Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 08 - Foul Play (21 page)

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Authors: Christy Barritt

Tags: #Christian Mystery: Cozy - Crime Scene Cleaner - Virginia

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
32

He
smiled solemnly. “Hey, Gabby.”

I could har
dly walk and lost all my words. He met me, took my elbow as if he sensed my knees were weak, and helped me to my seat.

I still felt dazed
as I stared across the table at him. Riley was here. Riley.

Finally, some of my senses returned. “What … are you doing here?”

“Sierra called and told me what was going on. I knew I had to drive down here and talk to you myself. I found out who your counsel was and asked if I could help. It’s your decision, of course. But he agreed that I could meet with you.”

“Wow. I had no idea.”

“Are you holding up okay?” He leaned on his elbows across the table, his blue eyes studying my face.

I think I nodded. “As well as
can be expected. I could go to prison for one to five years, Riley.”

He shook his head.
“They won’t put you away for that long. I don’t think they’re going to put you away at all. Even with this so called evidence they have, you have no prior record and you have no motive.”

I just stared at Riley,
still unable to believe my eyes. For the most part, he looked the same as when I last saw him. He may have buffed up more. His hair was no longer shaggy, but neat and trimmed. He wore a black leather jacket and jeans. Even from where he sat, I could smell his subtle aftershave. Something about the scent brought immense comfort to my heart.

I studied his fac
e, looking for a sign of his injury. He still looked handsome. I didn’t see any scars, any indentations on his skull from his surgery.

“You can’t even tell by looking at me that they took a bul
let out of my brain, can you?” Riley asked, reading my thoughts.

I shook my head
, pulling my eyes away. “You’re looking good. How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. “A little better every day. Got my license back. I’m trying to engage my brain more. I just took a part-time position in order to do that. Still
doing therapy and working out. I’m getting back on track, Gabby.”

“I’m really
glad to hear that.” My throat felt tight as I said the words.

“The job is pretty lame. Lots of paperwork. Too much time behind the desk. But it’s a start.”

“Starts are good.” I attempted to smile.

Something seemed a little edgier about Riley, I realized. I couldn’t put m
y finger on what. But something was different … and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“I know we haven’t been in touch a lot lately,” he started, his voice softening. “My therapist really thinks it’s important that I concentrate on one thing at a time. She said relationships after brain injuries hardly ever survive. That’s why I want to do this right, Gabby. I want to fix myself before I involve anyone else.”

Then who was the girl in the picture? If I asked Riley, he’d know I’d been snooping on him. But if I didn’t ask … how would I ever know the answer?

“Getting you better is the most important thing here, Riley. I want that more than anything.” As soon as my words left my lips, I knew they were true. As much as I desired for things to be back to the way they used to, there were bigger issues at stake.
That didn’t necessarily help me with decisions about my future, though.

He
reached across the table, grabbed my hand, and squeezed. “Thank you, Gabby.”

“Should you even be here? I mean, aren’t you missing your therapy? Your new job?”

He shrugged. “I suppose. But first things first. I mean, you’ve been there for me on my darkest days. I couldn’t not be here for you.”

“That means a lot, Riley.” My heart warmed at his words.

“I mean it. Almost dying can put life into perspective. I needed to take this trip. For me and you.”

“Sierra and Chad are having a baby,” I blurted.

“That’s great.”

Everyone’s life is marching forward while I’m stepping in place. Maybe even backward.
Best-case scenario is that I’m moving parallel. What should I do?

I kept those thoughts silent.

“Time’s up!” the guard said.

Riley pulled back and straightened. “
I’m going to do whatever I can to help you, Gabby.”

“Thanks, Riley.”

As I was led back to my cell, all I could think was: It’s so hard to move forward when your past constantly comes back to haunt you.

I need a resurrection, Lord.

 

**
*

 

I couldn’t bring myself to call Paulette and tell her that I’d been arrested. I was still too unsettled about her role in all of this. But I had to tell someone that I wouldn’t make it to play practice tonight.

That’s why I called Mrs. Baker.

She answered on the first ring.

“Mrs. Baker, it’s Gabby.”

“Hey, Gabby. What’s wrong?”

I decided not to hold back.
“The police think I vandalized the school. I’m in jail.”

She gasped. “What?”

“Needless to say, I won’t be making it to practice tonight.” The words sounded so lame. I might as well have told her I’d been whisked off to Oz.

“Oh, Gabby. You would never d
o something like that.”

Hearing her
total faith in me made me feel somewhat better. At least someone believed in me. “Thanks, Mrs. Baker. The police feel differently, however.”

