The Devil Makes Three (18 page)

Rogers stepped forward, eyeing the note. “Do your admirer’s frequently give you presents?”

Why she cared, I didn’t know, but the last thing I wanted her to do was read the card. “I only have one, and yes he gives me presents.”

She glanced from the flowers back to me. “You don’t sound too thrilled. If a man sent me flowers, I’d think he might be a keeper.”

“I don’t think he’s a keeper,” I said, walking past the table to the hallway. “He’s got some issues. The gun?”

“If he’s got issues, why accept the gifts?” she asked, eyeing the flowers. “That might lead a guy on.”

“Because he’s harmless, really. He’s just unconventional. Did you want to see the gun or not?”

She stepped away from the table towards the hall. “Fine. Let’s see this gun.”

I led her down the hall and opened my closet door. The box sat on the top shelf  just under the box containing the nightgown, which still had its bow. Thankfully, I had thrown the other bow away. I snagged the smaller box and popped it open. The Glock Corbin had given me sat in the bottom, my salvation, my freedom, in tangible form.

She took the box from me and grimaced. “I’d like to take this back to the station and run a few tests. And we’ll check the real ownership of it.”

“Fine. Like I said before, that girl could have been anyone. Or he’s got his sales confused. This is the gun I bought from him.”

And I was going to give Corbin a huge kiss the next time I saw him.

“You do realize of course you’re still in trouble,” Rogers said, replacing the lid.

“Why is that?”

“Possession of an unregistered firearm is illegal. It comes with a penalty of up to five years in prison.”

I sucked in my breath, but calmed myself from immediate panic. Five years was better than life for murder and my reason for possession - the fear of personal threat with psychological trauma to back it - had to be a pretty good defense.

“I guess I’ll need that lawyer then.”

She didn’t arrest me right then. I wasn’t sure why. Instead, I saw her out the door then slid down the wall, coming to a seat on the foyer floor. It took a few moments of deep breathing before I felt composed enough to consider anything but the very real possibility of my lifetime of imprisonment. Finally calming down, I stood and walked over to the table, thinking of how much I owed Corbin, and was suddenly much more responsive to the present, flowers and note. Picking it up, I read.

I saw the roses and thought of you. I hope you didn’t have too much fun this evening. I’d hate to have you shut me down before we even get started. It’s never wise to limit your options without getting all the facts first. As for the other stuff, I just want to keep my favorite employee happy and stress free. Good luck.

Licking my lips I slipped the bow off the box. I pulled the lid open and felt my eyes bulge. Not only was there a gorgeous pair of emerald earrings, but also an emerald tennis bracelet. All this lay atop a thin stack of papers, paper clipped in four sections. Riffling through them I recognized them to be the past decade worth of midterms for each of my current classes. The only one that was missing was Collin’s class. I could only assume this was because he hadn’t taught the class before and thus had not given a midterm for it before.

Corbin had just taken all the guess work out of my midterms for me.

#

Fifteen minutes later I slid into the car next to Collin, but Corbin was the man on my mind.

“I’ve sat here worrying this whole time, certain you got arrested,” Collin said, turning off the news radio program he frequented.

“Sorry. I just needed a few minutes to regroup. Agent Ginger Rogers, interrogator and dancer extraordinaire must have gone out the back door.”

“What did she want?”

I debated telling him about Agent Roger’s confusion at my professions of already being questioned, but thought better of it. I wanted to discuss it with Corbin first. “Pretty much she just wanted to re-ask me a bunch of questions Cohen had already covered. They wanted to harass me about Martins’ murder.”

“I’ll speak to Cohen if you want.”

I shook my head. “No. I’d prefer it if the issue just went away. It’s giving me a headache. There’s no point anyway. He’s just doing his job, I guess. Anyway, hopefully it’s done now. I had some evidence that proved I wasn’t there.”

“Oh? Good. What was it?”

I avoided answering by scrubbing my forehead with my palm. “She’s a lot less comforting than your brother. I feel like I’ve been put through the ringer.”

