14
I stood petrified in front of my closet, hand outstretched, but holding nothing. Dinner with Dad, Laura, and Paul. All of them. At the same time. What in the world was I supposed to wear?
Misfit, as usual, wasn’t being any help. He lay on the bed, watching me with a bored expression on his fuzzy face. Every so often, his tail would swish and his ears twitch. I had the distinct impression he was judging me for my indecision.
“What if Paul decides to make a big announcement tonight?” I asked him, earning me another tail swish. Paul had been wanting to talk to me about something important for months now, but had yet to do so. Could this be the night he finally spits it out?
Tonight. In front of Dad and Laura. I might die.
It was almost a blessing when my phone rang and I saw my best friend’s name on the screen. I snatched it up like it was a lifeline and answered with a hearty, “Hi, Vicki! How are you doing?”
There was a pregnant pause. “Krissy. You sound . . . odd. Is everything okay?”
I cleared my throat and wandered out of the bedroom and Misfit’s eyeline. Maybe a few minutes away from his judgmental stare—and the closet—would give me some sort of insight. “I’m fine. Just a little stressed.”
“Uh-oh. Did something happen at Death by Coffee?”
“No, it’s not that.” I took a deep breath and gave her a quick rundown of my dinner predicament. I decided not to bring up the murder. “What about you?” I asked when I was done. “How’s it going between Raymond, Regina, and your family?”
Vicki groaned. “Mom and Dad are unbearable, as usual. And, because it’s my life, they’re getting along great with Raymond and Regina.”
It was my turn to say, “Uh-oh. That sounds bad for you and Mason.”
“Oh, it is. Every conversation is full of disapproving looks, backhanded compliments, and outright insults. Mason’s been making himself scarce, complaining that he’s sick one minute, or he’s wrenched his back and needs to sit down the next. When we’re alone, he’s perfectly fine, of course.” A pause. “Actually, I’m starting to wonder if he might be on to something.”
“Tell him he’s a wimp for me.”
Vicki laughed. “I’ll do that.”
In the background, I heard Mason ask, “What are you two planning? And can I be a part of it?”
“Hey, I saw Valerie Kemp the other day,” Vicki said, after presumably waving Mason into silence. “Did you know she is opening a coffee shop here in California?”
“Yeah, she called me earlier today. She wanted to know what we paid our employees. Didn’t she talk to you when you saw her?”
“She didn’t see me. I kind of avoided her and that monstrosity she’s opening. It looks . . .” I could visualize the frown. “Like Valerie.”
Considering her overdone, over-sprayed hair, her too-short skirts, and less than stellar attitude, I could only imagine what that looked like.
“Do you know how long it’ll be until she opens?”
“I’m not sure. I’d say soon, by the looks of it. She was there with a couple of bubblegum-snapping teens I assume are her employees. They looked like mini-Valeries.”
I shuddered at the thought.
My phone beeped in my ear. A glance told me it was Rita. “Hey, Vicki, Rita’s beeping in and I’ve also got to get ready for dinner before Paul gets here, so I’d better go.”
“That’s all right. I need to go too. My parents are planning a dinner at their place. I might see if I can catch Mason’s faux-flu and watch Netflix instead.”
I laughed. “Good luck with that.” My phone beeped again. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll call you later, all right?”
“Have fun tonight.”
“I’m going to try.” I clicked over. “Hello, Rita. I can’t really talk so—”
“Oh, my Lordy Lou! Where is your father? I need to talk to him this very instant!”
If it had been anyone else, I might have been worried that something had happened. Being that it was Rita, and knowing her penchant for over-exaggerating, I was only mildly concerned. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, dear. Well, as fine as it can be under the circumstances. I just finished Scars of the Heart and let me tell you, that’s as aptly named of a book as I’ve ever read. My poor heart can hardly take it! I need to talk to James, and I need to do it now.”
“He’s not here right now,” I said. “I’m meeting him for dinner shortly. I can let him know to call you when I see him. It might not be until tomorrow before he can get back to you, though. I’m not sure how late we’re going to be out.”
“Tomorrow?” I could hear the horror in her voice. “No, that won’t work at all. Can I come over and wait with you? I’ll just need him for a short little while and then you can have him back and go to that dinner of yours.”
“He’s not coming here,” I said. “We’re meeting at Geraldo’s. Laura and Paul are going to be there. It’s a group thing. I’m sure you understand?”
“I see.” Rita sounded as if I’d just told her that Dad was on his last legs and would never speak to her again.
