Opal Fire Page 17

  She fumed. “Stacy, tourists hate to read about dead bodies and murders while they’re scarfing down burgers. Ruins their whole weekend. Don’t suppose your grandmother can support herself on Social Security.”

  She smiled the way Lucy would before she yanked the football away from Charlie Brown.

  I was too tired to think of a clever comeback so I pulled her hat over her face and went to get my license.

  Chance graciously waited for me and dropped me at City Hall when I was finished. He hugged me close and said, “Please be careful.”

  “I will. Thanks for the ride.”

  A smile formed on his face as his mind minced my words into a double entendre and he drove away.

  I was about to rap on Kirk McAllister’s door when I heard a loud voice drift through the wood.

  “Kirkie, no. I wanna go home now.” The slow drawl belonged to Eddie, Kirk’s brother.

  Eddie. He won the bid for the mason work.

  If Kirk responded I couldn’t hear it.

  Eddie came through again, shouting. “You can’t make me! I do good work!”

  A muffled tone. Then Eddie said, “You stop now! I’m going!”

  The knob twisted and I stood there facing Kirk and Eddie.

  Eddie pushed past me and ran down the steps.

  “Eddie!” Kirk shouted, but his brother kept going.

  He sighed and turned to me. “What can I do for you, Stacy?”

  “I was wondering if I might take a look at Cinnamon’s proposal for the renovations she had in mind at the Opal.”

  “Okay.” Kirk’s eyes watched as Eddie shoved the door open. “Well, I can dig it out for you, but it will take a while. It’s been filed already.”

  “I can wait,” I said. “Actually, I was really interested in the bids.”

  “The bids? Why?”

  Good question. Why would I want those? “Well, I thought I might have a patio put in at the cottage, so I could use some contacts.”

  “I could put a list together for you.”

  Of course he could. That was the kind of week I was having.

  “Well, it’s been my understanding that when it comes to the businesses and the historic nature of Main Street, contractors can be quite fair. For the private sector, though, I heard prices vary greatly, so I was just hoping to get an idea of what to expect someone to charge per hour.”

  Kirk looked at me like I was snowing him, which, of course, I was.

  “The bids are confidential until the request filters through the entire approval process and since the fire, everything has been put on hold. We’re waiting for the insurance report.”

  “But I thought Eddie was pretty much approved to do the job?”

  “Well, he was in the lead, he’s the best mason worker around, but the initial request called for carpentry and metal work as well. There was a newer construction company with subcontractors who could have done it all at a pretty fair price that I was about to show to Cinnamon before the fire.”

  Kirk said he would give me a call after he pulled together the contact list. I thanked him and left City Hall non-plussed. But something about that brotherly exchange didn’t sit well. The vision I had at the Elk’s Lodge–Kirk standing over a fresh grave–penetrated my mind.

  I thanked Kirk and jogged across the street to meet Leo.

  Could Kirk have had something to do with the fire? And who was lying in the gravesite? I tried to recall the voice I had heard from the scrying session. I thought it was deeper than Kirk’s, but could it have belonged to him? He would have been just past thirty in 1989. Eddie was ten years younger.

  “Stacy?” Betty interrupted my thoughts. Her bouffant hairdo took up all the space in the threshold and her lilac perfume took up all the space in my lungs. “You coming in, honey?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  “He’s waiting for you in his office.” Betty went back to her tabloid and I pushed through the little half gate.

  I sometimes wonder if, had I knocked first, things would have turned out differently.

  Leo smiled when he saw me and I barely got the door closed when I said, “You are going to be proud of me.” I slithered to his desk, leaned over and grabbed his shirt.

  As I was kissing him a voice said, “So why is that, Miss Justice? Did you not find any dead bodies this afternoon?”

  Son of a bitch.

  I pulled back, pasted on a smile, and faced the Mayor.

  “That’s right, Mr. Mayor. Just the one.”

