Kirk’s statement left me so surprised that it took me a moment to find my voice. “If Ida wasn’t blackmailing you, who was?”
“How the hell should I know?”
I pressed the fingers of one hand to my forehead, feeling completely befuddled, a condition that wasn’t helped in any way by the oppressive heat of the store. “Back up a bit. How do you know it wasn’t Ida?”
At first I thought Kirk wouldn’t answer, that instead he’d tell me again to get out of his store, but after glowering at me for another few seconds, he seemed to resign himself to having the conversation.
“When the note was slipped under my shop’s door, I thought right away that it had to be Ida.”
“Because she knew about your illegal activities?” Ivan asked.
“Hey, I run an aboveboard establishment here.”
His objection wasn’t particularly convincing, and when Ivan and I said nothing, he eventually continued.
“Whatever. She thought she knew I was involved in something shady. She’d implied as much in the past. Plus, the location of the drop was telling, or so I thought.”
“Telling how?” I asked.
“The note said to leave the money in a paper bag under the bench on the west side of Wildwood Park, next to the drinking fountain.”
“So?” I didn’t see how that implicated Ida.
“She always sat on that bench,” Kirk said. “Every day, feeding the damn pigeons.”
“Okay, then what made you think she wasn’t the blackmailer after all?”
“I went to her place to confront her. I tore up the note and threw it at her feet, told her there was no way I was paying her a single cent. She could go to the police if she wanted to, but good luck trying to pin anything on me. There was no proof.” He sat down on his stool. “She said she had no idea what I was talking about.”
“And you believed her?” Ivan sounded incredulous.
“Not because she denied knowing anything about the note, but because of the look on her face when I confronted her. I know that woman could lie through her teeth, but I’m pretty good at sussing out when someone’s being real or not. And I’m telling you, she really didn’t know what I was talking about.”
“But you have no idea who the blackmailer really is?”
“Not a clue.” He got up from his stool again and put a hand into his pocket, jangling what sounded like a set of keys.
“You didn’t hang around the park to see who picked up your money?”
Kirk looked at me as though I were stupid. “I didn’t put any money in the park. You think I’m gonna dance just because someone tells me to dance? I’ve got nothing to be afraid of. Like I said, the police can’t pin nothing on me.” He came out from behind the counter and herded me and Ivan toward the door. “Now, if you’ll get out of my store, I’m closing up for lunch.”
Deciding I wouldn’t get anything more out of the shop owner, I didn’t resist his attempts to get rid of us. As soon as Ivan and I were out on the sidewalk, Kirk locked the door and flipped the OPEN sign around so the CLOSED side faced outward. I remained standing in the hot sun, barely aware of its intense rays.
“I’m so confused,” I said with a shake of my head. “If Ida wasn’t the one blackmailing Kirk, then she probably wasn’t the one blackmailing Mr. Haynes or anyone else. And if she wasn’t blackmailing anyone, then several of my suspects no longer have a motive.” A thought struck me. “Unless the killer was being blackmailed and—like Kirk did at first—believed Ida was behind it. They might have killed her, not knowing they were mistaken.”
Ivan grunted, and I wasn’t sure if he was endorsing that idea or not.
“But at any rate, I can strike Kirk off the suspect list. He probably is involved in something less than legal, but I think he believes what he said—that the police wouldn’t be able to pin anything on him—and he knew Ida wasn’t the one threatening him.”
“Sounds right,” Ivan said.
I thought things over. “Maybe I should talk to Sheryl Haynes again and see what she has to say about the blackmail. If Melinda found a blackmail note among her father’s belongings—which I think is likely—then the fact that she went charging over to Ida’s house suggests that she believed Ida was behind it. And if Sheryl found out about the note from Melinda, then she might have believed the same thing. Either one of them could have confronted Ida and killed her in the process.”
Ivan crossed his arms over his chest again, watching me steadily. “You’re going to talk with her now?”
“If she’s home.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
I was about to tell him that wasn’t necessary, that I didn’t think I had anything to fear from Sheryl Haynes, but then I stopped myself. After all, if she was a killer, she was dangerous. And after my altercation with her daughter the day before, I didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks.
“Thanks, Ivan,” I said instead.
We made our way to Sheryl’s house, where we found her on her front porch, a watering can in hand, tending to the flowers in the boxes beneath the windows. When we turned up the walkway, she looked our way and frowned. She set down the watering can and rested her hands on her hips.
“I had a distressed phone call from my daughter yesterday,” she said when we reached the base of the porch steps. “What do you think you were doing upsetting her like that?”
“I’m sorry I upset her,” I said, still standing at the bottom of the steps. “But did she mention that she tried to attack me? I don’t think that was warranted.”
Sheryl’s frown deepened. “She didn’t mention that, and of course she was out of line doing that, but so were you.”
“Maybe so, but I’m trying to figure out who killed Ida.”
“And you think my daughter did? Absolutely ridiculous.” She fingered the string of pearls around her neck. “I told you before, she couldn’t have. She was in my line of sight all morning, except for when she went over to Ida’s place, and she was out in the open when she did that.”