“Like I said, I can tell him to call you. If you don’t mind waiting up, I’m sure he’ll be happy to call you after dinner. It could be really late, and—”
“No, that’s all right, dear,” Rita said, cutting me off. “I’ll manage just fine. Don’t you worry about me.”
Alarm bells started clanging in my head. I narrowed my eyes, despite Rita not being able to see me. “Rita.” One word, all warning.
“No, no, dear, I’ll let you go. You enjoy your dinner, all right?”
And before I could utter another word, she disconnected.
I would have called her back and warned her against doing anything Rita-like, but a glance at the clock told me I was quickly running out of time. I returned to my bedroom where Misfit was still holding court. I took one look at my closet, and then decided that with it being Dad, I didn’t need to go overboard. Not that I had much in the way of dressy clothing to begin with.
I opted for a nice blouse and clean jeans and called it good. If Paul showed up in a suit and tie, I’d reconsider my outfit, but otherwise, I should be fine.
The next fifteen minutes were spent regretting my choices, but I steadfastly refused to change. Every so often, I’d peek out the window and check the neighbors. Caitlin appeared to be home alone, as did Jules and Lance. No prowlers. No mysterious cars coasting by.
No Jacob.
Once again, I wondered if his presence next door was a coincidence. I couldn’t make out the security camera in Caitlin’s window from this distance, but knew it was there. It had caught a prowler—and a killer—before. Maybe it caught whoever left the gift for Jules, whether it was Jacob or someone else.
“No, it’s too far,” I muttered. Still, I was halfway to the door, ready to go over and ask, when headlights lit up the front of my house. A moment later, Paul was climbing out of his car, a dark winter coat over a nice button-up shirt and jeans that matched my own outfit like we’d planned it.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked when I met him at the door. He sounded as nervous as I felt.
I checked to make sure Misfit’s bowls were full, grabbed my heavy coat, and then nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
And then we were off.
* * *
Walking through the doors at Geraldo’s always made me feel like I was transitioning into some sort of alternate dimension. From the outside, the restaurant looked as basic as could be. Just a sign and a brick building. Nothing special. It was easy to overlook.
But once you walked through the doors, everything changed. Light jazz played over hidden speakers. The walls were painted tastefully, the colored lighting was kept dim. The staff were dressed up in black-and-white ties and dresses, but the customers weren’t expected to do the same. It was the fanciest place in all of Pine Hills by a long shot.
“There they are,” I said, waving at Dad, who’d stood as soon as we’d entered. Laura was seated next to him, smiling. She looked a whole lot better than she had the last time I’d seen her. Healthy.
Paul and I crossed the relatively busy restaurant and joined them. Even with most of the tables full, the layout of Geraldo’s gave the illusion of privacy, so I wouldn’t feel the need to whisper if I had something important to say. But if Paul were to say something, shall we say, personal, then it would feel far too intimate.
“Hey, Buttercup,” Dad said, giving me a hug. “I’m sorry we haven’t spent more time together.”
“It’s all right. I’ve been busy and you had Laura to take care of.”
“Still . . .” He released me and turned to Paul.
We went around the table with hugs and greetings before we all took our seats. Wine had already been ordered, and while I normally didn’t drink, I decided to have a small glass anyway. Chances were, I’d be nursing that tiny bit all night, wincing after every sip, but it would feel weird to not join them.
Once the niceties were out of the way, Dad did the one thing I’d hoped he wouldn’t. He folded his hands on the table in front of him, looked straight at Paul, and said, “So, a murderer strikes Pine Hills once again, huh?”
“Dad!”
“No, it’s all right,” Paul said, reaching out and resting a hand on my wrist. “As it happens, yes one has, but it’s not my case. John Buchannan is running the investigation.”
“I’m sure you’re working with him on it,” Dad pressed. “The force here isn’t a large one.”
Paul shrugged, took a sip of wine. “We all do our part. There hasn’t been much for me to do other than look out for your daughter here.” He put his arm briefly around me and squeezed.
I, of course, blushed like a teenager.
“That’s good to hear,” Dad said, but he was undeterred. “How was he killed? I haven’t heard.”
Actually, now that I thought about it, neither had I.
Paul shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m not sure I should discuss it here.” He shot a look toward Laura.
“I was just thinking that if the victim was strangled, let’s say, it would reduce the number of suspects considerably.”
“He wasn’t strangled,” Paul said, before sighing. “A sharp object was used.”
“A knife?”
“Uncertain, but at this point, I don’t think so.”
“Why’s that?”
