Worked to Death (Working Stiff Mysteries Book 2) (16 page)

I didn't blame her for that. Having a man tell you his honest feelings to your face would be great. I only wondered what it would take to get this information out of any of the men in my own life at the current moment.

"But you drove it into the pool by accident." I tried to imagine the situation.

"Yes, and it scared me. By the time I crawled out and went inside to change, I was in tears and freezing. I called Hollon Brothers. But before you got there, I just got angry and mad, and I was so emotional, Mandy."

She finally tired of pacing and sat in the rocking chair that I'd vacated earlier.

But Dr. C. had told me that he might have been in there as long as overnight. Could she have done this the night before and waited until morning to call it in? Any why hadn't a neighbor heard something?

I crossed my arms over my chest and walked to the large window by the front door. I peeked out behind the curtain sheer. All seemed quiet on Edgewood Road.

"If I do help you try to find this other woman—if she even exists, how would I even go about it?"

She lifted up her shirt and pulled a small envelope out of the front pocket of her jeans. She cleared her throat. "I found this locked in his desk. He had a drawer that he kept locked. I, uh…didn't have the key, but I broke the lock."

"Okay, what's it say?" I wondered if Ty and the guys had searched her house yet but doubted they had probable cause until they found out the cause of death. I wasn't exactly sure how all that evidence stuff worked.

"I don't know. It looks important, but it's…chemistry or something." She handed it to me.

I hesitated, but then took it from her hands.

"I'm sorry. Chemistry?" I was trying to see how this related to Mick's secret lover.

"You're the only person I know who is smart enough to figure this out. But I just… please take a look at it. It means something, and if it isn't about the woman then it's about his death. You see… I think someone killed him before the cancer did."

I opened the report and looked down at it. It was full of compounds being broken down into elements and little notes off to the side. I studied it a moment.

"Why do you think this means someone killed him?" I was running through the elements and molecular structures in my head. It was late, I was tired, but once you have those formulas drilled into your head for year after year—it kind of comes back to you like a basic recipe for cornbread.

I closed my eyes a moment. Nope, that wasn't a good comparison. I had no idea how to make cornbread. But these compounds I did know.

"All I know is that he was working on a story. For work."

I looked up from my studies. "For the radio show?" I couldn't see how this meshed.

She took a deep breath. "Mick was unhappy with our current job situation. He loved working with me, but he always wanted to be taken as a serious reporter. And a morning show isn't exactly well-respected in the journalism community." She rolled her eyes.

"And he was trying to become a serious journalist before he died?" The pieces were slowly clicking into place in my mind. Like the perfect ingredients in the perfect chili.

Geez Mandy, how can you be hungry again?

"Yes. He was working on something. Staying up late and doing research. He wouldn't tell me what it was. I wondered if that was how he met this other woman—and…do you think that was it?" Her voice was hopeful now.

Secret sources? Covert investigations? This whole town was cable television crazy.

"I guess it is possible. Is this all you found?" I folded the document. I was thinking that I could really use the help of Colin or Ty on this. I was getting in way over my head already.

"The only other things in the drawer were some coins. Will you check it out?" She sounded urgent. I studied the desperation in her face.

"I'll look at it, Matty, but I can't promise anything."

She smiled and bowed her head at me. "That's all I can ask. Thank you, Mandy. This means the world to me."

She headed toward the door, and I followed. As I watched her step outside, something occurred to me.

"Wait, what kind of coins were in the drawer with this?"

She looked back over her shoulder at me. "Aw, just some low-value casino tokens. The kind they throw out at the Mardi Gras parade and stuff like that." She gave me a wave and headed across the lawn.

I leaned out and watched until she reached her car that was parked on the street.

Casino tokens? Like the kind at Fort Creek?

I stared down at the pages again. Molecular structures and periodic table elements stretched out before my blurry eyes. I wasn't sure about all of them without some checking, but I was pretty certain that I was looking at the formulas and compounds that made up a particular illegal narcotic.

And I wondered if this was what had killed Mick Thibault before the cancer could finish the job.

I also wondered if these drugs had been obtained from one particular casino owner that I'd had the displeasure of meeting earlier today.

My stomach grumbled. How in the world was I going to get myself out of this maze?

"I could sop you up with a biscuit." —Things We Say in the South

I slept through the night without being kidnapped, awoken, or murdered. So, it had been a good night. I sat up in bed and stretched my arms over my head.

"I like that little crease on your cheek from the pillow."

I jumped at the sound of his voice, but then couldn't stop the treacherous smile from forming on my lips.

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he's back in town, and that means he'll pop up whenever and wherever he chooses." I glared at Colin, and he gave me a warm smile that made my sarcasm melt down into a puddle in the pit of my empty stomach.

"Can we just call a truce for a minute or two so that I can explain what's going on?"

I slipped my feet out of the covers and sat up. Feet on the cold hardwood floor made me shiver.

"That depends," I said.

I turned back to look at him. He still sat in the chair, unmoving but relaxed.

"What did you bring me for breakfast?"

He grinned.