I didn’t bother to contradict her, even though Melinda had given me a different story. “Your daughter is only one of several people who might have wanted Ida dead, but she did find the blackmail note.”
Sheryl sighed. “So you know about that. She was angry about it, yes, but she certainly didn’t kill the woman.”
I gestured at the chairs on the front porch. “May we?”
Sheryl let out another sigh, but she took a seat in the nearest chair, crossing her legs and sitting primly, her hands resting on her knee. I took a seat a few feet away from her and Ivan remained standing at the top of the steps, arms once again crossed over his chest. Sheryl sent an uneasy glance his way, but then returned her eyes to me, her expression one of obvious disapproval.
“I don’t know what else you expect me to tell you. Melinda didn’t kill Ida, and I’d appreciate it if you left us alone from now on.”
“I just have a few questions about the blackmail,” I said.
Her expression didn’t change, but she didn’t object, and I took that as a sign of acquiescence.
“What was it about the note that made Melinda think Ida was behind it?” I figured her answer would be the same as Kirk’s, but I wanted to be sure.
“Aside from the fact that blackmail seemed right up Ida’s alley?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “The note said to leave the money under a bench in the park, a bench where Ida sits pretty much every day. And the fact that she lived right next door meant that she probably had an opportunity to, on occasion, overhear private conversations.”
Although I was tempted to ask what secret the blackmailer had held over Mr. Haynes’s head, I didn’t think that was relevant and I didn’t want Sheryl clamming up on me.
“Do you think your husband believed Ida was responsible as well?”
She was no longer frowning, but her mouth was fixed in a firm line. “I know he did.”
I blinked in surprise. “You knew about the blackmail when he was alive?”
“Of course. He told me about it when he received the note. We didn’t tell Melinda, because we didn’t want her getting upset. As you’ve seen for yourself, she has a tendency to…react rather strongly to things.”
That was putting it mildly, but I kept that thought to myself. “Did your husband do what the note told him to do? Did he ever catch sight of who picked up the money?”
“Of course he didn’t do what the note told him to do. Do you really think we’d give that witch a single cent?”
“So you don’t know for sure that it was Ida.”
“Who else would it have been?” She shook her head. “There’s no doubt in my mind that it was her.”
My thoughts were racing, but I managed to stay focused long enough to ask another question. “And what happened when your husband didn’t pay up? Did you receive any further threats?”
“No, nothing happened after that.” She smiled, although the expression held no good humor. “I knew her bark would be worse than her bite.” She stood up. “I’ve answered your questions, and now I’d like you to leave.”
“Fair enough.” I got up and started to follow Ivan down the steps.
“And Ms. McKinney?”
I paused and looked back.
“I’d appreciate it if you left me and my daughter alone from now on.”
“Of course.”
I could feel her eyes on my back as I met up with Ivan on the sidewalk. Without saying a word, we struck off in the direction of Ivan’s house. It was only once we’d reached the end of the street and had turned the corner that one of us spoke.
“Did you get what you needed?” Ivan asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “To be honest, I’m more confused than ever.”
“Then let it rest.”
I figured he probably meant let it rest for good, to let the sheriff untangle the mystery and find the killer. I wasn’t sure I could do that, but I suddenly felt weary from all the confusion and didn’t mind the idea of putting the investigation aside for an hour or two at least. Maybe a swim in the ocean and time lying on the beach was what I needed.
When we reached the end of another street, I paused and Ivan came to a stop next to me.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I said.
Ivan gave me a curt nod and said, “Be careful.”
Then he strode off toward his house.
I turned in the opposite direction, walking slowly, thinking as I went. I considered phoning Chloe to tell her that Ida wasn’t her blackmailer, but I quickly decided against it. I didn’t want to upset her by letting her know that the person who’d left her the note was likely still alive and able to threaten her again in the future.
As I followed a curving road toward the edge of town, the rumble of a lawn mower grew louder. A few properties down, I caught sight of a familiar figure guiding the machine around the front yard of a white Victorian.
I hesitated and considered making a detour, but it was too late for that. When Brett turned the machine in my direction, he saw me and cut off the motor with a grin. I tried my best to mirror his expression.
“Hey, what brings you to this part of town?”
“I’m just heading home from talking with Sheryl Haynes.”
Brett’s grin faded and the appearance of that familiar crease between his eyebrows conveyed his concern. “About the murder.”
“Yes.”
“Marley,” he said after a brief hesitation, “are you sure it’s a good idea to be getting involved in the investigation?”
“I want to clear my name, to find the real killer.”
“Of course you do, but you might be doing yourself more harm than good.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly wary of what he’d say next.
“You’ve got a cloud of suspicion over you,” he reminded me unnecessarily. “Your meddling could be seen as an attempt to manipulate the investigation.”
“Meddling?” The word came out heavy with indignation. “I’m not trying to meddle. I’m trying to help.”
I hated that my last word wavered, that it revealed the hurt I was feeling.
“Marley—” Brett said, but I didn’t stick around to let him continue.
