The Devil Wore Sneakers (9 page)

She nibbled on the roll and looked out the living room window. The clouds drifted across the sky. The wind blew pebbles skipping over the sidewalk and the lanes of sparse traffic. A blonde in an ivory jacket hurried down the walkway. Her familiar gait gave away her identity. Clarissa. Didn’t the woman work?

Another female approached from the opposite direction. She walked with a slow, careful step. It was Bella. Lucy inched to the end of the seat as the two women continued toward each other. Would Clarissa shout, “Bitch” at Bella?

Would Bella break into tears? Three more seconds. They must have seen each other by now.

“What’s so interesting outside?” Liam stepped in front of her to peer through the window.

“Clarissa and Bella, and they’re about to meet.” Lucy strained to look around him. “I was curious about how they greeted each other.”

“They ignored each other and walked by. Here. Is this better?” He held out a key on a looped cord. “My spare. It opens the doors to your apartment and the Moose.”

“Thank you.” She stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans.

“How about we exchange cell numbers, too.”

They swapped phones, plugged in their digits, and gave them back. It was business, she reassured herself. “I guess it’s official.” She held her cell in her hand, feeling like they had performed a ritual in a bonding ceremony. “We’re landlord and tenant now.”

“Do we shake on it?” The gleam in his eyes suggested he wanted more.

Be careful
, warned the voice in her head
. Don’t go backward in life. Keep moving forward.

“Hey, Liam.” Hank, the bartender, was in the doorway. “A man wants to discuss extending your ad in the free press next week.”

“Be right back.” Liam laid a hand on Lucy’s shoulder and then left.

The surge of warmth from his palm lingered. Okay, what was she doing? She’d put herself in daily contact with a man who’d broken her heart— but she’d forgiven him. Still, she needed to be careful, not gullible. She didn’t mean to fall for him again.

Hank walked around the room. “You’re moving in?”

“I am. I can beat you for closeness to the Moose.”

“Did Liam hire you?”

“Oh, no, I gave up waitressing a couple of years ago. I wasn’t good at it. For some reason, people expected me to get their orders correct.” She flashed him a grin, one he didn’t return. So much for humor.

“There might be an opening where my sister works. I can ask her.”

“Don’t bother. I’m not staying in Barley long. Soon as the police make an arrest, I’m going back to work at my old job. I’m a desk clerk at a hotel. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Must be hard, waiting to face the person who killed your brother. I hope they find the pile of manure before someone else is hurt.”

“Yesterday would be too late.” She fisted and unfisted her hands by her sides until she caught Hank looking at her movements. She forced herself to relax. Once she got a little rest, she’d handle her emotions better.

The sound of Liam’s footsteps running up the stairs announced his return. He walked in, glanced from her to Hank, and raised his brows. “Everything okay?”

“Sure, boss. I was telling Lucy that Bella will put in a good word for her with her employer if she needs a job.”

“Thanks again, Hank, but I’ll be moving on soon.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he said. “Well, I gotta get back to work downstairs.”

Lucy waited for Hank to leave before she spoke to Liam. “Any possibility Hank didn’t want Ryan for a brother-in-law? Though killing him would be drastic, I admit.”

“He was looking forward to his sister moving to Ryan’s permanently.”

She rubbed her forehead, gathering her spinning thoughts of Bella, Ryan, and Hank. Small-town life involved a lot of awkward situations. Her phone buzzed, alerting her to a text.

“Do you want me to check it for you?” Liam directed a cold stare at her cell lying on the box.

“No thanks.” She wasn’t turning into a wimpy woman who couldn’t read her own messages. “I planned on buying a pay-as-you-go phone today. I should have waited to give you my number.”

“Easy to change.”

She pulled up the message:
Ballistics are in.

Grabbing her purse, she asked, “Ready to talk to Chief Sullivan?”

“I’m at your service.” Liam held up his keys.

