Justin rubbed his forehead as he considered what I’d told him. When he looked up, his expression still revealed his doubt. “But why would your boss kill Angelica Belmont?” he asked. “What’s his motive?”
I smiled, thankful that he was at least considering my suggestion. “To frame Michael Black for murder!” I spoke the words slowly. I raised my eyelids, meeting Justin’s confused expression. “I know he did it, Justin. I just don’t know why he did it. Or why he would frame Mr. Black.”
Justin’s face suddenly paled. I thought it might be from the lack of cool air in the house. “Justin,” I said. “Are you okay?” I jumped up. “I’ll go turn the temperature down on the air conditioner.”
I was almost to the hallway when he stopped me. “Sit back down,” he said. “I’m fine.”
I returned to the kitchen table, but remained standing. “What is it?” I asked. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
He motioned me to my seat. He remained silent for a moment, tracing his finger over the top of his soda can. “I might know the reason your boss would want to frame Michael Black,” he said softly.
I slid into my chair. “What is it?” I asked. My heart pounded with anticipation.
Justin continued to stare at the table. “Once the meeting at school was over today, the conversation turned toward Angelica Belmont.”
My heart raced so fast, I thought I might pass out. “What did they say?”
He glanced up, meeting my curious gaze. “Michael Black and Harry Winslow are partners,” he said. “And the school faculty isn’t crazy about all the students that hang around their diner, although they didn’t elaborate why.”
My mouth dropped. I tried to speak, but no words would form.
Justin reached for a paper napkin in the plastic container on the table and wiped his face. “They have been partners for years. Apparently Michael Black put up a lot of the money to buy the diner a few years ago.”
I jumped from my seat, knocking the chair to the floor. “Then that means Harry Winslow probably knew Mrs. Black died of cyanide poisoning ten years ago.” My eyes widened. “That’s gotta be it, Justin. Mr. Winslow poisoned Angelica with cyanide, knowing it would point the finger at his partner.”
Justin still didn’t look convinced. He scratched his head, while his eyes narrowed. “I admit it does look that way,” he agreed. “But why would he frame his partner for murder? I mean, if he wanted to get rid of Michael Black, why not kill him instead of his fiancée?”
I righted my chair and sat back down. Leaning over, I placed both elbows on the table, then rested my chin in my palms. “I already told you, Justin. I don’t know why he did it. I just know he did it!”
Justin shook his head slowly as if he still wasn’t convinced.
“Don’t you see?” I argued. “Mr. Winslow practically ordered me to take the wallet to Mr. Black instead of waiting for him to come in after it. It was no mistake that I walked in and found Angelica’s body.”
“But if he wanted you to find the body, why was she found in the river instead of in the house?”
I closed my eyes and sighed. “I don’t know the answer to that question, Justin. I guess it’s one of those puzzle pieces that doesn’t quite fit yet.” I smiled and sipped my drink. “I guess if all crimes made sense, they’d be easier to solve.”
My attempt at humor appeared lost on Justin. He pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. “I think it’s time to let your uncle know about your new discovery,” he said. “Believe me, he’s going to be plenty mad when he finds out you snuck off to see Michael Black on your own. And I really can’t blame him,” he added. “I think in light of what we’ve both learned today, we have no idea who we can trust.”
That’s for sure, I thought. I suddenly felt like a rubber ball being bounced back and forth to send suspicion from one partner to the other.
Scooping up our soda cans from the table, I tossed them into the trash, then followed Justin to the front door. I flipped off the ceiling fan, and was just stepping onto the front porch, when he spiraled backward. “Get back,” he shouted, pushing me back inside.
“What’s the matter with you?” I shouted.
Justin pushed the door shut and flattened his back against the closed door. His chest heaving, he paused to catch his breath. He glanced at me, his eyes wide and scared.
“What is it?” I asked again, afraid of the answer.
“There’s a red Toyota parked along the side of the road about two houses down.”
My own eyes widened. “Are you sure?” I put my hand to my chest to steady my irregular heartbeat. Of course he was sure, I realized. Justin wasn’t one to jump to conclusions. Besides the fear in his face spoke for itself.
“We have to get out of here!” I said, softly. I picked up my purse from the sofa and placed the strap around my shoulder.