“Oh.” I could hear the disappointment in his tone, but pushed it aside. There would be other dates. Tonight had struck capacity in the excitement department and I was done for the day.

“I’m really sorry.” I glanced over at him and smiled weakly. “We could hang out sometime next week. I was going to suggest we take a stroll around the cemetery tonight, but we could do it one night while I’m working.”

“A casual stroll through a grave yard?” His eyebrows rose and a crooked smile passed his lips. “Sounds macabre, but not wholly unappealing.”

I smiled back. “That’s one of the things you like about me.”

Ten minutes later I was back in my apartment, fingering the jewelry and wondering if I would be lucky enough to get two visits in one night. I owed Corbin big time and wanted to thank him as soon as possible. How he had possessed the foresight to get me another gun, I didn’t know. But I knew that the gesture was one of concern and appreciation. I couldn’t let that pass without proper recognition.

Chapter 16

In which Gretchen is forced to actually be social.

The next morning I pulled myself together slowly, checking my phone occasionally, trying hard not to get obsessive with the idea that Corbin could call at any moment. It wasn’t until after my third M*A*S*H episode and a half a box of crackers that my phone rang.

“Hi Gretchen. This is Katie.”

Since the call came totally unexpected, I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Gretchen?”

“Yeah. I’m here. Sorry. What’s up?”

I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping today.”

A million reasons not to go presented themselves, but the box of crackers and Frank Burns’ unrelenting insistence to play a wet blanket got the better of me. Not to mention the suspicion that I might go a little crazy waiting for Corbin’s call. “Okay. I guess we could go. But I don’t have a car.”

“I’ve got a car. I can pick you up and we can hit all your favorite places.”

An hour later I found myself settling into the passenger seat of her Jeep Cherokee. It was an old model, lacking in all the modern amenities, but it was still clean and nicer than nothing. Tucked in my pocket was a list of addresses I’d quickly mapped out and my phone, set to vibrate.

Katie smiled at me and motioned to the tennis bracelet that graced my wrist. “Nice. Did you get that at one of these stores?”

“No. Actually, I can’t remember where it came from.”

“You must like emeralds.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You have a necklace too, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.” I fondled the jewelry under the fabric of my shirt and forced a smile. “I suppose they’re the best stone.”

“I like amethysts,” Katie said, putting the car in gear. “Maybe I’ll find one for myself.”

#

Three hours later Corbin hadn’t called and I was dangerously close to going over the edge, tired of chipped tea sets and porcelain dolls missing eyes and hair. We’d found a couple pieces that weren’t exactly cheap, but I felt I could probably make a profit on, albeit a small one. Nothing like what Katie had in mind.

Instead of leaning towards accessories like me, she seemed more interested in spoons, of all things.

“Do you think there’s a market for spoons?” she asked, peering at the tarnished brass of a particularly ancient utensil.

“I don’t know. You could always give it a try.” As long as you don’t expect huge results.

The last store on the list sat between the university and my apartment. I had purposefully arranged our progression in a circle, so home would be the next logical destination when we finished. Upon exploration, we found an extensive collection of jewelry at the counter, including some amethysts and emeralds.

Katie gaped at her preference while I eyed a particularly enticing emerald ring. After all, it was really the only thing I lacked. The quality of the emerald was magnificent. It had a dark green tone indicating natural sources rather than coming from a laboratory, and completely lacked carbon.

“You should buy it for yourself,” Katie said.

“What about you? Are you buying that amethyst ring?”

She glanced at the case mischievously. “I will if you will.”

Certain we were making the shopkeeper’s day, I indicated to the ring and asked him to wrap it up. Digging in my pocket for my funds, I first had to sift through a horde of receipts from the previous stores. Pulling them out one by one, I set the contents of my pockets on the counter, along with my cell phone. Finally, I found my money and began counting out the bills for the ring.

My phone began to vibrate against the glass case and my heart leapt into my throat. I reached to grab it, but got there too late. Katie saw what the caller ID said. 

“Professor, huh? That sounds unethical, but intriguing.”

“It’s not what you think.” I said, seizing the phone and flipping it open. “Hello?”

