Skating Around the Law

  Since the guy gave me a perfect opening, I said, “I was thinking about starting a gourmet club. Felix at the market said you and Bryan might be willing to join.”

  Reginald clapped his hands together with delight. “That would be great. I love to cook. Bryan tends to burn things, but I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to join. When do we meet?”

  Good question. Too bad I didn’t have an answer. “Why don’t you give me your phone number, and I’ll call you when I find other members. You’re the first people I asked.”

  I swear to God Reginald looked like he was going to cry. He raced into the house and returned with his phone number scribbled onto a yellow square of paper along with an exuberant smile. “This really means a lot to us.”

  The guy was so sincere in his gratitude. Knowing that I was lying to him made me feel like dirt.

  I pocketed Reginald’s number and told him, “I’ll call you in a couple of days to give you an update. Oh, one other question. Do you guys go to the Lutheran church?” I figured it didn’t hurt to ask, on the long shot that Reginald and Bryan were annoyed with the town and took it out on my Civic.

  Reginald shook his head. “No. We don’t go into town much, but maybe that will change now.”

  His hopeful smile followed me all the way to Lionel’s place. By the time I pulled up next to Lionel’s muscle truck, I’d created a potential club membership list. It wouldn’t hurt to have one meeting of the club before I left town, right?

  Elwood stuck his visor-clad head out of a stall and greeted me as I walked into the barn. I gave him a quick hug, and the animal took advantage of my closeness by placing a long, wet camel kiss on my cheek. The slobber was a little on the nasty side, but I smiled anyway. Things couldn’t be all bad if a camel loved you.

  I petted a couple of goats and scratched a pretty brown horse on my way down the aisle of the barn. Turning the corner, I ran smack into Lionel’s very muscular, very sexy chest.

  Lionel held me for a moment, then leaned back to get a good look at me. “Did something else happen I don’t know about?”

  I thought about the rink cancellations, Agnes’s arrest, and my new friend Reginald. “Nothing we can’t talk about later,” I said, batting my eyelashes.

  Lionel gave me a peck on the lips. When I tried to go back for seconds, Lionel held me at arm’s length. “I hate to say this, but we’re going to have company soon. I told you yesterday that we were having a game tonight. Doc, Zach, and Tom should be here in an hour or so. That leaves us with just enough time to catch up on things like Agnes’s arrest.”

  I could tell he’d heard about my activities on behalf of the jailed librarian. Only I wasn’t interested in that. I was busy doing the girl thing of mentally scrolling through yesterday’s conversation. There was a lot of yelling about Anthony and freaking out over Neil, but no mention of poker. “You never told me about tonight’s game.”

  He shrugged. “It must have slipped my mind. Well, you’re here, right? No damage done.”

  Wrong. I was wearing a tight, slinky top with a plunging neckline. Perfect for an evening with Lionel, but there was no way I was sitting across from Tom in this outfit.

  Lionel waited for me to spill my guts about Agnes. When it didn’t happen he let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t tell me. This is one of those woman things about communication or something. Okay, I’m sorry for not telling you about the poker game.” He gave me a smile. “Now will you tell me about Agnes? Maybe afterward you’ll let me kiss you.”

  Lionel’s hair was windblown, and his mouth was spread into a smile that made my toes curl up with anticipation. God, I wanted to give in. The Agnes/Tom story was a really good one, even if I couldn’t link Tom to the health food note. Words ached to leap from my mouth, but I bit my tongue and said, “Later. I have to go home and change before the game.”

  “Why?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I can’t play poker with Tom Owens looking down my shirt.” Besides, I had a few loose ends I needed to tie up before being able to concentrate on playing poker.

  I climbed back in my car and made it to the rink in nine minutes flat. The lack of traffic was one thing I would miss when I went back to Chicago.

  I changed into a pair of loose-fitting jeans, a modestly cut T-shirt, and a pair of red tennis shoes. I looked about as provocative as a marshmallow, and the transformation had only taken five minutes. That meant I had at least an hour before the game started.

  Hopping back in my car, I tooled past Shear Highlights. The light was on, so I parked in front of the salon and knocked on the door. A frowning Annette appeared and unlocked the door.

