Skating Under the Wire: A Mystery (Rebecca Robbins Mysteries) (12 page)

“It won’t be a waste if you pour me a glass of that red.”

“Isn’t there a rule about cops drinking on duty?” As in, they aren’t allowed to?

Sean smiled. “I’m not on duty.” He plucked the glass of wine I’d poured for myself off the counter. “I only stopped here because I figured you needed help with your … investigation.”

I felt the need to pinch myself again. “You’re offering to help me?”

“You’re trying to help Mrs. Johnson. I’m trying to help the entire community. I don’t see why we shouldn’t work together to put the thief behind bars.” While I tried to recover from that shock, Sean took a sip of wine and added, “I heard you talked to Eleanor Schaffer today. I looked at the files. Her name was on Annette’s list.”

Technically Sean hadn’t asked a question, so I didn’t need to respond. I didn’t know much about being an investigator, but I’d discovered that it was best to stay quiet and let other people fill in the silences. You learned more that way. Taking a wine goblet out of the cupboard, I filled it and took a big swig.

Sean studied me over the rim of his drink for a moment.

Then he put his wineglass on the counter and folded his arms across his chest. The movement caused his unzipped jacket to shift, giving me a good view of his holstered sidearm. Normally, this reminder of Sean’s official authority would have worried me. Probably because most of the time in my quest for justice I tiptoed into the gray area of the law. On this occasion, however, I hadn’t done anything to warrant concern. No breaking and entering. No obstruction of justice. Nothing that could allow Sean to throw his badge around and threaten to land me in jail. I was in the clear.

Giving him a big smile, I took another drink of wine and leaned back against the counter. If Sean thought I was going to be the one to speak first in this verbal game of chicken, he was mistaken. For the first time in our bizarre relationship, I was in charge—and I liked it.

Sean raked his hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “Look, I questioned Eleanor after Annette’s breakin. She didn’t have any information on the theft.”

Still no question. Still no answer.

Sean must have figured this out since he added, “Did she remember anything new when you questioned her?”

“Nope. She didn’t remember anything new about the salon.” Oops. My system started to buzz in a way that told me to lay off the wine.

Maybe it was the wine, but I decided to cut Sean a break. “Eleanor told her son that Annette was leaving town for the holiday.” Sean’s eyes gleamed, and I shook my head before he could hurry to make a wrongful arrest. “Joey has a great alibi for half of the thefts. He’s not the guy you’re looking for.”

Sean frowned and downed the rest of his wine. “No, but he could have been.” His blue eyes met mine. “You did good work.”

Pleasure streaked through me. “Really?”

He laughed. “As much as I hate to admit it, yeah. You found a lead and tracked it down. Too bad it didn’t pan out. If we’re lucky, the next one will.”

Huh. There was that word again. We. As if the two of us were a team. Maybe pigs had grown wings and were flying over a ski resort in hell. Either that or the wine had also gone to Sean’s head.

Regardless of the reason, I decided I’d better take advantage of his go-team attitude since I severely doubted it would ever come again. “I also stopped by the Kurtzes’ house today. No one was home, but a neighbor mentioned the Kurtzes’ dogs were in the house when the first theft took place. Don’t you think it’s strange that someone would break into a house guarded by a half-dozen German shepherds?”

Sean shrugged. “I wasn’t part of the department when the first theft happened. Sheriff Jackson and Deputy Murphy were the investigative team. But yeah.” He walked over and poured himself another glass. “I think it’s strange the burglar chose a house with six large dogs. Especially since everyone around here knows the dogs are given free rein in the house when the Kurtzes aren’t home.”

“Were the dogs … you know … okay after the burglary?”

“They didn’t need therapy, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Sigh. “What I meant was, were the dogs sleepy or acting strange? Like they were drugged?”

Sean laughed. “This isn’t a movie, Rebecca. In real life, people don’t throw doctored steaks into the house and wait for the dogs to fall asleep.”

The movies had to get their material from somewhere. Besides, from what I’d seen recently, real-life crime was far quirkier than the stuff I saw on the big screen. Sean’s laughter grated on my nerves, but he had information I needed. Instead of a snappy retort, I dug my fingernails into my palms.