*  *  *

Half an hour later, I was stuffed on bacon, grits, eggs, toast, and hash browns. I pushed back from the kitchen table and rubbed the back of my neck.

"Thanks for the yummy food. Any news on Stella?" I asked hopefully.

"I'm working on it," was his cryptic response.

Pickles sat at my side, staring up at me with huge eyes.

"I've already given you plenty. Go on." I motioned to the sofa, and he lifted one side of his brow and then the other, but refused to budge.

I slipped him another piece of bacon, which he ate in one bite.

"Are you sure you should be feeding him so much human food?" Colin asked, and both Pickles and myself gave him a look.

He held up his hands in surrender.

"So, I'm waiting," I said. Standing up and beginning to clear away the feast before me.

"Mandy." He grabbed my hand and a shiver ran up it at his warm, strong touch.

I made eye contact with him, and grey eyes that were usually all business were softer today. I melted a little.

Damn those eyes.

"Nothing happened between me and Allyson."

Those were the words I'd wanted to hear, but they aggravated me nonetheless. I snatched my hand away and pulled the plates off the table, placing them in the sink with a little more force than I'd intended.

"I didn't ask about her. Why even bring her up? What you did or didn't do with Hussy Harlow is not my business. I mean, we don't even have anything going between us. You can't stick around long enough for us to have anything. I mean, even if you want anything or not. I don't even know that," I rattled off all my thoughts in a flood of emotions that I couldn't contain.

His warmth was behind me, his breath on my neck. My treacherous body betrayed me, and I leaned back into him. He wrapped his arms around mine and ran his hands down the length of my arms, pulling my hands out of the sink and back across my body in a sort of self hug.

His lips spoke right behind my left ear—his breath moving small wisps of my hair against my neck.

"Nothing happened with her. It could never happen with her because I can't stop thinking about you."

My knees liquefied into a pre-Jell-O substance, and I felt them weaken beneath me. His arms held tighter, and I let out a little sigh.

Oh, Mamma.

He turned me around slowly, and my eyes met with his slightly stubble-covered chin.

"But…how can we start something when you're never here?" My dang reasonable brain wouldn't just let me enjoy the moment.

His fingertip slipped under my chin and lifted my lips to his. He leaned in and pressed warm lips to mine.

A full body shiver shuddered through me. I started to close my eyes.

"Yoo-hoo! I've got biscuits and tomato gravy, ya'll," Ms. Lanier's cheery voice sounded as she pushed through the kitchen door.

Oh crap. I'd totally forgotten that Ms. Lanier was bringing over breakfast.

We pulled apart quickly and silently. I was mentally cursing the fact that she had a key to the house at this particular moment.

I cut my eyes up to Colin's face, and he was smiling broadly.

What was he smiling about? I gave him a smirk.

She stopped when she caught sight of the two of us. Her face went from cheery to demure in a moment's notice.

"Oh, hello. You must be Colin Brooks?" If I wasn't mistaken, her voice had taken a flirtatious turn.

"Yes ma'am." He stepped forward and took her hand. "And I apologize. I had no idea that you'd be providing breakfast for Mandy and Paget this morning. I'm afraid I've upset your plans."

He leaned down and placed a small kiss on the back of her hand.

Who was this man?

I could have sworn I saw her peach-fuzzed cheeks flush red when his lips pressed to her hand. Well, at least someone was getting kissed today.

"Oh, now, don't you fret about that. These girls eat me out of house and home. This won't go to waste," she said then cackled after she'd thrown us under the bus.

He laughed softly.

"I have to run now. But I'll chat with you in a little bit, Mandy. Pick you and Paget up for our picnic at noon?" he asked, and they both turned to see my response.

Picnic? With Colin? This was the first I'd heard of it.

"Uh, yes. See you then." I smiled back and gave him a wide-eyed glare.

"Oh, that's so nice. Will you be staying in town a while then?" Ms. Lanier asked the very question I'd been wanting to know as well.

He smiled. But before he could be pressed into answering, Paget walked in.

"There's my girl, did you sleep well?" Ms. Lanier hooted as she showed Paget her basket of biscuits and goodies.

"Did you bring that apple jam I like?" Paget asked, getting to the most important matter at hand. She was a Murrin after all. She glanced up at Colin briefly but didn't seem concerned with his presence. She and he had bonded last year, and I guess he was still good in her book.

"Of course I did. I put it in a little glass jar with one of those metal clasps you like to open and close." Ms. Lanier searched through the basket for the jam.

"You might like these for your jam," Colin said as he pulled a box of one hundred plastic spoons from a brown paper bag on the counter. He slid it toward Paget and her face lit up.

She loved counting things. New things. She took the box and then stood up and wrapped herself around him in a hug.

Ms. Lanier pressed her hand to her chest in surprise.

I opened my mouth to speak but couldn't find the words.

Colin hugged her back, and then she let go and sat down to begin working on her spoons. He gave me a wink, and then tipped his head at Ms. Lanier, and saw himself out the back door without another word.

Ms. Lanier and I exchanged a glance.

If Colin broke my heart, it wouldn't be the only one.