  “What are you doing here, Rebecca?”

  Not the most friendly of welcomes, but I smiled anyway. “I saw the light and thought I’d ask you a few more questions about that psychiatrist you referred me to.”

  “I’m glad you’re thinking about talking to someone. It can really help.”

  While she seemed genuinely pleased, she didn’t invite me in. “I was surprised when you said your psychiatrist prescribed medication. What kind are you taking?”

  Annette’s eyes darted toward the back of the store. “You know, I can’t really talk about this right now. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

  Without waiting for my answer she closed the door, turned the lock, and disappeared into the salon. I stood on the sidewalk fluctuating between bursts of irritation and concern. Annette had been acting strange ever since I questioned her about the note she wrote to Mack—like she had something to hide. Annette loved all foods greasy and fattening, so I was pretty sure she wasn’t Mack’s killer. Still, her behavior made me wonder what secret she was protecting.

  Mind whirling, I got back in the car and pulled around the block. My foot hit the brakes as I watched Danielle Martinez cross from the sidewalk through the front doors of St. Mark’s Church. I glanced at the clock. Questioning Danielle would only take a few minutes. If I was late to the poker game, Lionel and the guys would just start without me. No big deal.

  I parked next to the church and walked inside. The place was deserted. Clearly God wasn’t as big a draw as the Cineplex on a Wednesday night. I checked out the statue. Aside from the nail in my purse, Jesus was intact. My car was safe…for now.

  Following the discreet signs hung near the front and side doors, I entered a linoleum-tiled hallway. That led me to the church’s set of offices and Danielle Martinez. She was seated behind a small reception desk, her eyes riveted on the compact in her hand. Smiling, she closed the compact. The smile disappeared and her eyes widened when she spotted me.

  I gave her a smile. “Hi, Danielle. I had no idea church receptionists work so late.”

  Danielle’s lips thinned into a single line. “I’m not actually working right now. I have a date.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “With Pastor Rich?” She gave me a sharp look, so I explained, “I heard from someone here in town that the two of you were dating.”

  “Is that a problem?” Danielle’s chin rose. Her tone was defiant. Why? Did she actually think I cared who she dated? I had more important things to worry about, like staying alive.

  “No problem. I was just making conversation.” I walked to the side of the desk and smiled. “You know, I was at the market talking to Felix about starting a gourmet food club. He mentioned you liked health foods.” Danielle’s head tilted to the side as her eyes filled with a wary confusion.

  I leaned forward. “You wouldn’t by any chance eat wheat germ, bean sprouts, and tofu, would you?”

  Danielle stood up and hastily began shoveling makeup from the desk into her purse. This woman no longer looked confused. She looked terrified. “I really should go before we’re late. Richard must have lost track of time. We have reservations.”

  She slung her purse over her shoulder. The strap broke, sending the purse and its contents crashing to the ground. Danielle scurried to collect her makeup. In an effort to be helpful, I got on my hands and knees and rummaged under the desk. My
fingers tightened around a plastic tube. Triumphant, I got to my feet, opened my hand, and stared down at a tube of lipstick.

  A dim lightbulb began to flicker in the back of my brain.

  “Can I have that back?” Danielle held out her hand as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

  I took a step back so Danielle couldn’t take the tube of lipstick and began digging through my purse. “This color is really unique,” I said. “Give me a minute to write down the name of it. I want to look for it in the store.”

  “Here, I’ll write it down for you. Just give me my lipstick back.” Danielle reached for a notepad on her desk as my fingers found the item I’d been looking for. I pulled a lipstick-coated paper napkin out of my purse, and surprise—Danielle’s lipstick was a perfect match.

  Twenty

  “You know, Danielle”—I set the tube of lipstick on the desk—“I don’t want this lipstick after all. The color isn’t right for me. It wasn’t right for the rink’s front door, either.”

  All color drained out of Danielle’s face. Unlikely as it seemed, my verbal thrust scored a direct hit. Danielle, the pastor’s girlfriend, had scribbled on the rink’s front door. She was the maniac I was looking for. That also meant she was Mack’s killer.