For a brief second I considered suggesting that we race to the car and make a run for it. But where would we go? I realized. If whoever was in that Toyota knew we were in the house, they undoubtedly knew Justin’s car by now. And racing to Uncle Bob’s home or office would only place him in danger as well.
I reached up and secured the locks, then grabbed Justin’s arm. “Come on,” I said. “We can sneak out the back way.”
We raced for the rear door, when Justin suddenly stopped. “Maybe we should phone your uncle first,” he suggested. “We need to let him know what’s going on. Besides,” he added,” we need to keep the lines of communication open. He’ll have some ideas on how to proceed.”
I had to think fast. Uncle Bob’s incompetence was not something I wanted to share with Justin right now—especially not when our lives might be in danger.
“I don’t think we should take the time,” I responded. “If someone in that Toyota is after us, I doubt they’ll wait too long before making a move. We need to go now and call later.”
“I guess you’re right.” He slid open the sliding glass door and shoved me out.
I hated leaving the house with a door unlocked. But I didn’t have a key for the back door. While it was usually such a nice, quiet neighborhood, my training had warned me against leaving with unsecured doors or windows. But it couldn’t be helped this time, I told myself. The back door was our only hope for escape.
A slight breeze flirted against my legs, reminding me I hadn’t changed out of my work uniform. For a brief second I considered going back inside to change, but quickly banished that thought from my mind. Like it or not, we were on the run. Time was of the essence.
Thankfully, my parents had installed a privacy fence around the back yard. That would shield our escape from our stalkers for a while, but I was sure they would soon figure out that we had escaped from the back.
Keeping low, we raced across the small yard. With Justin’s help, I scaled the wooden fence and jumped into the neighbor’s backyard. Justin was just seconds behind me.
I stood up, smoothing my dress into a more respectable position. “Are you okay?” Justin asked.
I blew out a small breath and started to answer yes, when the unexpected growl of a large Doberman pinscher stopped me cold. Poised for attack, his menacing white teeth sent a new kind of fear racing up my spine.
“Go!” Justin shoved me back around.
He didn’t have to explain. With record speed, we both landed back into my parents’ yard just as we heard the ferocious dog’s large paws claw at the other side.
“Now what?” I asked. My rapid breathing was making me light-headed.
Justin inhaled a deep breath, then let it out. “Same thing,” he answered. He nodded toward the corner of the fence. “We’ll try for the next yard.” He glanced at me and smiled. “How many ferocious dogs can there be in one quiet neighborhood, anyway,” he joked.
The next yard was uneventful, but we still had to climb over several more fences to reach what we considered a safe destination. I followed Justin through numerous backyards and side streets, until we finally emerged into a section of town I didn’t recognize.
I had no idea where we were or how far away from home we’d travelled. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was tired of running.
Out of breath, I tugged Justin’s arm, making him stop. “Where are we going?”
He tossed me a wink. “I have an idea,” he said. “I know a place where we can hide while we figure out what to do next. It’s someplace no one will think to look for us.”
I bent over and balanced my hands on my knees, catching my breath. “Do you think Mr. Winslow saw you when you walked outside?” I asked between breaths.
Justin leaned against a lamppost inhaling long breaths of air. Once his breathing calmed, he glanced my way, his eyes narrowed. “Denise,” he said. “How can you be so sure it was Winslow in that car?” he asked.
“I thought we’d already established that fact,” I responded. I straightened up. “I told you earlier that I don’t think Michael Black killed Angelica. I saw his face, Justin. I saw the pain in his eyes. Believe me, he couldn’t have done it.”
“Maybe not. But remember, he also told you that the red Toyota is his! How could Mr. Winslow still be driving it without Michael Black knowing about it?”
My head was spinning too fast. I steadied myself by leaning on the same lamppost as Justin. Was I a pawn in someone’s dangerous game of murder, I wondered. And if so, whose?
“Why is this happening?” I said. “How did I get involved in this nightmare?” I glanced at Justin and forced a smile. “Mom and Dad were so anxious for me to work at the diner,” I told him. “I’ll bet they never dreamed that being a waitress could be so dangerous.”