“I’m not usually one to encourage people to give up. But I’m wondering if this whole play is a bad idea. So many thin
gs have gone wrong, and I’m not just talking about the vandalisms or Scarlet’s death. The script and music … well, they’re not strong. But Paulette is banking so much on this.”

I frowned at the mention of Paulette. “I know.”

“And without you for a lead …”


Bennie may be able to fill in for me. I’ve heard her singing and she has a lovely voice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Gabby, I think you should know that we found out how that man
in the orchestra pit died.”

I held my breath. “Okay.”

“It was carbon monoxide poisoning.”

“Really?” I tried to put that together in my head,
to conjure a theory that made sense. I came up empty.

“Paulette also told me today that the play
may have to be delayed.”

“Why?”

“The police are questioning Arie about stealing someone else’s intellectual property. Apparently, she may have plagiarized
The Music of the Specter
.”

Charlie had checked out my story! Maybe there was hope. “I see.”

“It’s a mess, Gabby. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Arie, Paulette, and I are going to meet tonight to discuss things.”

I realized my talk time allocation was running out. “And one more thing, Mrs. Baker. Could we keep this between us? Could you just tell people I had an emergency? I need to buy myself some time.”

“I
will, Gabby. For as long as I can. But I won’t lie.”

“I’d never ask you to do that. Thank you, Mrs. Baker.”

“You’re welcome. And Gabby? I know this probably sounds strange. But everything does happen for a purpose. It may be hard to see, but there’s a blessing in this somewhere. Just keep your eyes open for it.”

I’d been arrested. Riley
had popped back into my life at either the best or worst time possible—I still wasn’t sure which. My business relationship with Chad was quickly disintegrating.

Here I am again, Lord. At the end of my rope. What possible purpose could all of this have?

 

**
*

 

Three hours later, I had another visitor. A real one, this time. Not a lawyer.

Garrett.

Something clashed in my heart when I spotted him on the other side of the glass. There was so much I liked about him. Yet the fact remained that he wasn’t Riley. The fact also remained that I needed to move on.

Just because Riley had visited me didn’t mean things were rosy for our future. There may not be any “our” future for the two of us. I had to get out of the state of limbo.

Why was life so complicated?

I picked up a phone so I could hear Garrett’s voice.

“I came as soon as I could,” he started. “I missed the first set of visiting hours.”


I’m still not sure about all their rules here. It’s been a blur.”

“I know. What did the judge say?”

I filled him in, ending with, “It looks like I’ll be stuck here for a while. I don’t even have any assets to liquidate. There’s no way I’m getting that money.”

“Let me help, Gabby.” Garrett’s eyes were intense, serious.

“I couldn’t do that.”


You know how fond I am of you, Gabby. I couldn’t possibly sit on my hands right now and do nothing.”


That’s a lot of money. Like, a lot of money.”

“It is a good chunk of cash. But I don’t want you to have to stay here for a moment longer than necessary.
This is no place for someone like you.”

I wanted to get out of here more than anything. But there was also something holding me back from accepting his offer. Pride maybe? Independence? What would accepting a gift like this mean in the long run?

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just a
‘thank you’ would suffice. But it’s going to take some time to get that money. I may not be able to get you out until tomorrow.”

I thought about it a moment. My chances of tracking down the real person responsible for this crime were greater if I wasn’t in jail.
I had to swallow some pride, let people help—it wasn’t something I was good at doing.

I nodded. “I’ll repay you, Garrett.”

“I’m not worried about it.”

And I knew he wasn’t. $20,000 to a millionaire wasn’t the same as $20,000 to a person who was scraping by month to month.
But his offer was still generous and somehow made me feel burdened at the same time.

However,
I was in no position to be picky right now.

“Thank you. This means a lot to me.”

“What can I say? You mean a lot to me.”

My cheeks warmed. “Thanks, Garrett. You mean a lot to me also.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
33

Spending the night in jail was one of the worst experiences of my life.

A blessing? Why would Mrs. Baker ever think this could be a blessing? I had no idea. Because I just felt like I’d been wrongly accused. I felt helpless.

All I could do was lie on my uncomfortable bed
with bars that dug into my back, thinking through all my possible suspects. Their faces circled around and around in my mind, but when the spinning stopped, no one person remained at the forefront.

Arie.
She’d stolen someone’s play, had her sights on being the lead, and had done everything she could to drum up press attention for herself. She often wandered away from the stage during practice, which would give her means and opportunity.

Paulette
’s image came to mind next. But why would she frame me? It made no sense. Of course, she’d hired me, knowing I’d be at the old school, knowing I’d be sneaking around. The evidence had been found in her car, which she had the key to. But I still had no clue as to what her motive might be.