I turned to Laura and raised my voice, hoping to change the subject. “How are you feeling?”
“Great, actually. I still felt a little stuffy this morning, but that’s cleared up since then. Thank you for asking.”
“Any progress on where the gift boxes fit in to all of this?”
“None that I can discuss at this time.” Paul’s tone told me that he wasn’t going to say anything further on the matter, but Dad kept pressing.
“Do you have any suspects?” he asked.
“We do. But as I’m sure you understand, I cannot discuss them here.”
“Of course, of course.” Dad’s smile told me he’d caught on to Paul’s reluctance and was willing to let him off the hook. “I can’t help myself when it comes to this stuff. If Laura had been feeling better, I’d probably be at the station, peppering the whole department with questions for half the day. With my writing, firsthand experience can’t be beat. I wouldn’t use the exact details of the case in one of my stories, of course, but every detail could serve as an inspiration for a new book.”
“I’m sure Detective Buchannan would be willing to talk to you about it after it’s all over,” Paul said. “He could run you through his process, give you an inside look at how we operate.”
“Would he?” Dad leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, that would be great.”
I cut in. “What do you think about spending tomorrow together, Dad? We could go out, do some shopping.”
“Sounds great, Buttercup.” Dad flashed me a smile before turning back to Paul. “I heard other business owners were targeted. Should Krissy be concerned?”
Paul took another sip of wine, clearly reluctant to answer.
“James.” Laura took Dad’s hand in her own. “Let’s talk about something else, shall we? At least, before dinner. Afterward . . .” She shrugged.
Dad sighed, and then nodded. “Okay, sure. I’m sorry about that. I get carried away far too easily.”
“It’s quite all right,” Paul said, though he sounded relieved.
“There you are!”
My knees cracked against the underside of the table at the sound of the voice coming from directly behind me.
Rita pulled up a chair and crammed it between Dad and me. “When I talked to Krissy earlier, she told me you would be here.” She spoke as if she’d been a part of the conversation the entire time. “And boy, do I ever need to talk to you!” She wagged a finger at Dad. “I finished Scars, and oh, my . . .” She cooled herself off with a waving hand.
“Rita,” I said, trying hard not to grind my teeth. “What are you doing here?”
“Why, you told me all about this dinner, remember? I know you didn’t invite me directly, but you implied it.” She turned to Dad. “I hope that’s all right?”
“I never—”
“Of course, it’s all right,” he said, cutting me off with a placating smile. “We’re all friends here. Was there something about that book that displeased you?”
“Displeased?” Rita’s waving hand fluttered to her chest. “Not displeased, but shocked. I just have to know how the story ends! Is there any way you can give me a hint about what is going to happen in Fear of the Heart? That’s what it’s called, isn’t it?”
Dad was grinning from ear to ear now. He sat back in his chair and folded his hands atop his belly. “Well, I wish I could, but . . .”
It was as if the rest of us ceased to exist. Dad and Rita started talking about the books. Rita was barely able to contain her excitement, while Dad soaked it all in and teased her with tiny tidbits that told her absolutely nothing.
Laura gave me an eyeroll from across the table, telling me that this sort of thing happened all the time, which, I, of course, knew from experience, but had forgotten about since I no longer lived with him.
I’d contented myself on letting the evening slip away when I noticed that three new guests had entered. One of them, I knew.
I waved as Lena Allison’s roving eyes found me. She looked almost relieved, until she saw Paul sitting next to me. Two people I assumed were her parents were with her, and her mom leaned over to ask her a question. A moment later, and all three were on their way over, with Lena looking like a rabbit caught in a trap.
“Ms. Hancock,” Lena’s mom said. “Hi, I’m Janice Allison, Lena’s mother.” She reached out and I shook. “This is my husband, Cliff. We’re sorry if we’re interrupting your dinner.”
“No, not at all,” I said. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
“Likewise.” Janice’s smile seemed genuine. “Lena has said nothing but good things about you and your coffee shop.”
“That’s good to hear. I have nothing but good things to say about her.”
“We won’t keep you,” Cliff said, putting a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Jan wanted to meet you, and well . . . we have.”
Janice shot Cliff a look that could melt steel before turning back to me. “I do hope that we can talk sometime,” she said. “I’d love to pick your brain about a few things.”
“Would you like to join us?” Laura asked. “If it’s okay with everyone else?” She glanced around the table.
“The more the merrier,” Dad said. “I’d love to meet more people in my daughter’s life. I’m James Hancock, by the way.”