Instead I stormed off along the sidewalk. Brett called my name again, but I didn’t slow my pace. When I reached the end of the street, I heard the lawn mower’s motor start up again. I kept up my pace until I reached home, and it was only then that I regretted my actions.
Picking up Flapjack, I cradled him in my arms and rested my cheek against the top of his head.
“What am I doing, Jack?” I said over the tabby’s rumbling purr. “I should be making things better with Brett, and instead I’m making them worse.”
Flapjack offered no wise counsel, but his presence at least helped to calm me down. I changed into my swimsuit and headed for the ocean, wishing the salty water could wash away my regrets. It didn’t, of course, and I was still in low spirits when I returned to the house after my swim. As I changed back into my shorts and tank top, I wondered how I could take my mind off my woes. I didn’t come up with any bright ideas, and ended up slouched on the couch, wallowing in my gloomy mood.
I was still sitting there twenty minutes later, as dispirited as ever, when I heard footsteps on the back porch. Brett appeared in the open doorway, stopping at the threshold, hesitant. His blue eyes met mine, and I could see that his regret was as strong as my own.
My heart clenched and I suddenly couldn’t stand the space between us. I left the couch behind and wrapped my arms around Brett. He pulled me close and held me, speaking into my hair.
“I’m sorry, Marley.”
“Me too.”
“I know you have good intentions. I just worry that other people won’t see it that way. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
I stepped back so I could look up at him, my eyes misty. “I know, and I’m lucky that you care.”
He pulled me close and then kissed me, a deep and lingering kiss that left me breathless and ready to float away.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, resting his forehead against mine.
I smiled. “Same here. Can you stay a while?”
“Definitely.”
We spent the next hour or so cooking, putting together fish tacos for our dinner and simply enjoying each other’s company. We ate out on the back porch with Flapjack for company. I filled Brett in on my visit to see Bentley at the vet clinic, and he told me he planned to pay a visit of his own the next day. Later in the evening, we wandered down to the beach and settled on a log. Brett wrapped his arms around me and I leaned against his chest.
Thoughts of clues and suspects had stayed at the back of my mind for the last couple of hours, and that’s where they remained. I was glad of that, wanting only to focus on Brett at the moment. I remembered my conversation with my mom, and a hum of unease crept through my body. Although I wanted to open up to Brett, I wasn’t sure where to start, so I stayed quiet as we listened to the lapping of the ocean waves and watched the tide creep slowly up the beach.
After a while, Brett gave me a gentle squeeze and kissed my temple. “Everything okay, Marley?”
I should have known that he’d notice my unease, even if it was subtle. My first instinct was to tell him I was fine, but I stopped myself, not wanting to go down that path again. Instead, I took a moment to appreciate how safe and happy I felt in his arms before responding.
“The other day when you asked if there was something on my mind, I didn’t give you the full answer.”
Although the change was slight, I felt his muscles tense.
“It’s nothing bad,” I hurried to assure him, not wanting him to think I was unhappy in our relationship, especially after our rocky afternoon. “I’ve just been a bit scared lately.”
“Because there’s a killer on the loose?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t have anything to do with that.” I paused to search for the right words.
“Marley?”
I knew I had to explain, whether I had the perfect words or not.
“I’ve been scared of us,” I said finally.
I tipped my head back so I could see his face. It didn’t surprise me that there was a crease between his eyebrows. He was probably confused as well as concerned at the moment.
“Maybe it’s more accurate to say I’ve been scared of how I feel about you,” I said, trying to do a better job of explaining. “I know we haven’t been together all that long yet, but I’m already crazy about you. And the closer I get to someone…”
“The harder it is to lose them,” he finished for me.
“Yes.” I looked down at his hands, held in my own. “Does that sound silly?”
“Not at all, especially after what you’ve been through.” He kissed my temple again. “I can’t promise that nothing bad will ever happen, Marley, but I’m crazy about you too, and I think we’ve got the makings of something really good between us.”
I smiled, warmed by his words. “So do I. And I don’t want to let fear ruin things. I won’t let it. But I wanted you to know what’s been going on in my head so you don’t get the wrong idea.”
“I’m glad you told me.”
I hadn’t realized that I was tense, but I relaxed with his words, resting more of my weight against his chest. “So am I.”
He ran his thumb back and forth over the knuckles of my right hand, and together with the breaking of the ocean waves, his touch soothed me into deeper relaxation. I still didn’t like keeping Chloe’s secret from him, but I was relieved that I’d finally been open with him about everything else. I was even more relieved by his understanding, and my feelings for him were now even stronger because of it.
As the sun slowly dipped toward the western horizon, I sat up and shifted on the log so I could kiss him. Maybe it was because I’d shared my fears with him, or maybe it was because I’d finally managed to push those fears into the background, but our kiss was even sweeter and deeper than usual. When it ended, I rested my head on his shoulder.
“I don’t want you to go,” I said with a sigh.
He spoke quietly into my hair. “I don’t have to.”
I took his hand and raised my head to meet his eyes. “Then stay.”