Justin reached for my hand. “Denise,” he said, a look of concern in his eyes.
I nodded. There was no need for him to say anything else. I knew what he was thinking. And as much as I hated to admit it, I knew it was time to call my uncle.
“Okay,” I said, softly. “You’re right. It’s time to call Uncle Bob.”
Justin reached into his pocket for his cell phone, then squeezed my hand suddenly. “There isn’t time for that now,” he said, fear etched around his eyes. He nodded over his shoulder.
I followed his gaze to the intersection a few yards from where we were standing. A red Toyota was just getting ready to make the turn in our direction.
“Let’s get out of here,” I whispered. “That dog’s barking must have alerted him that we slipped out the back way. He’s probably been circling neighborhoods looking for us.”
Justin took my hand. “Let’s go,” he said.
I followed his lead. “Please tell me you still have a plan,” I begged.
“I do,” he answered. “I’ve had a plan since we left your house.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was tired enough to follow him anywhere.
“Actually, we’ve been headed in the right direction all along,” he said with a wink. “Just a few more tricks and turns and we’ll be safe.”
I prayed he was right. It seemed like forever since I’d felt safe. All I wanted for the moment was a nice cool place to rest my tired feet. Thankfully Mr. Winslow forced his waitresses to wear sensible, comfortable shoes for work. While the thick-cushioned soles made running easier, my throat remained parched from lack of liquid. If I’d known when we’d left the house that we’d be running for so long, I’d have grabbed a couple bottles of water from the refrigerator.
About ten minutes later, Justin slowed his pace. “Recognize this area?” he asked me.
I didn’t. It looked like all the other neighborhoods we’d been through this morning. We walked a few more steps, then stopped in front of a brick house with sagging window boxes.
Justin’s smile widened. “Now do you recognize it?” he asked again.
I returned his smile. “Your new house,” I said.
He reached into his pocket and dangled keys. “I managed to get the utilities turned on before the meeting this morning,” he told me. “No furniture yet, but at least we’ll be safe here.”
He led the way up the cracked driveway and unlocked the front door. The room still had the same musty smell as before. Justin led me inside, then locked the door behind him and flipped on the overhead light. “Looks like the utility company did as promised,” he said. “I’ll go turn on the air conditioner and cool this place down.”
While Justin fiddled with the thermostat, I walked into the kitchen and turned on the faucet. Cupping my hands, I let the cold water collect, then scooped it into my mouth.
“Save some of that for me,” Justin said, entering the kitchen.
I splashed a few drops onto my face, then moved aside. “Help yourself,” I said. I leaned my arms behind me on the counter. “I don’t suppose you have any food in this house yet, do you?”
Justin shut off the faucet. “Afraid not,” he answered. “There is a convenience store about a half mile from here. I’ll run down and get us something to eat and drink in a bit. But first I just want to sit for a while to catch my breath.”
I couldn’t argue with that. In the living room, I sat on the floor and crossed my legs beneath me. Stretching my arms overhead, I worked my aching muscles. “Justin,” I finally said combing a hand through my tangled hair. “Do you think it’s possible that Mr. Winslow and Michael Black are in on this together?”
Justin sat down next to me. “I’ve been wondering the same thing,” he admitted. “For one thing, that day at the diner when your boss told you to return the wallet on your way to work? How could he have known the owner lived conveniently close enough for you to do that and still make it to work on time?”
“Exactly,” I said with a nod. “And like I told you earlier, Mr. Winslow actually used Michael Black’s name when he asked if I had returned the wallet later that afternoon.” I turned to face him. “I swear to you, Justin. I never told Winslow who the wallet belonged to. That can’t just be a coincidence.”
Justin closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He shook his head as if finding it all too hard to believe. I was just thankful that it seemed he was finally coming around to my way of thinking. There was no doubt in my mind now that I’d been set up. I just didn’t know why.
Justin opened his eyes and placed his hand over mine. “It’s that red Toyota that’s still bothering me,” he admitted. “I mean, even if it was Mr. Winslow driving it before, there’s no way he could still be driving it without Michael Black knowing about it.” He squeezed my hand and pulled his eyebrows together. “Which means that Michael Black is definitely involved,” Justin said. “We just don’t know how.”