  “Well maybe things will pick up.” He filled the folding chair in Leo’s office. Legs crossed, hands steady, he had the practiced aura of a man who never lost at poker.

  “So,” I turned back to Leo, “what did you want to see me about? Did you find any evidence in my water-logged vehicle?”

  “No. We’re still working on the Jeep, it’s some mess. No prints on the scalpel either.” Leo darted his eyes to his favorite uncle. “I wanted to give you this.” He handed me an envelope.

  I raised my eyebrows at him and opened the envelope. Inside were a brochure and a ticket for a cruise. I was flabbergasted.

  “We’re going on a cruise!” My voice raised an octave and I smiled back at the Mayor.

  He avoided my eyes.

  “Wow, Leo, this is perfect. As soon as things settle down.”

  Leo stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Actually. It’s just for you. I thought you could use a break.”

  I dropped the envelope.

  “Are you kidding? Leo, I’m working on a story.”

  “You mean interfering with an investigation,” said the Mayor.

  I backed up, so I could look at both of them.

  “No. I’m working on a story.” I said it slow and clear so no one would be confused.

  The Mayor stood. “Is that what you call telling the parents of a lost girl that their daughter is dead?”

  “That was an accident.”

  “Yes, well your accident,” he used finger quotes. I hated that. “Had me on the phone for an hour with a distraught mother. I had to promise her we would find the girl’s killer.”

  “We will,” I said.

  “WE HAVE NO BODY!” The Mayor shouted. “Now, if it even was the Sims girl, how do I tell them they can’t bury their daughter?”

  No one spoke for a minute. A wave of guilt washed over me.

  I spoke softly. “It was her. The clothes she was wearing, the pin. I saw the same pin in a photograph at her home.”

  “Gone,” said Leo.

  “But I saw them. I can identify her possessions,” I said, aching for her parents. I knew I screwed up, but I couldn’t do anything about that now.

  The Mayor stepped forward. “You will do no such thing, Miss Justice. I want you off this story, before you screw up this case and more people wind up with their throats slit.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Mayor, you have no authority over me. You can’t force me into submission.”

  “No.” He reached for his hat and coat. “But I do have authority in this town. Things like Bed and Breakfast licenses, building permits and liquor ordinances are well within my reach.”

  I watched him leave and then I turned to Leo. “Did he just threaten my whole fucking family?” I said.

  Leo looked down and raked his hand over his hair.

  “Leo?”

  He sighed. “Take the cruise.”

  “What?” I was shocked. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Stacy,” Leo said sharply, “I’m afraid what will happen to you if you keep pushing this. You have taken this thing to a whole different level. It’s not your job anymore, you made it personal. You’re not thinking clearly and you need to stop and gain some perspective.” He raised his voice, “Leave the investigating to me. Are we clear?”

  I was so angry my hands were shaking, but my voice was low and steady. “Now you listen to me, Leo. I nearly died in that fire. My cousin nearly died. She lost her livelihood. The business she poured blood, sweat and te
ars into. Someone ran me off the road, tossed a rock through my window, and planted an explosive on my porch. It is personal, goddammit!”

  I stopped talking when I realized I wasn’t helping my case.

  Leo put a hand on my shoulder. “Please, get out of town for a while. Let me figure out who’s doing this.”

  I shrugged him off. I had every intention of telling him about how the fire started when I walked in there, about the mysterious deliveryman. But now, something made me keep that from him.

  “I can’t walk away, Leo.” I met his eyes and said, “And if you can’t understand that, we’re done here.”

  Leo stepped forward, his dark eyes meeting mine. “Okay,” he sighed. “We won’t talk about it anymore. I’ll call you later.”

  “No.” I shook my head and pointed between us. “I mean WE are done.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Anger has a strange way of keeping a body warm. Despite the arctic temperatures and the clouds snatching the sunshine, my blood boiled as I thought of Leo’s utter gall of trying to send me on a cruise so I wouldn’t impede the case.