Then there was Roberto. I could see
how he might want to ruin Paulette’s life. But mine? Why? Unless he’d originally wanted to hurt Paulette but then decided that was a mistake.

Donabell’s husband? I really couldn’t see him as the guilty party here. He seemed like the type who’d sit back and watch the property fail and then gloat.

I stared at the water stain on the ceiling and tried to keep my thoughts focused. When I got out of here, I needed to talk to Marjorie, Scarlet’s roommate again, I decided. She’d overheard a fight with Scarlet and an unknown person. I was certain the answers were somewhere in those details … if Marjorie could remember them.

My mind also bounced to Chad. Again, I’d left him shorthanded. It wasn’t entirely my doing or my choice
at the moment, but still—it had happened.

Was he right? Should we just go our separate ways? Was working together a bad idea?

I sighed and stared at the ceiling.

Finally, my thoughts came to Riley and Garrett. I couldn’t believe Riley had visited me. I knew not to read too much into it. The gesture had been one of friendship. Besides, there was still that woman from the pictures. Who was she?

I’d been on the verge of telling Garrett about my decision concerning Africa. But now everything felt like it had been turned upside down.

I closed my eyes.
The jail I was in right now was creating a different kind of prison in my mind. It was a mental cell where I couldn’t escape my thoughts.

That seemed like the
cruelest punishment of all.

 

***

 

The next morning, I was released on bail and given a strict set of rules that included checking in at appointed times, not going within twenty feet of the Cultural Arts Center again, and not engaging in any criminal activities.

Garrett met me with a bag of clothes
. I could have worn the ones I was arrested in, but a clean outfit sounded nice. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Garrett had bought me a T-shirt that said, “Survivor,” some expensive-looking jeans, and flip-flops made from a yoga mat. Yes, I loved flip-flops whatever the season. He already knew me well because this was my uniform, summer or winter. I changed and escaped from the confines of the jail like a bird flying from a cage.

It had never felt so good to be free.

“I wish I could stay with you, but I’ve got a board meeting coming up that I can’t miss,” Garrett said as we climbed into his car.

“Please don’t apologize. You’ve already gone above and beyond. Just take me to my apartment. That will be fine.”

“I hate to leave you in a time like this.” He sounded so formal, yet endearing all the same.

“Don’t worry. I have a plan for my day.”

“Why do I have a feeling this plan somehow involves your arrest?” He glanced my way, his eyebrows raised.

“Maybe it’s better if you don’t know. Then you’ll be telling the truth if the police ask you questions.”

“Very well then. Just do me a favor and stay safe.”

I nodded. “I will.”

My cell phone rang, and I saw Paulette’s number pop up. I asked Garrett to excuse me for a minute. I hadn’t talked to Paulette since I’d been arrested and charged. I wasn’t sure how this conversation would go.

“Hey, Paulette. I’ve been meaning to call you.”

“How could you?” Her soft voice cracked.

Tension pulled across my chest.
She’d obviously heard about what happened. I knew she would eventually. “What?”

“You’re the only person who’
s never used me. And now you took advantage of me, too. I thought I could trust you, Gabby.”

“Certainly you don’t believe that I’m behind any of the vandalisms, Paulette. You know I’d never do that to you. I’m being set up.”

“I gave you a key.”

“Who else did you give keys to? Several other people, Paulette.”

“Just Mrs. Baker. And Peter. And Bennie.”

“Bennie has a key?” Hadn’t she told me she didn’t
want
a key? Had Paulette given her one anyway?

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does!” People didn’t lie for no reason.

“Paulette—”

“Please don’t say anything else.” Ice-cold silence stretched for a moment. “This just goes to prove that I have no one in my life to depend on.”

She hung up.

I leaned back in the seat, feeling numb. I’d let down the one person who had me on a pedestal—not that I wanted to be there. But I did hate letting down people who looked up to me. It was an awful feeling that made my spirit plummet.

Garrett squeezed my knee. “You okay?”

I nodded, even though I felt anything but okay. “I’ll be fine.”

“Relationships are messy sometimes, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

We pulled up to my apartment
building. I started to get out, but he pulled me back. “We’re going to get through this, Gabby.”

His words warmed me.
He’d said “we,” which meant he was sticking with me, even through the thick and thin. “That means a lot, Garrett. Thank you.”

He leaned forward and planted a slow kiss on my lips, o
ne that made my heart beat double time. “By the way, I thought you might want to see this.”

He
reached into the back seat and handed me a magazine.
Entertainment Now
.

I stared at Angelina Jolie on the cover.
“Is there an article in here pertaining to the play?”

“A
ll about Arie and her supposed comeback.” His eyes sparkled.

“You’re the best. Thank you!” I kissed him one more time.