Sean tossed back the wine and glanced at his watch. “I should probably get going. There’s a sexy nurse from Peoria who’s waiting to raise my heart rate.”

Oy. The man was a pig. Okay. Maybe pig was too harsh considering his recent streak of cooperation. Still … Men!

Rolling my eyes, I walked Sean to the door and said, “I hope you and your friend have a great date tonight.”

He walked out the door and turned. “Your tone makes me think you don’t approve of my date. Why is that?”

Because, whoever this woman was, she deserved better than having her potential sex life broadcast to the nearest listener.

“I don’t know the woman you’re going out with, so I have no reason to approve or disapprove.”

Sean leaned against the door and grinned. “You know what?”

“What?”

“You’re beautiful when you’re jealous.”

I didn’t think. I just reacted.
Slam.

“Ow.” Sean yelped behind the closed door.

I threw the lock in case Sean decided to revoke his recent policy on not arresting me. Then I looked through the peephole in time to watch Sean retreat. Something told me he wouldn’t be quite as friendly tomorrow. Then again, maybe he’d realize I’d done him a favor, since his date might need to employ her medical training.

As aggravating as it was to know Sean had gotten a rise out of me twice in one day, his visit had helped solidify my next investigative step. I was about to put in another call to my grandfather when someone knocked on the door. Erica had arrived, and she wasn’t alone. Accompanying her were Anna Phylaxis, Halle Bury, derby captain Typhoon Mary, and three extralarge pizzas.

“Hey, Rebecca.” Anna and her long legs made a beeline for the kitchen. “Erica told us you wanted company for dinner, so here we are. Mary was supposed to bring soda, but she got a flat and had to tip the tow truck driver. If you want, we can go downstairs and buy some off the snack counter, or we can just drink whatever you have here.”

Before I could answer, Anna returned with sodas, plates, napkins, and trivets.

There were only ten days until Thanksgiving. If I was going to solve this case, I needed to do it soon. Otherwise there was a good chance the thief would strike again. Unfortunately, if I wanted to get work done, I’d need to evict my friends. Past experience told me that I wasn’t up to tossing derby girls out of my house. They were bigger, stronger, and really good at convincing me that they were only crashing my place for my own good. So, unless I wanted to call Sean (and I really didn’t want to call Sean), or say something mean to make them feel bad (something I also didn’t want to do), I would just have to eat pizza and wait until they left for practice to continue my investigation.

Or not.

As I took my first bite of spicy sausage and mushroom pizza, Erica said, “Everyone on the team is buzzing about your new career. Since Sherlene-n-Mean’s memorial, there’s been speculation about you pursuing a law enforcement career. The team thinks having a rink owner that doubles as a PI is great for our reputation.”

Halle swallowed her pizza with a nod. “We all have your back. Just tell us what to do and we’ll do it. The more of us working the case, the faster the crook is caught. Right?”

“Right.” Anna, Erica, and Mary cheered and high-fived.

“So.” Mary grabbed another slice of pizza and turned to me. “What’s the plan? Do you need us to do a stakeout or act as lookouts while you dig through people’s files?”

“I’m not doing another stakeout.” Erica frowned. “No offense, Rebecca, but my ass is still asleep from the last time.”

“You’re probably feeling last night’s workout,” Anna said. “My butt cheeks are still tingling. Those squats George made us do were brutal. I thought practices were going to get easier now that the season was over.”

I heaved a relieved sigh as the derby girls exchanged complaints about George’s painful fitness regime. Butts, abs, thighs, and boobs all ached. George was on a quest to get his team into top shape in order to kick butt on next year’s circuit. He’d even given the team a list of eating dos and don’ts in order to ensure they built muscle tone.

“What list does pizza fall on?” I asked, watching Erica scarf her sixth slice.

“Pizza transcends lists.” Halle smiled and patted her stomach. “But to ensure we get our vitamins, we ordered one vegetarian.”

The vegetarian pizza box sat unopened. I guess the girls figured they could absorb the nutrients through inhalation. Who knows? Maybe they were onto something. Although I figured that would work better if they set the box on fire. I’d gone to enough college frat parties to understand the power of secondhand herbal smoke.

I was about to set a good example by opening the veggie pizza box when Halle asked, “So, what’s our assignment, Coach? We won’t leave until you tell us how we can help.”