She glanced out the window at Main Street. Maybe Clarissa and Bella were spying on her, trading secrets, making plans. Or maybe Matt was nearby, watching, set to run her down?

This time, he’d make sure she was dead. The skin on her neck prickled as she left the apartment.

Chapter 10

Matt gazed out the window of the abandoned storefront to the street below. He’d found the perfect new home, a deserted store between the Barley House B&B and the police station. The site provided a position to spy on Lucy.

Life felt like those days when his mother had skipped out on the rent and they were in between homes. His mother’s latest boyfriend would search out an abandoned building and they’d squat for a while.

Now he’d do the same. Once he’d settled into his Barley home, his first action had been to leave his holy card to let Lucy know he was near. A five-year-old could break into that Barley inn.

He paced back and forth and mentally replayed the scene of the four uniforms and two state troopers leaving the B&B last night. Their grim faces and stiff postures confirmed their frustration caused by the memento he’d left behind.

Barley’s small-town police force was out of their league, despite help from those troopers. In the afterlife, he’d thank Ryan Watson for dying and bringing Lucy home to this place policed by the Keystone Cops.

An obstacle still remained. Liam McAllister. Lucy had walked out of the inn with him. He was carrying her suitcase, indicating she was checking out. They didn’t stop at the bus station. Where had he taken her? Matt needed a higher level to observe the whole street, but in this one-gas-station town, no one built above a third floor. Taking care of McAllister had hit top priority on his agenda. A warning would send him running.

What was she doing with him again? All the tears she’d shed over the man, and she’d learned nothing from the way he treated her. “Lucy, Lucy, I must pray for you.”

No, she required more than prayers to remind her how unfaithful she was being to Matt’s memory. He’d only been gone for a few months, and she’d reconnected with a worthless ex. Didn’t she realize he’d throw her away like day-old trash without a twinge of conscience? Matt knew his type. He’d counseled them. He
was
them.

Where was the fairness in life?

He paused. Why worry? He’d placed his faith in God guiding him to Lucy, and He had. Now to complete his mission.

I’m coming for you, Lucy. I will have justice for your betrayal
.

Chapter 11

Liam waited in the lobby of the police station while Lucy went to the desk. He’d little interest in the pictures of the surrounding mountains that decorated the wall. He could step outside and see them.

He stared out the glass entry, searching the street and sidewalk for unfamiliar faces. Matt Hastings was lurking out there. Where was the pond scum hiding?

This morning, the lines on Lucy’s face had deepened at the mention of his name. The dirtbag had hurt her. The urge to leave and hunt the guy down rubbed against his patience.

“Sullivan will meet with us now,” Lucy said, interrupting his thoughts.

He nodded, and they followed the uniformed clerk to the chief’s office. At the rap on the door, Sullivan shouted for them to enter.

Steam heat hissed in the crammed, windowless room, and an overhead fluorescent bulb burned in place of natural light.

“Miss Watson, please sit.” Behind his desk, Sullivan rose and gestured at a chair in front of him. “McAllister.” His tone hardened. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I invited him.” Lucy’s voice was firm and final as she perched on the edge of her seat. “Grab a fold-up by the cabinet, McAllister.”

“I’m set.”

Sullivan twisted his lips in annoyance.

“Chief.” Lucy crossed and recrossed her legs with impatience. “Any news on the image taken at my brother’s funeral?”

“We’re still working on who took the picture. In these days of camera phones, a person can keep out of sight and snap a photo.”

“But what’s happening with the search for the red sports car? I’m sure the driver is the person we’re looking for.”

“We’ll find the car.” Sullivan folded his hands and tapped his thumbs together. “We’ll track the color and model. Now, you wanted the results of the ballistics report.”

“Did the lab narrow the list of suspects?” Liam asked.

“Sit, McAllister, and we’ll discuss it.” The chief pulled a file from the bottom of the stack of folders.