“I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Sounds great.”

I slammed the door and ran to my apartment building, my mind still racing. I didn’t have much time to find the real culprit. I had to get busy.

As soon as I stepped foot into the building, Chad and Sierra’s door flew open.
My heart sunk when Chad stepped out. I’d really been hoping for Sierra.

I braced myself for his reaction. Accusation?
Disappointment? Righteous indignation?

Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets and offered a compassionate smile.
“I heard what happened. How are you?”

I swallowed hard. “Feeling a little desperate right now.”

He bobbed his head up and down. “Look, don’t worry about the jobs. I’ll handle them. Besides, I talked Braxton into coming back to work for a few days, at least.”

Until I returned, I thought to myself. I
kept silent, though. “I really appreciate that, Chad.”

“You just take care of yourself.”

I wanted to believe his words were sincere, but I just wasn’t sure. Part of me couldn’t help but think he was faulting me for the same things he’d criticized me for in our earlier conversation.

But right now, I just didn’t have time to think about it.

“Oh, and one more thing, Gabby.”

I turned on my heel and waited for him to continue.

“I thought you should know that Riley’s up in his apartment.”

My pulse quickened, though I will
ed it to slow down. A tremble of anticipation rushed through me. “Thanks, Chad.”

I hurried upstairs, determined to keep my thoughts in check.

At the top landing, I stared at Riley’s door. No, I wouldn’t go there. I had to keep myself guarded, to protect my heart. That meant I needed to give myself from boundaries.

I rushed into my apartment
and froze. Everything was out of place. My books were off the shelf, pictures were turned over, couch cushions were on the floor.

I
’d deal with all of this later. Right now, I hopped in the shower, got dressed, made a few phone calls, and started downstairs. I had a long and urgent to-do list.

When I was out the front door, I stopped in my tracks.

My car.

It was still at Oceanside Middle, I realized.
Garrett was supposed to send his assistant to pick it up and deliver it. With everything that happened, he must have forgotten. I couldn’t blame him.

I threw my head back, realizing this would put a serious crimp in my plans.

The door opened behind me. I twirled around and spotted Riley there. My throat went dry.

“Gabby. I was hoping to catch you.
I heard your door open and you were outside before I could even call for you.”

I wiped my hands on my jeans
, noticing I was trembling for some reason. “You’re still here.”

“I told you I was going to help, right?”

My heart warmed. “You did.”

“Where you headed?”

“Nowhere. I forgot my car is not here at the moment.”

“How about if I drive you?” He tossed his keys in the air.

“Really?”

He smiled. “Yeah, really. Come on. It will be just like old times.”

 

***

 

“Thanks for invit
ing me over,” I told Mrs. Baker as she answered the door.

She looked different wearing a sweatshirt and a T-shirt, with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She somehow seemed more human and approachable, less like the woman I’d put on a pedestal.

“I’m glad you could come, Gabby and …” Her gaze traveled beyond me, and confusion spread across her face.

“This is Riley,” I explained.
It felt surreal to say the words. Like old times. Like something I’d dreamed of happening but that I never thought actually would.

On the entire ride here, I’d updated him on the case. I told him what I
’d learned and who my suspects were—everything.

Everything about the play, at least.

I told him nothing about Garrett or Africa or possibly giving up crime scene cleaning.

Mrs. Baker
nodded his way. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

We stepped inside and out of the cold.

“I know you can’t set foot on the property of the Cultural Arts Center, so I thought we cou
ld talk here,” Mrs. Baker started.

“This has all been like a nightmare.”

“I can only imagine. Of course, more than talking about the play, I just wanted to talk to you. Amos is at work and Larissa is working on her homework.”

“No school?”
I started to slip off my coat when Riley grasped the shoulders and helped tug it off. When our hands touched, a spark raced through me.

I couldn’t let myself go
to that emotional place. I couldn’t get hurt again. But my body seemed to have a mind of its own.

“I homeschool.”
She pointed to the dining room table. “Please, have a seat.”

We lowered ourselves into the wooden chairs there.

“I thought you should know, before we talk too much about other things, that we met to discuss the future of the
The Specter
met last night.”

“And?” I questioned.

“Arie has agreed to share the credit for the play with Harlot Jenkins. She never conceded to plagiarism, but she thinks she may have inadvertently heard the idea and taken it as her own.”


She said that?”

Mrs. Baker nodded. “
She did. Who knows what the truth is?”

“I bet someone paid Harlot off.”

“Why would you say that?” Riley asked, looking all lawyer-like with those perceptive eyes and the rigid set of his shoulders.

I frowned.
“Paulette apparently paid off Arie to let us keep the play in the first place.”

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