*  *  *

"So now you're going to try to help Matty find out who this other woman was?" Ms. Lanier asked after we'd cleaned up the kitchen and I'd sent Paget off for a shower.

"Yes. I don't know where I'm going to start, but I think that I should tell Ty about this. I guess I'll wait until Colin fills me in on his undercover operation today at lunch. At least I'm assuming that is what is going on with this whole Mr. Brown thing."

We sat in the den, sharing a late morning cup of coffee. Ms Lanier had listened with nothing less than rapt attention as I'd told her about my meeting at Fort Creek and my rescue by Allyson "Slutty Spy" Harlow.

"You know how to go about finding this supposed other woman, don't you?" Ms. Lanier tapped her temple with a bony index finger as if the brilliant idea had just occurred to her.

I shrugged, crossing my legs at the ankle on the coffee table and blowing cool air over my cup of Green Mountain Blend.

"You have to go to the beauty shop, of course." She fanned her hand out in a "ta da" type motion.

I thought about it a moment. It wasn't a bad idea.

"You know, I could treat myself and Paget to a hairstyle and a manicure. We do have a lunch date with my mystery man after all."

"Hmm hmm. That sounds perfect. You girls run on down there and get the scoop from Sundae and friends. And I'll get on the horn to Maimie. We'll know who Mick was secretly seeing before the end of the day."

We said our goodbyes, and I went and got dressed. Paget and I walked out the door, ready to hop into Stella and take off. We stood on the front porch and stared at the empty driveway.

Right. No Stella.

"Where's Stella?" Paget asked, and turned to look at me.

Good question.

"I, uh, loaned her to someone." The lie sprang out, and at the same time I wondered how I would ever get her back. The thought both aggravated and scared me simultaneously.

"How will we get to Mane Street Styles for our morning of beauty?" Paget repeated my earlier words back to me.

"Let's call a cab." I walked back inside, and she followed.

"Like those ones the girls on
Sex and the City
are always taking?"

I looked back over my shoulder at her. "Ms. Lanier has to stop letting you watch those shows."

She shrugged. "I like Carrie. She's a writer, and she's everyone's best friend. Wouldn't it be neat to have that many best friends in real life?"

Her words touched me and broke my heart a little bit. I smiled at her.

"We have a lot of friends, Paget." I dialed the number to Coosada Concierge Service, which just so happened to be owned and operated by my boss, Scabby Hollon.

"Yeah, who's it?" He answered the phone. His voice more scraggly than usual—if that was possible.

"Hello, Mr. Hollon, it's Mandy," I said in a cheery voice. "How's your shoulder feeling this morning?"

He grunted. "Yeah, the doc said you did a pretty good job on that, but that you shouldn't have done it without an X-ray first."

I think that was his version of a thank you. But I pushed on. "I need a ride to the beauty salon. Is there anyone there who can give us a cab ride?" I tried to appeal to him with the promise of money.

"Yeah, well, you're still fired, ya know? This is not an 'on the house' kind of cab ride."

"That's okay. I have another job, but my car is…not available." I didn't want to say that it was out of commission because then he'd be expecting me to bring it by for a service call. I only hoped that it wasn't indeed out of commission or lost forever.

"I guess I can get Cletus to pick ya'll up. But don't dilly-dally with him. He's my only employee right now."

"Okay, sir. How is the mechanic, Jeffrey?" I remembered how the man had been struggling to breathe just yesterday morning about this time.

"Don't know yet. Waiting to hear. But he's off the job fer now. Just me and Cletus, and I've got one arm in a sling here, ya know?"

I was sorry for him but couldn't really understand why I was fired exactly.

"Mr. Hollon?" I couldn't help myself.

"Yes, I'm paging him right now with the address," he said, and I heard him typing something into his computer. The old man was typing pretty well with only one usable hand.

"Okay, but…why is it again that I'm fired?"

He was silent a minute. "To tell you the truth, Mandy… I can't afford you anymore. The business has been losing money left and right. I may have to sell out."

His voice sounded strained and…something else. Saddened?

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, and I meant it.

"Yeah, well. I'm too old to be working this hard anyway. I think I may sell out to Cletus. He has come in to some money recently. He'll be there shortly, ya hear." Then he hung up.

That was the way he did phone calls. When he was ready to go…he was ready to go.

As I hung up I realized he'd left me with some thoughts. How had Cletus come in to some money? And I remembered that he'd been out of work the other day because something had happened to his eye. I wondered if he couldn't be involved in any of this. What if Mr. Blue had been looking for him yesterday at the garage and attacked us instead? I suddenly felt concerned about taking a ride from him. Maybe I was being paranoid and connecting everyone in town to one major conspiracy. Of course, this had happened before—just last year to be exact. Better to be safe than sorry.

I picked up the phone to call him back when a horn beeped outside and Paget pushed through the door before I could stop her.

That was fast. I put the phone back on the hook and followed her out. But instead of Cletus and the taxicab, Ty Dempsey sat in our driveway in a Millbrook Police cruiser.

He stepped out and gave me a look—it was not a happy one.