“I’ll stand.” Liam leaned against the wall behind Lucy with his arms crossed over his chest and fixed his gaze on Sullivan.

A shadow of irritation crossed the chief’s face. He picked up a paper. “The bullet recovered at your brother’s crime scene came from a .38 Special. Unfortunately, if we surveyed the town, tons of people would fess up to owning one.”

“The report doesn’t help us.” Lucy sank back against the chair.

The chief tossed the sheet on his desk. “Every piece narrows the search.”

“Which of the suspects own a .38 Special?” Sullivan was as useful as a bottle of diet water. Liam couldn’t stand much more.

“The police do the investigating, McAllister. I take it you don’t own one?”

“Sorry to ruin your hopes, but I don’t own a firearm. Draw a red line through my name.”

Lucy widened her eyes at him, signaling him to stop baiting the chief. She turned to Sullivan. “Did you question Clarissa about the text?”

“Your ex-sister-in-law claims she was staying at a friend’s house and didn’t have her cell with her. But anyone can schedule a message to arrive ahead of time, or buy a burner phone. Her alibi doesn’t hold much credibility. We’ll obtain a warrant and check her cell records, since she’s a person of interest in your brother’s death. We don’t put up with people threatening each other in Barley, Miss Watson.”

“Who’s Clarissa’s friend?” Liam asked.

“The name is unimportant. I’m not dragging an innocent individual into an investigation until we have proof they’re involved.”

“Does Clarissa have an alibi for the night Ryan died?” Liam persisted.

The chief grimaced. “We’ll consider investigating her further.”

“Bella Jackman is cleared?” Lucy bent toward the chief.

“The evening your brother was shot, Bella worked at the gift shop. Next, she stopped at the Mad Moose to visit her brother. He drove her home when his shift ended. I’m sure McAllister will support her story, Miss Watson.”

Lucy sent Liam a questioning glance.

He pushed away from the wall. “Bella often hangs out at the Moose. Sounds like we alibi each other.”

Sullivan tapped the tablet lying on the desk and read from the screen. “Witnesses report your bar was open until eleven pm. According to your bartender and his sister, they left you at eleven thirty pm.”

“I’m getting the impression I’m still on your person-of-interest list, Sullivan. FYI, I locked up at eleven forty-five. Then I hit the shower and bed.”

Quiet fell over the room, and Liam figured Sullivan was computing the drive to Ryan’s house from the Moose in minutes.

Sullivan’s chair squeaked as he shifted. “Anyone can borrow a firearm, and your timeline doesn’t clear you if your memory is off by a few seconds.”

“I wish the ME had narrowed the time Ryan died.” Lucy shuffled her feet with impatience. “Any results from the lab on the coins or news on Ryan’s guns?”

Liam wasn’t sure if he was grateful or ungrateful that she’d changed the topic.

“We’re still waiting. In the meantime, I’m keeping an eye out for gun shows and sales on the web. We could get lucky and pick up either the weapon used in your brother’s crime or your grandfather’s rifles.”

Lucy’s shoulders drooped. “I guess we’ll go since—”

“Wait. I received news from Detective Noah Cassidy from Hawick Falls. He reported on Matthew Hastings, your stalker.”

Lucy’s head bobbed up. Liam crowded forward and laid a hand on her shoulder.

Sullivan glanced at them and frowned while he read from his tablet. “He relayed that security found a stolen car in a mall parking lot in Burlington, Vermont two days ago. A video captured a middle-aged male who resembled Hastings exiting the vehicle the night it was dumped. The driver parked and walked away. Tests ID’d Hastings’s prints on the steering wheel, the shift, and the door handle.”

“I’m surprised Noah didn’t contact me,” Lucy mumbled.

“Forensics just confirmed,” the chief said. “Cassidy went to view the mall video. He texted me further confirmation a half hour ago.”

“Where’s the creep hanging out now?” Liam asked. “That’s what we want to know.” Sullivan should get to the point.