Death of the Couch Potato's Wife: Cozy Christian Mysteries (Women Sleuth, Female Detective Suspense) (9 page)

I circled at the end of the street and slowed from 15 to 5 mph as we passed the Flynns’. The house looked even worst in the past week. Sprouts of grass were taller, the weeds seemed to have spread in the flower beds, and the place just looked unloved. Maybe I’d ask Kent to cut the grass sometime.

Movement caught my eye. I gasped and grabbed Babe’s arm.

“Something just moved inside the Flynns’ house. Look at the curtain!”

Babe leaned forward. “Well, I’ll be darned.” She slapped her knee and grinned. “Our first excitement of the night. We’d better check it out.”

I squeezed her arm as she reached for the door handle. “Oh no, you don’t. It’s the middle of the night. We should call the police.”

“Nonsense. It could be anything. The heat coming on, a fan—”

“A killer.” This time, she wasn’t talking me into going into the Flynns’ house. No way, no chance, no how.

I pulled out my cell phone and the town dispatcher answered. I explained what I’d seen, feeling slightly more official since I got to preface everything with my role on Neighborhood Watch. The dispatcher promised to send out Chief Romeo. In the meantime, Babe and I parked the car outside the house—with the doors locked—just in case someone tried to escape.

Chapter 11

“Nothing to worry about. Just a cat burglar.” Chief Romeo held up an orange and white tabby into the nighttime air. “Literally.”

“I didn’t know they had a cat,” I mumbled. I hadn’t seen one the day I’d found Candace, nor had I heard her mention one in all of our conversations. That just seemed like a fact I should know. I pulled my arms closer around me, warding off the early morning chill, which, when compounded with the already cold winter air, created one frigid day.

“Hillary made them keep it inside,” Babe mumbled, rubbing the cat behind the ears. “She said cats wandering the neighborhood were against the association rules.”

Sounded like Hillary. I guess if dogs weren’t allowed that freedom, felines shouldn’t be either.

Romeo rubbed the beast’s head. “This boy looks like he could use a good meal. And a bath. I guess we’ll take him down to the animal control shelter.”

“No! You can’t do that.” Babe grabbed Chief Romeo’s arm, concern flashing in her sparkling eyes. “That cat needs a home.”

“Would you like to take him?” Romeo held out the cat to her.

She waved her hands and took a step back, horror written all over her face. He might as well have asked her to marry him. “Not me. I’m allergic.”

In a split second, I felt her gaze on me.

Her index finger shot out, aimed directly at me. “Laura could use a cat.”

I, in turn, pointed at myself. In shock, not in agreement. “What? I don’t want a cat. I’m a dog lover. Not that I have a dog. Or have ever had a dog. But still. No cats.”

Babe nodded, like an over-eager toddler. “Pets make people happy.”

“I’m already happy.”

She patted my back with a three quick slaps. “Sure you are.” I scowled at Babe. What did she know?

Romeo walked toward his car, the cat protesting in his arms as he did so. “Hopefully, they’ll find a home for him at the shelter.”

My heart lurched, and I stared at the fuzzy little kitty, whose gaze seemed to be right on me. “And if they don’t?” Don’t be a pushover, Laura. Develop your backbone.

“Then they have to do the only humane thing.”

My eyes widened. “You mean—?”

Romeo nodded.

I gasped. “They can’t do that!”

He held the cat out to me. “There’s a simple solution.”

I snatched the fur ball from his hands. “Fine, but only until you find a home for it.” I glanced at the feline. “A home for him.” I protectively held the cat to my chest. His sharp nails pulsated through my coat and my neighborhood watch golf shirt into my skin. “Ouch!”

Romeo raised an eyebrow before turning to walk away. “You might want to think about having him de-clawed.”

You think? I kept my mouth shut.

As soon as he climbed into his cruiser, I glanced at my watch. Five a.m.

Sighing with relief that my shift was almost over, I stroked the kitty’s head and glared at Babe. “We’re done now, right?”

