. Pissed off, I'd understand—but scared? Something didn't feel right. My finger paused over the last number. “The sheriff,” I answered her.

Danielle sank into her chair as tears welled up in her dark brown eyes. She shot a look toward the pastor's office door. Whispering, she begged, “Please don't call the sheriff. Calling the cops will ruin my life.”

Sounded fair to me. Keeping Danielle's life on track wasn't high on my priority list. I shook my head. “Sorry, but you've been busy destroying mine for the past two weeks, not to mention the fact that you killed Mack Murphy. I'd say your concern for other people's lives is flexible at best.”

“Mack Murphy?” Danielle blinked, and her head cocked to one side. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean what am I talking about?” I demanded. “You killed Mack.”

“No, I didn't,” she said, shrinking back in her chair. “I liked Mack. Why would I kill him?”

Good question. Too bad I didn't have an answer. I studied Danielle carefully. She didn't look like she was lying. She also didn't look like a person who'd set fire to an innocent scarecrow, but her reaction to the revealing lipstick said she had. She had to be the person who killed Mack; otherwise, why would she have bothered trying to scare me into leaving town? None of this made sense.

I clutched my phone. “You killed him for the same reason you've been terrorizing me—you're nuts.”

Danielle's eyes met mine, and tears leaked down her face. “I'm sorry I did those things to you, but I didn't kill Mack. I swear.”

My heart sank. I believed her. The woman looked scared and unhappy. She didn't look like she was plotting how to off me. I lowered the phone. “Why did you threaten me and flatten my tire? What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing, yet,” she sniffled, “but it was only a matter of time. You'd tell someone in town that you knew me, and then my life would be ruined. I had no choice. I had to scare you into leaving town. It was the only way.”

I took a long look at Danielle. She seemed to think I knew something incriminating about her, but I didn't. I didn't know her, period. The woman really needed to get a grip. “Danielle,” I said, “I don't know you.”

Disbelief sparkled in her eyes, and her body began to tremble. “I did it all for nothing? I thought you recognized me from a Christmas party I worked. It was two years ago, but I remember you. You were there.”

I mentally rewound my life. Two years ago Neil threw a Christmas party. The guest list included everyone he'd ever met, including the entire office staff. That night Jasmine's date consumed too much holiday cheer. In his liquor-induced haze, he decided I was a Christmas present. Before he got too forceful about unwrapping me, the entertainment arrived. The creep's attention was diverted when he spotted the sexy Ms. Claus and her elflike girls that Neil had hired to take pictures, sing songs, and jingle their bells. After that all I remembered was doing my best to keep Jasmine from clawing her soon-to-be-ex's eyes out as he ogled the entertainment. I had no clue how Danielle fit into the whole mess, but apparently she did.

Wait. Maybe it was the tilt of her head or the fall of her hair, but suddenly I remembered. Danielle Martinez, Lutheran church receptionist and Pastor Rich's girlfriend, was a stripper.

Holy shit, I thought. “You were Ms. Claus.”

“You really didn't remember me?”

“Not until just now.”

“Figures.” Danielle gave a dejected shrug. “I was certain you'd remember since you were right up front with your friend.”

“I wasn't really paying attention to you. No offense.”

“I wish more people had your ability to forget. Not long after the party, I got my degree and gave it up. I hoped to meet a nice guy and have a couple of kids, but strippers don't have those kinds of lives, at least not where people know them. So last year I moved here.”

“Then you started dating Pastor Rich.” I was beginning to understand her motives even if I didn't agree with her method.

“I couldn't believe it when I saw you driving around town. I knew I had to get you to leave before my life was ruined.” Danielle wiped at her eyes. “So I tried to scare you into leaving, but you wouldn't go away.”

“Trust me, I wanted to.”

She sniffled. “Really?”

“Really.” I must've been the only person on earth who would find it necessary to bolster the ego of my would-be stalker. Funny, but I could actually forgive Danielle's antics now that I knew her reasons. There was only one thing that still bothered me. “Danielle, did you mean to hurt Neil?”

Her eyes welled up again. “I didn't plan to. Someone told me you moved into the rink, so I decided to see if it was true. Only he opened the door. I remembered him from the Christmas party. He wanted way more than just a dance. When I saw him standing there I freaked. I didn't even think. I just hit him with my flashlight. Once he was on the floor I didn't know what else to do, so I tied him up.”

I couldn't fault Danielle for her instincts. Neil could come on a little strong. More than once I myself had had the urge to crack him over the head. In a strange way, Danielle did me a favor. Maybe the woman wasn't so bad after all.

Danielle wiped her eyes with a tissue and gave me a watery smile. “Don't worry about calling the cops. I'll turn myself in. I deserve to go to jail for everything I've done.”

“No, you don't,” I said firmly. Okay, I know that after all the problems Danielle had caused, she really should be in jail, but I didn't want to be the one to send her there. Danielle came to Indian Falls to turn her life around, and she had until I showed up. Besides, I thought, no permanent damage was done. I was fine. Pop was fine. Neil had a bump, but he'd be back to normal in no time. Well, as close as he could get. The world wouldn't be a safer place with Danielle locked up.

“Look,” I said, “maybe we can work something out.”

Danielle's tears stopped. Her mouth turned up in a tentative smile. “Why? I tried to destroy your life.”

“Well, you didn't,” I said. “Besides, we have something in common.”

“Like what?”

I started to explain about my experiences with Neil and stopped. That conversation needed more time than we had right now. I said, “Why don't we get together sometime for coffee and talk about it?”

I left a smiling Danielle convinced I'd made the right choice about calling the cops. With Mack's killer still at large, what was one more crazy person loose on the streets of Indian Falls?