  Okay, so I slipped up with Kathy’s parents and the coroner took one in the neck, but I was getting closer to the truth. Obviously someone wanted to hide any evidence Kathy’s autopsy might have revealed and poor Mr. Sagnoski got in the way. But I didn’t ask for that, anymore than I asked for a rock through my window or a chicken with a firework shoved up its butt.

  Did he really think my leaving would make everything all better? And if he did, what did that say about his feelings for me?

  My moon boots carried me up the hill to the cottage where I was hoping to find a car. Thankfully, Gramps came through.

  It was a beast of a vehicle with four-wheel drive and the perks you would expect from a man of wealth. The keys were on the seat and his note said simply, “enjoy.”

  The car was warming up as I dashed inside for my checkbook, the necklaces, and the Blessed Book. I ran several errands, which included replacing my cell phone, picking up a long wool coat, Sherpa-lined boots, hats, gloves, and a canvas tote.

  Then I called Derek and told him I would be around late in the day to pick up Thor. I left out my encounter with Monique. That needed to be reprimanded face-to-face. I fantasized of all the ways Cinnamon would make him cry as I drove out to the Sims’ place. The chimney was puffing out smoke as I rolled into the driveway half an hour later. I sat there for a minute, working up the courage to knock. I had to find out who Carol was.

  A pane of ice covered the steps leading to the bell. After a moment, the lace curtain fluttered and Mrs. Sims’ owl eyes stared through the glass.

  “You go away!” she said.

  “Mrs. Sims, I understand you’re upset. Please. I have a few more questions for you.”

  “Go away!” Her face was an angry knot.

  “Please, I just want to help.”

  She flapped her arms and screamed, “GO!”

  And her eyes said, “Haven’t you done enough?”

  I turned and shuffled down the steps, stabbed with guilt.

  In the parking lot of a fast food restaurant, I called information and connected to Matt Huckleberry.

  “Huckleberry Tree Farm,” said Matt.

  “Hi, Matt, this is Stacy Justice. I was wondering if I could ask you a question.”

  “Sure, Stacy.”

  “Did you know a Carol back in high school?”

  Matt didn’t hesitate. “Sure. She was Kathy’s best girlfriend.”

  “Do you know where I might find her?”

  “Sure.”

  I guess when you own a tree farm, the tendency is to send everyone you ever met a Christmas card in October.

  Carol lived a few blocks from the Sims’ and thanks to Gramps’ super mobile, I found it easily through the GPS.

  The house itself, a stately mini-mansion, with etched glass windows and round pillars, overshadowed the tiny lot it sat on. Carol had done well for herself.

  A tall, frazzled woman with a baby on her hip greeted me. “Come on in,” she said. “The room is upstairs. I have no idea what to do with it, but I can’t stand the pink.”

  I followed her in and said, “Um, I think—”

  “Billy!” she screamed. “Stop hitting your brother!”

  Billy put the bat down and pouted. His brother looked pleased. Seemed like a setup to me.

  “Go on, I have to feed the baby, but I’ll meet you upstairs in a minute,” she said.

  “Excuse me, Carol?”

  “Yes?” She brushed her hair back and wiped spit off the baby’s mouth at the same time.

  “Hi, I think you have me confused with someone else.”

  “Aren’t you from Defined Concepts?”

  “No.”

  Carol looked disappointed.

  “I’m Stacy Justice. I wanted to talk to you about Kathy Sims.”

  Carol blinked, then swayed. I grabbed the baby just before she fell into the carpet.

  “She never told me his name,” she said fifteen minutes later.

  We were sitting at Carol’s kitchen table, me with a baby in my lap and vomit on my new coat, Carol with a glass of water.

  The baby fussed and Carol lifted him from my lap. “Sorry about your coat.”

  “No problem.” I pulled the necklace from my pocket. “Did this belong to Kathy?”