  Only now that I’d found her, I didn’t know what to do with her. The woman was whacked. For all I knew she had a knife or a gun stashed somewhere. I took a step backward as Danielle’s hand moved toward a letter opener lying on her desk. For once, calling Deputy Sean sounded like a good idea.

  Slowly, my hand reached into my purse. I pulled out the phone and began pressing buttons.

  “Who are you calling?”

  I looked up at the sound of Danielle’s trembling voice. She looked scared. Pissed off, I’d understand—but scared? Something didn’t feel right. My finger paused over the last number. “The sheriff,” I answered her.

  Danielle sank into her chair as tears welled up in her dark brown eyes. She shot a look toward the pastor’s office door. Whispering, she begged, “Please don’t call the sheriff. Calling the cops will ruin my life.”

  Sounded fair to me. Keeping Danielle’s life on track wasn’t high on my priority list. I shook my head. “Sorry, but you’ve been busy destroying mine for the past two weeks, not to mention the fact that you killed Mack Murphy. I’d say your concern for other people’s lives is flexible at best.”

  “Mack Murphy?” Danielle blinked, and her head cocked to one side. “What are you talking about?”

  “What do you mean what am I talking about?” I demanded. “You killed Mack.”

  “No, I didn’t,” she said, shrinking back in her chair. “I liked Mack. Why would I kill him?”

  Good question. Too bad I didn’t have an answer. I studied Danielle carefully. She didn’t look like she was lying. She also didn’t look like a person who’d set fire to an innocent scarecrow, but her reaction to the revealing lipstick said she had. She had to be the person who killed Mack; otherwise, why would she have bothered trying to scare me into leaving town? None of this made sense.

  I clutched my phone. “You killed him for the same reason you’ve been terrorizing me—you’re nuts.”

  Danielle’s eyes met mine, and tears leaked down her face. “I’m sorry I did those things to you, but I didn’t kill Mack. I swear.”

  My heart sank. I believed her. The woman looked scared and unhappy. She didn’t look like she was plotting how to off me. I lowered the phone. “Why did you threaten me and flatten my tire? What did I ever do to you?”

  “Nothing, yet,” she sniffled, “but it was only a matter of time. You’d tell someone in town that you knew me, and then my life would be ruined. I had no choice. I had to scare you into leaving town. It was the only way.”

  I took a long look at Danielle. She seemed to think I knew something incriminating about her, but I didn’t. I didn’t know her, period. The woman really needed to get a grip. “Danielle,” I said, “I don’t know you.”

  Disbelief sparkled in her eyes, and her body began to tremble. “I did it all for nothing? I thought you recognized me from a Christmas party I worked. It was two years ago, but I remember you. You were there.”

  I mentally rewound my life. Two years ago Neil threw a Christmas party. The guest list included everyone he’d ever met, including the entire office staff. That night Jasmine’s date consumed too much holiday cheer. In his liquor-induced haze, he decided I was a Christmas present. Before he got too forceful about unwrapping me, the entertainment arrived. The creep’s attention was diverted when he spotted the sexy Ms. Claus and her elflike girls that Neil had hired to take pictures, sing songs, and jingle their bells. After that all I remembered was doing my best to keep Jasmine from clawing her soon-to-be-ex’s eyes out as he ogled the entertainment. I had no clue how Danielle fit into the whole mess, but apparently she did.

  Wait. Maybe it was the tilt of her head or the fall of her hair, but suddenly I remembered. Danielle Martinez, Lutheran church receptionist and Pastor Rich’s girlfriend, was a stripper.

  Holy shit, I thought. “You were Ms. Claus.”

  “You really didn’t remember me?”

  “Not until just now.”

  “Figures.” Danielle gave a dejected shrug. “I was certain you’d remember since you were right up front with your friend.”

  “I wasn’t really paying attention to you. No offense.”

  “I wish more people had your ability to forget. Not long after the party, I got my degree and gave it up. I hoped to meet a nice guy and have a couple of kids, but strippers don’t have those kinds of lives, at least not where people know them. So last year I moved here.”