Lena paled, as introductions went around the table. Her dad, Cliff, seemed just as reluctant as she was, but Janice was determined to have her way.
A waiter was flagged down and in moments, we were all standing as another table was pulled over and chairs added. All the while, Lena looked sicker and sicker. Every few moments, her mom would lean over and whisper into her ear and Lena would shake her head.
Once we were seated, Janice turned to Paul and said, “So, I was wondering, you’re a local police officer, are you not?”
Before Paul could answer, Lena shot to her feet. “Excuse me a moment.” She bolted toward the restrooms.
I stood, worried. “Sorry. Me too.” I gave the table at large an apologetic smile, and then followed her.
Lena was leaning with her hands on the sink, head down, inside the women’s restroom when I entered. She jumped, looked ready to flee, before she realized it was me and breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t believe she did that.”
“Your mom?” At her nod, I said, “She seems nice.”
“Yeah. Nice and nosy.” Lena took a deep breath and pushed away from the sink. “I’m sorry about all of this. I can tell you wanted to have a nice dinner with your family and we butted in.”
“It’s okay.” When she gave me a skeptical look, I added, “Really. Rita had already crashed the party, so what’s three more?” I smiled, but when she didn’t return it, I let it fade. “Lena, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” She wouldn’t meet my eye.
“You’ve been acting strange ever since you’ve gotten back. Is it Zay? The bruise?”
Lena’s face bunched in confusion. “Zay? I told you what happened with him.”
“Are you sure that’s all there is to it?”
“I’m sure.” Firm, and with no hint of deception. “I mean, I didn’t tell you everything, but it had nothing to do with why we broke up. It was hard living on our own. I told you about our money issues. And then campus security cracked down on a group of us skateboarding in the lots at night when no one was around.” She rubbed at her arm.
A lightbulb went on in my head. “Is that how you got your bruise?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to make them out as bad people, but one of them grabbed me pretty hard, pulled me from my board, and just about cracked my skull on the concrete when he threw me down. They threatened to call the police on me, claiming I was causing trouble when all I was doing was blowing off steam with my friends.”
“Is that why you’ve been looking at Paul like that?” I asked. “Like you don’t trust him?”
“No. I don’t know. It’s just . . .” She frowned, looked at the tops of her shoes. “I guess I realized that this sort of stuff happens all the time. Not just to oddballs like me, but to anyone deemed a little different. You know what I mean?”
I nodded. I hadn’t experienced it myself, but I knew it happened a lot more than any of us would like.
“So, I started thinking. I was in school yet I didn’t know what it was I really wanted to do. I have stuff I like, but it feels more like hobbies than anything that would be an actual career. It might be fun and all, but it won’t pay the bills.”
The bathroom door opened, which caused Lena to tense. The woman who entered saw us standing at the sink, hesitated, and then turned and walked right back out.
Lena waited until she was gone before dropping it on me. “I think I want to be a cop.”
I blinked at her, surprised. “Like Paul?” Dumb question, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah. Maybe even here in Pine Hills. You know, make sure they treat everyone with respect, no matter who it is. I know the police here probably already do, but I keep thinking that if I were there, I could make sure of it.”
“And that’s why you’re so nervous around Paul and Buchannan.” I felt like I should have figured it out on my own, but that bruise had me thinking the worst.
Lena nodded as she scuffed a shoe on the floor. “His mom is the police chief. I thought that maybe he could help get me started, put a good word in for me or something.” Her shoulders sagged. “It’s stupid, I know.”
“No, it’s not.” Quite suddenly, it seemed like a perfect idea. “Talk to him. Tonight.”
Her eyes widened. “I couldn’t. That’s what Mom wants me to do, and I just . . .” She was shaking her head nonstop. “I wouldn’t know what to say. And even if he helps me out, I’d still have to go through training and I’m sure that’ll cost money I don’t have. And . . . and . . .”
“And I’ll help,” I said. “You can work at Death by Coffee for as long as you need to. We’d love to have you back. And I’m certain Paul would love to mentor you too. We all really do like you here, Lena.”
“Are you sure?” She looked pained. “I feel like I’m invading your space, forcing you into it.”
“I’m sure.” I pulled her into a hug and then led her toward the door. “Let’s go back out there and talk about it, all right? If Paul doesn’t think it’ll work out, he’ll tell you up front. But if he does . . .”
Lena took a deep breath, and let it out in a nervous laugh. “Okay. I guess we’re doing this then.”
“You are,” I said. “And I’ll be right there beside you.”