  Carol examined it and shrugged. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  I tucked it away and asked. “Do you know if she was pregnant?”

  Carol nodded. “A week before she left, we took a pregnancy test together. I did it just so she wouldn’t be nervous. Hers was positive.”

  “Did she tell anyone?”

  “Not that I know of. I don’t even think she told him. But she wanted the baby. She was a wild child, for sure,” Carol’s eyes flicked to her own children, “but she said to me that she was going to keep it no matter what. I figured that was why she ran. Her parents never would have understood. Her Dad would have killed her.”

  “And you have no idea who the father was?”

  She shook her head. “Just that he was a cop.”

  I snapped to attention. “A cop? Are you sure?” Of course! The star. The star from the scrying session. It was a badge.

  “Yes. That’s why she wouldn’t tell me who he was. He was older and she didn’t want to get him in trouble. You don’t think he had something to do with her disappearance do you?”

  I wasn’t about to stick my foot in my mouth again so I just told her I didn’t know.

  But I did.

  I knew now that a police officer was the father of Kathy’s unborn child.

  And she lost her life because of it.

  CHAPTER 23

  My rearview mirror got a workout as I sped towards Amethyst. I wasn’t about to lose another vehicle to water damage. Thankfully, there was no sign of anyone following me.

  A cop. I didn’t see that coming. If a police officer got an eighteen-year-old girl pregnant, it might not ruin his career, but if that girl was under-age when their relationship began, that was a whole other ball game. A statutory rape conviction would put him in prison with criminals he had sent away. He wouldn’t last a second. Carol didn’t know what town the guy worked in, or if he was with the county sheriff’s office.

  Which made it harder to identify him.

  I spotted Eddie McAllister patching a wall along the river as I coasted into town. I still didn’t understand what the conversation meant between him and his brother, but I was certain I could squeeze more out of Eddie than Kirk.

  I pulled over and trotted to Eddie. His breath sliced the air in short bursts and his gloves were covered in wet cement.

  “Hi Eddie. Got a minute?”

  He didn’t look up. “Very busy. Need to work.”

  “Well, that’s okay. Maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee when you’re through?”

  Eddie mixed up more cement which didn’t look easy given the frigid temperatures. “Why?”
<
br />   “Well, because you look cold and coffee is hot.”

  Eddie’s head was bent over his work. “Hot chocolate tastes better.”

  “Hot chocolate it is, then. Meet me across the street at Muddy Waters?”

  “Okay.” He tested the goop with a small shovel.

  “What time do you think you’ll be done?”

  “I stop at five o’clock.”

  “Five o’clock it is then.”

  When I got to the paper, I marched into Derek’s office first and slammed the door.

  Thor trotted to greet me and I told him to lie down.

  “It’s about damn time, Justice,” Derek said. “This dog snores, farts and burps more than my grandpa. It’s disgusting.”

  “Where did you go to journalism school?”

  Derek gave me an odd look. “Why?”

  “Because I want to know what kind of school teaches students to discuss stories with the town tramp.”

  Derek swigged his water and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I plastered my hands on his desk and said, “I had a conversation with your booty call.”

  Derek looked away, then met my eyes. “Let me explain.”

  “Explain what?” I threw my hands up.

  “Monique was scared about the fire and the arson rumors, so I was just trying to ease her mind.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Monique.” I folded my arms.

  “Then she got me drunk and I didn’t know what the hell I was saying.”

  “That sounds like Monique.”

  Derek humbled for the first time in front of me. “My bad,” he said.

  Thor trotted to my hip. “Just don’t do it again,” I said. I clutched the handle and added, “In fact, don’t go near that woman without protection.”

  “You mean a condom?”

  “I was thinking more like Cinnamon.”

  I gave Derek my new cell number and told him to pass it on. Then I polished some copy and sent Thor to do his business before I paid a visit to Gladys.