Babe held up her fist. “Here’s to a successful first night.”

I didn’t want to, but I gave her a fist bump anyway. With the cat perched on my shoulder, I quickly pulled my car into my driveway. Maybe I’d see Kent before he went to work.

I walked into the house to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Just the smell of caffeine alerted my weary senses. I rounded the corner and found Kent in the kitchen. He sat at our breakfast table, about to take a bite of banana bread. He paused with the slice mid-air. “Good morning.”

I stared at his hands as my heart beat double-time. “What are you eating?”

“What’s that on your shoulder?”

Silence fell as we both stared at each other. Actually, I stared at the bread in his hands, ready to pounce if he started to eat it.

I swallowed, barely noticing the cat clawing at my shoulder again. “You answer first.”

Kent held up the bread. “Yeah, I was surprised to find this on the counter this morning. I didn’t know you’d baked for me. I can’t wait to try it.” He raised it to his mouth again.

“No!” In one leap, I bound across the room and smacked the bread from his hands. In the process, I freaked out the cat, which clawed me again before scampering across the room and hiding.

Kent again looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Nothing new. “What is wrong with you? And where did you get that cat?”

I pointed to his breakfast. “I didn’t make that bread.”

“But it was here on the counter when I woke up.” He held out his hands in confusion. I could understand why this was difficult for him. I had no idea how the food had arrived in our kitchen either. “Then someone must have snuck in and left it there. I sure didn’t.”

Kent walked to the backdoor. Sure enough, the knob was unlocked. “I know I locked this.”

I held my hands in the air. “I haven’t touched it.”

His brows furrowed as he locked the door, hurried past me into the kitchen and lowered himself into the dinette chair. “I don’t like this, Laura. What’s going on?”

I shrugged, willing my heart rate to slow down to normal, willing my face to not give away my alarm, and willing my life to be anything other than what it had turned out to be. There was so much I wanted to say, yet so much I couldn’t. I mean, someone had recorded a conversation inside my house, for goodness sakes! Impulsively, I pushed a button on the radio on my kitchen counter. Rap music filled the room. I cranked it.

“I wish I knew. I just know that someone poisoned Candace and I don’t want the same to happen to you.”

Kent jerked his head back. “Why would someone want to poison me? And why are we listening to this?”

“New hobby.” Was this my opportunity to dig deeper with my husband? I sucked in a breath and met his gaze. I lowered myself across from him at the dinette. “That’s a good question. Why would they want to poison you? Maybe it has to do with your work at the pharmacy?”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t know anything. The police already questioned me yesterday.” He held up his coffee. “Is it safe to drink this?” He laughed and took a sip.

Great, he thought I was crazy.

I ignored that and focused on what he’d said before that. “The police questioned you?”

“There were drugs found on the pork rinds. It only makes sense that the police would come to the only pharmacist in town. However, if the person who poisoned Candace came to me, he’d be a few bricks shorts of a stack. I’m sure he or she used one of the pharmacies up in Indy.” Kent took another sip of his steaming coffee.

I walked over to the pot and got my own cup. This was definitely a multi-cup morning. I tried to sound casual when I asked, “So, you haven’t filled any prescriptions for sleeping pills?”

“Of course I have. Sleeping pills are very common. I can’t tell you how many people in town use sleeping pills. You’ve used sleeping pills.”

I ignored the coffee as it burned my tongue. “Who else?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

He had to be so ethical. Which was the very reason I loved him. He was a man with morals, a near anomaly it seemed sometimes. I leaned against the kitchen counter and collected my thoughts. “I hate to say it, Kent, but I think you know something about Candace’s murder, whether you realize it or not. Why else would someone be trying to poison you?”

“Poison me? Someone breaks in and leaves banana bread in our kitchen, and you automatically think I’m being poisoned?”

I realized it did sound rather hasty to someone who hadn’t read the threatening note. I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Why else would someone leave banana bread?”

“To be a good neighbor?”

