Read Between the Tines (9 page)

He clamped his hand on his gun and cocked a hip, all the while looking at me in the way he did when I caught him kissing Abby Miller in eighth grade.

I lifted my hands. "Fine, I'll go. But you might want to think about working with me on this one instead of fighting me all the way."

A flash of surprise traveled his face. "You want to work with me?"

"Well, yeah, I mean if it meant I could catch
Gary
's killer, I'd work with just about anyone."

His lighthearted expression turned to a scowl. "I'm a law enforcement officer. You're a civilian. We'll both be better off if you remember that." He waved at my truck. "Better be going now."

Baffled at his waffling mood, I climbed into my truck. I gave him a puzzled look then drove off. I would never, no matter the years I lived, understand the adult Mitch Lawson. For a few seconds there, he'd acted as if maybe he missed our friendship, but then the Grinch of a cop returned.

I stopped at the gate where the guard shoved my license out his window with a scowl and warned me not to tell anyone I'd been in the lot. Good, that must mean he hadn't gotten into any trouble yet for letting me in. I assured him I would keep quiet and pointed my truck for The Garden Gate.

The shop was quiet when I entered through the rear door. Adam's muffled voice drifting out of my office was the only discernable sound. A quick smile at hearing his voice broke out but disappeared as my deception filtered in. I had to fess up to my involvement in the murder investigation. Yet, I feared this would bring Adam the dictator back. A man I didn't want to see again.

At the doorway, I took a deep breath and let it out. Adam stood, his back to me, one hand holding his cell, the other clasped around the back of his neck. I waited by the door as he continued his conversation. His tone was miffed, bordering on angry. A trickle of unease settled in my stomach. Probably not a good time to broach my subject. But a very good time to observe the man who was confusing me as much as Mitch was.

The rich green shirt contrasted with the warm chocolate of his hair and fit as if tailored for him. Not ripped with a six-pack, he was toned and healthy. Slowly, as if feeling me looking at him, he turned. I expected a smile when our eyes met. Instead, he frowned and clutched a clump of his hair.

He couldn’t know where I'd been, could he? If he lived here in Serendipity, I'd worry one of the locals had told him I was asking questions around town, but they wouldn't rat me out to a stranger.

"Keep after it, Rhonda," he barked at his assistant. "Call me back as soon as you know anything." He clicked off and set his phone on my desk mounded in paperwork. "Where have you been? I've tried calling you for the last hour." His testy tone carried over to me.

Needing a second to gather my courage, I pulled my cell from the belt clip and found five missed calls. I clicked through and deleted all of them before deactivating the silent mode. Looking back up, I sucked in a breath at the thunder in his eyes. I'd never seen him like this. Certainly not a time to announce my duplicity, but I couldn't lie. "My phone was on silent. I was doing something for Karen. So how did the meeting with Mitch go?"

"He was pretty understanding, but Daisy is still a suspect. The meeting was interrupted when someone called to say they found
Gary
's car. It was at his office. We rescheduled for tomorrow morning."

How should I respond to the news of
Gary
's car? With surprise? Adam would surely expect me to latch onto this comment and ask for more details. Or was it time to tell him I'd kept something from him?

"What's up with you?" he asked, and let his eyes bore into mine. "You seem kind of jumpy. Is something wrong?"

"I—"

His cell rang, literally saving me by the bell. He flipped it open. "Rhonda." He listened intently, his eyes growing tighter and his free hand fisting. "Tell him I'll get there as soon as I can. And not to say anything until then." He clapped the phone closed. "Sorry, I've gotta go."

"Something wrong?" I stepped out of the doorway to make room for him to pass.

He came around the desk. "One of my clients. A month ago, he was arrested on murder charges that were dropped. You know how I don't ask my clients if they're guilty. Lets me provide a better defense if I don't know. Well he insisted on telling me he didn't do it. Now the cops picked him up with the murder weapon in his possession." He stopped inches away, placed his hands on my hips and looked deeply into my eyes.

My heart kicked into gear as it always did when he was this close and I looked up hoping for a kiss goodbye.

"Nothing worse than someone who keeps the truth from you," he said and my hopes deflated. "I can forgive anything, but misleading me is tops on the list of things I struggle with." He planted a whisper soft kiss on my cheek then pulled me into a fierce hug and hissed out a long breath. "Gotta go. I'll call you later."

I leaned on the doorjamb, my stomach tight. I was Judas. Well, nearly anyway. I didn't give the kiss, but I was the betrayer. I had to tell Adam the truth. I just had to. But how could I? Simple. I couldn't. Not after I saw how he responded to his client's lie. I not only couldn't tell him, I absolutely couldn't let him find out. Ever.

To keep my mind off Adam, as truly I wouldn't choose to pay bills for any other reason, I bid Hazel farewell for the night and started writing checks. Watching the checking account balance dwindle, I knew Hazel was right. I couldn't keep hiring the waifs of the world unless I increased business. And I couldn't increase business if I spent all my time searching out killers.

Killers? Yes, good idea. Put away bills that could wait for another day and look at the Pacific Pickles website to see if it provides any clues to
Gary
's killer. I'd start with photos to see if
Gary
was in any of them.

The first picture showed the executive management team.
Gary
stood between Mary Stills and a portly man who looked like he was about to burst through his suit coat. All six of the people had forced, sort of practiced smiles that said hurry up get the picture over with.

I scrolled down the page and searched through candid shots taken at the company picnic and Christmas party. Unless
Gary
played Santa, he wasn't in any of the shots. At the end of the photos I switched to the About page and pulled out my notepad in case anything of interest showed up.