“Temptress. Did you get my present last night?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Oh? Talk.”

“Not now. I’m a little busy.”

“Collin keeps you jumping huh? Remember, you’ve got to leave time for me in there somewhere.”

“No, it’s not him. I’m shopping with a friend.”

“Friend?” I could hear the disbelief in his voice. “You don’t have friends.”

“I have friends. In fact, I’m thinking about joining her poker game.”

Katie’s face brightened at this and she smiled widely. She had brought the subject up once already that day but I had shot her down, professing better things to do with my money than giving it away.

“Poker? You’d be horrible at poker. You’ll gamble away all the money I’ve given you.”

“I earned every cent and what I do with it is my own business.”

Katie’s eyebrows rose with this, but she refrained from commenting.

“Fine. Throw it away. So if you can’t talk now, when?” Corbin asked.

“Later.”

“You’re working later.”

“I know. Come by.”

He paused for a moment and I could feel him chuckling at me. “You’re actually inviting me into your precious funeral home? I’m all aquiver with excitement. Would you like some help digging someone up?”

“No!” I said, glancing at Katie and the shopkeeper. They were both engrossed in the exchange of goods for cash and hadn’t heard him, or my vehement tone. “No,” I repeated, calming myself. “Just come by.”

“Later then, Temptress.”

#

I paced the funeral home office, waiting for him to show. When the clock struck midnight I couldn’t take the tension anymore and slipped out into the cemetery to visit Mr. Jenkins who was gracious enough to be buried with his wedding ring.

I had just lifted the lid off the coffin when a noise behind me made me jump, hitting my head on the cement vault lid. Again. Luckily, this time I had used two re-enforced straps to avoid any unpleasant squishing.

Dashing to the ladder, I scurried up and glanced around for the source of the noise. Corbin sat not ten feet away on a bench, watching me. I rubbed my skull and glared at him. “Did you have to sneak up on me like that?”

“Sorry, Temptress. Didn’t mean for that twig to break.”

“You were just going to sit there and watch me?”

His elbows rested on his knees, with the moon shining brightly behind him. “I thought I would examine your technique. Maybe I can learn something.”

“And what about last time?”

“Last time? Same excuse. I’m the type of man who likes to learn as much as possible about potential investments. It’s a nice little spot you’ve got here.” He looked around, taking in the rolling hills that separated us from the wrought iron fence covered in hedges, and busy road beyond that. “Very secluded. A good place to conduct business.”

“Business?” I didn’t like the way that sounded at all. “And what do you mean, investments?”

“I’ve been thinking about partnering up with you. The two of us should dig up all these graves and get what we can for the booty. Doesn’t that sound like a decent investment to you?”

I glared again and jumped back down on the coffin, extracting the ring from Mr. Jenkins finger. Then, shutting the casket lid I glanced up over the graves edge at the black, starless sky. Corbin stared back at me. 

“I think it sounds like a horrible investment,” I said. “You know, your foot prints could implicate you.”

“You wouldn’t let that happen.”

“And you know organs aren’t worth anything once the bodies are dead.”

“Med students don’t care about that.”

He was right and we both knew it. Extending my hand, he took it and pulled me out of the grave.

“I see you’ve re-enforced the strap today. Fearful of spending eternity with one of your victims?” he asked, plucking a strap like a guitar string.

“Can one really classify the dead as a victim? Seems to me, posthumous robbery doesn’t hurt anyone.” I shook the excess dirt from my trash bag outfit then moved past him to the backhoe. Moving back to the bench, he watched while I refilled the grave.

He helped me collect and fold the plastic canvas next, shaking it free of excess dirt. Then I tossed the canvas in the backhoe and approached the bench.

I’d worried about what I might do tonight, all day long. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, but then I wasn’t sure what the wrong idea was. But now that the venue of conversation had changed from how I had pictured it – from the office to the graveyard - I felt more confident that things wouldn’t get out of hand, especially since I wore garbage bags.

Taking a seat on the bench next to him I glanced at the newly filled grave. It looked the same as it had only a half hour before.