“Good neighbors don’t break into homes. They leave cakes and cookies on the doorstep, maybe. They don’t barge in. Unless you’re Babe, and Babe was with me all night.”

He got up and refilled his coffee. “Okay, maybe. But I still think it’s over the top to assume the bread is poisoned. And if it is, who says I’m the target? Maybe you know something about Candace’s murder that you’re not realizing.”

“So it makes more sense for someone to be trying to poison me?” I plopped down into the chair across from him. “Besides, how did someone get into our house?”

“We should call the police, I guess. It’s a rather odd crime, but with everything that’s been happening lately—”

I sighed and pictured Chief Romeo. “They just left.”

“What do you mean?”

I explained what happened at the Flynns’ and how we ended up with the cat.

Kent shook his head. “Do me a favor? Call the police and let them know what happened. I’ve got to get ready for work.”

“Did you decide about that couch?”

I swallowed my pride for a moment in order to pretend like I wanted Yvonne’s advice. “I don’t want the watermelon one. I would like to pick out one for my husband’s room.”

Her eyes widened and her fingers went to her lips. “He has a separate room? I’m sorry, dear.”

I shook my head. “No, not like that. He wants a man cave. You know, a place of his own.”

Yvonne let her hand dropped before snickering. “A man cave? Sounds typical. And let me guess—he wants it in time for the Super Bowl?”

Kent hadn’t said that, but now that Yvonne mentioned it, maybe getting the room together for the big day was a good idea. It could be my anniversary gift to him. I smiled as I thought about our anniversary. I couldn’t wait to see what Kent had planned for us. Every year he surprised me with something—a trip, a romantic date, jewelry. What would he come up with this year? I needed our anniversary to solidify our relationship.

I wandered around until I found the perfect couch for Kent— dark brown leather, soft and comfortable. I could easily see him stretched out across it, relaxing after a hard day of work.

“This is the one!”

Yvonne smiled. “Great! Let’s go back to my office and have you fill out the paperwork. It will only take a few minutes.”

“Sounds good.”

She led me away from the showroom, down a yellow cinder- block hallway and into an overcrowded, outdated office. She pulled out a clipboard from a desk drawer and handed it to me. “I just need some basic information.”

I tried to focus on the papers in front of me and resist the urge to let my eyes wander. What kind of clues about Jerry and Candace waited in this office? Had the police already been here to look for evidence? I wanted to snoop, but instead I kept my gaze focused.

Until I heard a bell chime at the front of the store.

Yvonne jerked her head toward the noise. “Listen, I’m the only one working right now—Lou’s out to lunch. Can you sit tight a minute?”

Could I ever. “Of course.” I watched her leave before lowering the clipboard. My gaze roamed the small space. On a shelf behind the desk, I saw a picture of Jerry, dressed in his kingly attire. There was also a golfing trophy and that gaudy crown he wore in all his commercials.

This was Jerry’s office!

My adrenaline surged.

In the distance, I heard Yvonne trying to sell that watermelon- colored couch. Maybe I still had a few minutes before she came back to check on me.

I dodged the desk and plopped into the chair behind it. A calendar was shoved off to the side, covered in papers. Carefully, I slid it out and opened it to January. Various appointments were marked, most of them routine and not helpful. I ran my finger over the week Candace had died. Jerry hadn’t marked his South Carolina golf outing there. How strange that he wouldn’t put that on his calendar.

Yvonne’s voice carried into the office. She was still trying to convince her customers that buying that coral-colored couch would set them apart from everyone else they knew. I couldn’t deny the truth in that statement.

Quickly, I opened the top drawer. Nothing except pencils and paper clips.

I opened the next drawer. Beef jerky and candy bars.

Yvonne’s voice sounded closer. My heart beat double-time. I couldn’t get caught snooping. I eased the drawer shut and propelled myself to the other side of the desk. I grabbed the clipboard just as Yvonne stuck her head back into the office.

“I’ll just be another few minutes.” Yvonne patted her hair. “Are you okay in here?”

I offered what I hoped to be a sincere-looking smile. “Just fine.”