As far as threats went, that was a pretty good one. I’d had derby girls play sleepover at my place in the not so distant past. I still had the cracks and high-heel marks on my bedroom door to prove it. If I wanted to avoid further home repairs, I needed to come up with a task that would satisfy my friends and keep them out of my way.

“Do any of you own dogs?” I asked.

They looked at one another and then back at me with a shrug. Nope. No dogs here.

“Do you know anyone who owns dogs?”

They gave me happy smiles.

Phew. “Talk to the dog owners you know. Ask them if they’ve ever given their dogs over-the-counter medication to make them stop barking or go to sleep.”

“You think the thief drugged a dog?” Anna’s eyes widened. “That’s just mean.”

“It’s a theory.” One that I already planned to ask Lionel about, but it was the only task I could come up with to distract my team. “If the thief drugged the dogs, there’s a chance he didn’t use an animal-specific prescription. I want to know what kinds of meant-for-human medications animal owners have given to their pets without noticeable side effects. Send me a text or leave a note with George if you learn anything. This case will keep me too busy to spend much time at home.”

I crossed my fingers behind my back and hoped they didn’t know about the eyebrow raise I do when I fib. Hey, I might not have been lying. Between the wedding details, the investigation, and my recent upgrade in relationship status with Lionel, I might not be in my apartment much. I was a champ at rationalization.

Thank goodness either I’d learned to control my eyebrow twitch or the girls were too excited about their private-investigator-by-association status to care. They ate the rest of the nonveggie pizza, took their plates into the kitchen, and promised to keep me updated on their assignment as they tromped out the front door.

As soon as they were gone, I turned the dead bolt. I’d had enough guests for one night. Once the veggie pizza was stored and the plates stashed in the dishwasher, I looked at the clock. My heart dipped. It was almost eight o’clock, and Lionel still hadn’t called.

I tried to tell myself that I didn’t care. We were both mature adults who didn’t need to check in with each other all the time. Come to think of it, too many phone calls during a day would feel possessive and annoying. Which we weren’t. So this was good.

My stomach clenched. Nope. I wasn’t buying it. Now that I was no longer preoccupied with murderous mothers-in-law and starved skaters, anxiety had taken hold.

To distract myself, I placed another call to Pop. Voice mail. I tried to call Jasmine again. Voice mail. I even called Annette, hoping my godmother would be willing to discuss the thefts some more. Voice mail.

Crap.

Unless I wanted to spend the rest of the evening feeling like the pizza I consumed was going to make a reappearance, there was only one thing to do. Sucking up my pride, I started to punch speed dial number 3 when “The Hokey Pokey” began to play.

Lionel was calling.

My blood buzzed with nerves and excitement. “Hey.” Was I smooth or what?

“I hope you aren’t mad at me for not calling sooner.” Fatigue and tension resonated in his voice. “I planned to call this morning and surprise you with a romantic dinner at my place tonight, but something came up.”

Emergencies were part of a country vet’s life. Around here there were always cows in labor or horses twisting ankles. Throw in the stray call for a sick dog whose owner trusted Lionel more than the pet’s typical vet, and rarely a week went by without a date being postponed or broken.

“Did something happen to Mrs. Riley’s goat again?” So far the animal had eaten a pair of boots, a curry brush, six sponges, and an orange plastic bucket. Each dietary adventure caused severe indigestion and a panicked phone call to Lionel.

“Not exactly. Doc Truman called and asked for help.”

Uh-oh. Doc Truman wasn’t just Indian Falls’ answer to sniffles and sore throats. He was also the coroner. Whenever he was on vacation or otherwise occupied, Lionel stepped into his shoes. “Who died?”

“Ginny Chapman. I needed to escort her to the medical examiner and wait for him to perform the autopsy.”

Ick.

Wait … “Why does Ginny need an autopsy? I thought those were only performed when the death is unexplained or there’s a chance of foul play.” All those evenings vegging out in front of
Law & Order
had taught me something. “Ginny died in her sleep.”

“That’s what Sean thought. Doc was pretty sure that was the case, too, until he examined her. There’s no doubt about it.” Lionel sighed. “Ginny didn’t die of old age. The medical examiner has ruled. It was murder.”