  “Then you started dating Pastor Rich.” I was beginning to understand her motives even if I didn’t agree with her method.

  “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you driving around town. I knew I had to get you to leave before my life was ruined.” Danielle wiped at her eyes. “So I tried to scare you into leaving, but you wouldn’t go away.”

  “Trust me, I wanted to.”

  She sniffled. “Really?”

  “Really.” I must’ve been the only person on earth who would find it necessary to bolster the ego of my would-be stalker. Funny, but I could actually forgive Danielle’s antics now that I knew her reasons. There was only one thing that still bothered me. “Danielle, did you mean to hurt Neil?”

  Her eyes welled up again. “I didn’t plan to. Someone told me you moved into the rink, so I decided to see if it was true. Only he opened the door. I remembered him from the Christmas party. He wanted way more than just a dance. When I saw him standing there I freaked. I didn’t even think. I just hit him with my flashlight. Once he was on the floor I didn’t know what else to do, so I tied him up.”

  I couldn’t fault Danielle for her instincts. Neil could come on a little strong. More than once I myself had had the urge to crack him over the head. In a strange way, Danielle did me a favor. Maybe the woman wasn’t so bad after all.

  Danielle wiped her eyes with a tissue and gave me a watery smile. “Don’t worry about calling the cops. I’ll turn myself in. I deserve to go to jail for everything I’ve done.”

  “No, you don’t,” I said firmly. Okay, I know that after all the problems Danielle had caused, she really should be in jail, but I didn’t want to be the one to send her there. Danielle came to Indian Falls to turn her life around, and she had until I showed up. Besides, I thought, no permanent damage was done. I was fine. Pop was fine. Neil had a bump, but he’d be back to normal in no time. Well, as close as he could get. The world wouldn’t be a safer place with Danielle locked up.

  “Look,” I said, “maybe we can work something out.”

  Danielle’s tears stopped. Her mouth turned up in a tentative smile. “Why? I tried to destroy your life.”

  “Well, you didn’t,” I said. “Besides, we have something in common.”

  “Like what?”

  I started to explain about my experiences with
Neil and stopped. That conversation needed more time than we had right now. I said, “Why don’t we get together sometime for coffee and talk about it?”

  I left a smiling Danielle convinced I’d made the right choice about calling the cops. With Mack’s killer still at large, what was one more crazy person loose on the streets of Indian Falls?

  • • •

  I parked in Lionel’s driveway next to a row of cars. The gang was here and ready to play poker. I strolled toward the barn, and Elwood trotted with me through the dimly lit building to the back room.

  Doc Truman spotted me and smiled, causing Lionel to turn and cross the room toward me. Before I could say hello, Lionel’s mouth was on mine. I scooted back out of Lionel’s embrace with an apologetic smile. Having three other guys in the room and a camel behind me made me feel funny about the public display.

  “Feeling frisky?” I asked Lionel.

  “I missed you.” He grinned. “You were gone a long time.”

  I smiled up at Lionel. “Sorry for the wait, but I had a couple of stops to make.” I glanced over to the table, where the guys were waiting for the game to start. Doc and Zach were chatting. Tom was glowering—at Lionel.

  I asked, “Did something happen while I was gone?”

  “Not much.” Lionel leaned close. I gave him a stern look, and he admitted, “Tom and I had a few words about having his aunt locked up. Everyone knows Agnes couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “I don’t like you sticking your nose in my business,” Tom blustered from his seat next to Doc. I couldn’t help feeling a stab of satisfaction when I realized his eyes were watering and still a little puffy. Way to go, Precious!

  Lionel ignored Tom’s surliness. “Let’s play poker.” He took his seat at the poker table while I took mine, bewildered by the lack of conflict resolution. Tom shuffled the cards. Lionel passed him some chips. I thought the whole thing said worlds about the male psyche.

  Two hours later, I’d played very few hands. I wasn’t in the mood for cards. My mind was on other things. I hoped Agnes was sprung by now, and I was thrilled to know my grandfather’s lawn ornaments were safe from Danielle. Too bad I didn’t know who killed Mack. Plus I couldn’t get past Annette’s strange behavior. It haunted me.