I'd start with the company history. Founded in 1947 by Mr. Langley, the company boasted three plants, one in
Texas
, another in
California
and the one here in Serendipity, which also served as the main headquarters. Hmm, never knew the factory here also housed the headquarters. So that meant the people pictured in the executive management photo were the management staff for the whole company, not just the local plant. Interesting, but did that have anything to do with
Gary
's death?

I flipped the pad to a clean sheet and started a list of questions for Nathan Jacobs. My cell split the silence. I jumped and Mr. T flapped his feathers and squawked.

"Lisa," I said. "How are things going at Karen's?"

"I'm about to leave. Perry's already fed the girls and I'm in no mood to fix something for myself. You want to meet at The Bakery to grab a bite?"

I should stay and go back to bill paying, but I could run the leads I'd discovered past Lisa to get her take on things and that was oh so much more fun than writing checks.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," I said and logged off the website. I hustled around the small room, depositing the checkbook and bank bag into the safe then snatching up my notebook to continue the list when I got home. Lastly, I grabbed my coffee cup to rinse on the way out and headed to the door. "See you later, old buddy," I said to Mr. T and flipped off the lights.

"Night, John Boy," he replied, sending a smile onto my face.

I stopped to swish the mug in water and put it in a plastic bin. Tomorrow, if Daisy came to work, her first job would be to load all the dirty mugs from customers into the dishwasher in the small kitchen. And if it was a really good day, she would break less than two of them.

I tossed my notepad into the truck, climbed in and set off for The Bakery. I could easily have walked the distance as I lived close by and could stand to stretch muscles that were tight from loading the trailer, but I didn't like to leave my truck at the shop overnight.

At The Bakery, I pushed open the glass door sporting a days worth of fingerprints and scanned the room. Lisa already sat at a table for two snugged against the far wall. I strode across the room passing vinyl stools fixed in front of a long counter that ran the length of the space. Owner Donna Davis, wearing a white apron over a faded pink nylon uniform, waved to me as she chatted with customers.

A few years back, Donna had taken the original restaurant that hadn't been updated in decades and remodeled it into a fifties diner. She installed authentic looking reproductions from the time and the staff dressed in fifties style. I felt like I'd stepped onto the set of
Grease
every time I came in the door.

"You don't look so good," I said to Lisa and plopped onto a soft padded chair next to her.

"Hah! Neither do you." I hated to admit it, but I'm sure her words rang true.

I was tired of seeing my friends with red-rimmed eyes and haunted looks. First, Daisy then Karen, and Hazel—though for a different reason—and even Verna had a morbid cast to her face.

"Ladies," Donna said. "You two look like you could use a good hot meal." She turned to Lisa. "Heard you've been with Karen all day. How's she doing?"

"Like you might think. In shock. One moment in denial, the next despair." Lisa sounded as if she was recalling her past loss instead of Karen's recent one.

"And you, Paige." Donna pivoted to face me. "Finding another body like that. You've got to be freaked out."

Hello, it was Daisy who found
Gary
.
Why did everyone insist I found the body? "Daisy's the one who had to see him up close."

"You didn't? But everyone's talking about how you saw him." Donna's tone held all the interest of a motorist passing an accident.

I felt like she was training a microscope on me and so were the other diners in the place who were straining to here our conversation. "Look, Donna, can we change the subject?"

Her face flooded with hurt. "Sure. Sure. Why don't I take your order? What looks good to you?"

"Honestly," I said, feeling bad for just being mean to her. "I need a minute."
A minute to get over your bringing up the body.

She pulled out her order pad. "I'll just get your drinks, then. What'll you have?"

Lisa and I placed our orders, and after jotting them down, Donna tipped her head at the grill. "I'll be right over there. Holler when you're ready."

Lisa scooted closer and lowered her voice. "Was this how it was when you found Bud? Everyone wanting to know the details like that?"

"Yeah, but worse. Because I
did
find him and each time they asked if I saw his head lying on my shovel, the sight of it came back. This time I'm a bit detached."

"Like I was when I discovered you and Bud. Funny how no one really asked me about that."

"You were lucky." I didn't want to remember the day I'd stabbed my shovel into a mound of mulch on my construction site and found Bud. Lisa arrived moments later. Now a month later, even when people around me weren't talking about it, the ugly picture popped into my head at the worst times.

Lisa shifted on her seat. "After hearing Donna, I can see why you're so insistent on finding the killer. If people kept coming up to me, asking for details, I'd want to investigate things just to end it and shut them up."

"Maybe that's part of it, but, honestly, I don't think so. With Bud, I had to clear my name. But with
Gary
, it's an almost overwhelming desire to help Karen that's making me to do it."

"So what did Adam say when you told him?"

"I didn't."

Her eyes flew open. "You didn't—"

"Wait, before you go crazy, I had my reasons." I explained Adam's forbidding me to help Daisy, and his betrayal by his client. "So what would you have done?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Paige. I hope I would have told him, but I really don't know. You've gotten yourself into another fine mess."

"Thanks. Like I didn't know that."

"Well what did you want me to say?"

"How about, Adam's not acting like himself. He's just stressed, and he'll return to the more rational man I thought I knew."

"Is he? Or is he really like this? He's Perry's friend not mine. For all I know he could be a control freak like you."

"Will you do me a favor? Ask Perry if Adam is usually so bossy."

Lisa laughed, a light tinkling titter. "I'll talk to him, but you know how men are. He probably doesn't know if Adam has this stubborn tendency."

"Just ask, okay?"

"When I get home tonight. Which I need to do soon so let's decide what to order."