•  •  •

I parked in Lionel's driveway next to a row of cars. The gang was here and ready to play poker. I strolled toward the barn, and Elwood trotted with me through the dimly lit building to the back room.

Doc Truman spotted me and smiled, causing Lionel to turn and cross the room toward me. Before I could say hello, Lionel's mouth was on mine. I scooted back out of Lionel's embrace with an apologetic smile. Having three other guys in the room and a camel behind me made me feel funny about the public display.

“Feeling frisky?” I asked Lionel.

“I missed you.” He grinned. “You were gone a long time.”

I smiled up at Lionel. “Sorry for the wait, but I had a couple of stops to make.” I glanced over to the table, where the guys were waiting for the game to start. Doc and Zach were chatting. Tom was glowering—at Lionel.

I asked, “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“Not much.” Lionel leaned close. I gave him a stern look, and he admitted, “Tom and I had a few words about having his aunt locked up. Everyone knows Agnes couldn't hurt a fly.”

“I don't like you sticking your nose in my business,” Tom blustered from his seat next to Doc. I couldn't help feeling a stab of satisfaction when I realized his eyes were watering and still a little puffy. Way to go, Precious!

Lionel ignored Tom's surliness. “Let's play poker.” He took his seat at the poker table while I took mine, bewildered by the lack of conflict resolution. Tom shuffled the cards. Lionel passed him some chips. I thought the whole thing said worlds about the male psyche.

Two hours later, I'd played very few hands. I wasn't in the mood for cards. My mind was on other things. I hoped Agnes was sprung by now, and I was thrilled to know my grandfather's lawn ornaments were safe from Danielle. Too bad I didn't know who killed Mack. Plus I couldn't get past Annette's strange behavior. It haunted me.

Trying to think about something else, I asked Doc, “How's Neil doing?”

Doc folded with a harrumph. He finished off his beer and popped the top on another. “Checked on him just before I came over here. Don't worry, Rebecca, the boy's doing just fine.” The last was said with a dazed kind of smile. Chugging beers had done a number on Doc's head.

I folded my hand as Lionel took another pot. “Is he still being held for observation?” I asked Doc with a quizzical smile.

“Nope.” Doc gave a drunken shrug. “Neil planned on heading out of town as soon as he could. He said that no woman's worth risking his life over.” Doc winked and swayed in his chair. “Guess he was talking about you, although I don't agree with him. I'm pretty sure Lionel doesn't either, since the whole town is talking about the two of you. Eleanor's running a pool about when you'll be getting engaged.” He leaned close. “I took the first two weeks of September.”

“Really?” I looked at Lionel, who was staring intently at his cards. Clearly, Doc's comment hadn't bothered him, but it bothered me.

Not that I wasn't fond of Lionel. I was. He was sexy, sweet, and smart. I'd have to be dead not to feel something for him, but we weren't serious. Lionel knew that. Right?

Doc sucked down the rest of his beer. “I told Neil he should stick around. I thought he'd want to catch the person who walloped him, but he said no. Can you believe that?”

I shrugged. No Neil meant one less problem to deal with. “Maybe this is for the best,” I said. “Now all the sheriff's resources will be focused on finding Mack's murderer.” I raised an eyebrow in Tom's direction. “His real murderer.”

Tom's head swung in my direction. His eyes narrowed. “Aunt Agnes is sitting behind bars. Did you forget?”

“No,” I shot back, “but the sheriff decided to release your aunt. I guess senility wasn't a good enough motive for murder.”

I leaned my elbows on the table and stared straight into Tom's eyes. “The sheriff is not real happy about you turning on your aunt and then moving into her house. You might want to watch your step.” Acting bitchy lifted my spirits. Suspecting Annette was a murderess had made me edgy.

Tom didn't appreciate my cathartic release. He shot out of his seat, sending his chair crashing to the ground behind him. “What the hell does that mean?” he yelled.

My heart jumped as Tom's face turned a deep shade of magenta. I watched with a combination of fascination and fear as his hands balled into tight fists. “Tell me what you meant by that.” The threat in his voice was unmistakable. I shrank back in my chair, hoping Tom wouldn't leap across the table. The self-defense class I took a year ago didn't give pointers on how to outmaneuver a pissed-off drunk.

Tom kicked his chair out of the way and started to stalk around the table. Lionel stood up and blocked his path. “I think we've all had enough for one night. Why doesn't everyone pack it in and head home?”

Tom looked like he wanted to complain, but Zach cut him off. “I need to get to work early tomorrow anyway. Come on, Tom. I'll drop you at home.” A still red-faced Tom followed Zach out the door. As they disappeared around the corner, Doc began singing a rousing rendition of “He's a Jolly Good Fellow.” Doc was wasted.

Lionel waited for the men's footsteps to disappear before saying, “You shouldn't push Tom. He's got a mean streak. You don't want to mess with him.”

I'd already figured that one out for myself. “Why are you friends with him?” I asked.

“Mack introduced him to all of us. He was the one who asked Tom to join the game. Guess it's time to uninvite him—which will thrill Zach. He hates the guy.”

“Really?”

“He was Mack's best friend until Tom showed up. The first couple of poker games we had a few tense moments, then things settled down.” He gave me one of his toe-curling smiles. “Until you came along.”

Lionel's fingers massaged the back of my neck. I leaned into his touch as my neck muscles relaxed. The rest of my body started tingling. I contemplated what those fingers could do if we were alone. If nothing else, he'd make me forget about the icky feelings I'd had since visiting Annette.

I smiled at him, and his mouth crushed against mine. My lower abdominal muscles clenched as his tongue slipped between my teeth and did a little dance. When his fingers skimmed under my waistband, I felt tiny explosions in the pit of my stomach. Then they headed southward.