Corpse in the Crystal Ball (16 page)

“Oh, don’t give me that. You know I love spending time with Granny. I just don’t appreciate you using the poor unsuspecting woman as your spy.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying, young lady, or your tone of voice,” Dad huffed.

“Well, I am sorry for that, but the fact remains I’m dead serious. Don’t show up unless you’re here to pick Granny up when her basement is finished, and not a second before. Talk to you later. And don’t worry. I’ll say a prayer for you both.”

Someone sure needed to.

“Oh, there you are, dear.” Granny entered the kitchen, tying her rain cap firmly in place and then smoothing down the front of her Sunday-best dress. A prim peach that was flattering on her petite frame.

Meanwhile, I had donned another flowy skirt, sweater
tights, and a long-sleeved T-shirt. I felt out of place, but I didn’t own Sunday-best clothes. Hopefully the big guy upstairs would simply be glad I had shown up.

“Who was on the phone?” Granny asked.

“Mom and Dad.”

“That’s nice. It’s so endearing the way they check up on you.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Someday you’ll appreciate it when they’re gone.” She patted my hand.

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Probably,” I admitted. “But for right now, they are driving me nuts.”

“Kind of like you drive them nuts?” she asked gently.

“Definitely.” I sighed.

“Okay, then, let’s take your mind off your worries and go to church. Get a little peace for that soul of yours.”

I followed her out to my car, thinking peace wasn’t what I was after. Answers were. And since most of the town was Catholic, I figured church was as good a place as any to start.

If we made it there in one piece.

“Granny, watch out for that mailbox!” I white-knuckled the dash.

“Oh, dear, I didn’t even see that.” She jerked my bug off the shoulder, barely missing the mailbox, and then riding the center yellow line.

“Granny, not too far that way. Here comes a …eeek!” I slapped my hands over my eyes.

“A what, dear?”

I opened my eyes to see Granny staring at me, clueless. I turned around to watch Phil the garbage collector climb out of his enormous forest green trash truck that was now
stuck in the ditch. I waved my hand at him …and he waved his fist at me.

I slapped my forehead and turned around. “How could you not see that trash truck?”

“What trash truck? Today’s Sunday. There’s no trash on Sunday. Are you sure you don’t need glasses?”

“Phil runs an independent garbage collection operation. Maybe he was just taking his truck in for servicing. Who knows? What I do know is that my eyesight is fine, but I think it’s time we got yours checked.”

“Good idea. I’ll never pass my road test if I can’t see straight.”

She’d never pass her road test, period, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her.

“Here we are, right on time,” she said cheerily, then proceeded to run over the curb and park half on the sidewalk. “Oh my. Should I fix that?”

“It’s fine.”

“Okeydokey. Let’s hurry so we get a good seat. I don’t want to miss a word.”

I climbed out of the car and stopped in my tracks as I watched a jean-clad, sport-coat-wearing Mitch escort Selena, who wore a pretty silk dress, into church. I wanted answers all right, but the questions I had for a certain hard-nosed, cynical detective wouldn’t get answered anytime soon. Even so, I hurried after them.

I didn’t want to miss a word, either.

I entered Sacred Heart Church just as Father Moody started to preach. Early morning sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, sending a kaleidoscope of colors throughout the building. The choir stood ready in the back, and the organist’s fingers hovered over the keys. There were even a few guitar players seated on stools behind music stands.

Scanning the packed polished cherrywood pews, I finally found Granny. Of course she was sitting right behind Mitch and Selena and right beside Captain Walker. If she were any closer, she’d be sitting on his lap. Judging by the look on his face, he didn’t seem to mind one bit.

I slid into the pew right beside her and directly behind Mitch as well. He glanced over his shoulder, did a double take, then arched one thick black brow. I stiffened my spine and arched my slim blond brow right back at him. Who was
he to judge me? He didn’t go to church any more than I did. The only reason he was here was to keep Selena company.

The corner of his lip twitched as he tried to hold back a smirk, and then he turned around and faced the front. Selena leaned her head against his shoulder and he patted her hand.

Grrr
.

The thoughts I was thinking right about now were anything but holy. I felt someone slide into the pew, bumping a leg into mine. I stole a quick glance beside me, and my eyes widened.

Kevin smiled kindly and whispered, “Hi.” His honey brown hair was styled to perfection, and his hazel eyes twinkled as he gazed at me. He wore gleaming black dress shoes, perfectly tailored olive green designer dress pants, and a buttercup yellow silk shirt that fit him to perfection. He’d opted to go without the tie and left the top two buttons undone, exposing a hint of tanned flesh and a gold chain.

“Hi yourself,” I whispered in return, and couldn’t help smiling back. He really was a handsome man and just so darn nice. And he smelled amazing. Like expensive cologne amazing. If only Detective Butthead would stop making me forget my own name when I was around him, I could so easily fall for this guy. “How’s your hand?”

“Healing, but it itches like crazy.”

“I’ll bet. Are you back to work yet?”

“Yes. It’s not easy, though. This cast gets in the way. It’s slowing me up quite a bit, and the powers that be don’t like that.”

“They’re lucky you’re working at all.”

“You know what they say about the mail. Neither rain
nor snow nor casts will stand in our way.” He winked. “Someone has to take care of business, right?”

“Did they ever find that stray dog?”

“No. He was headed out of town after he bit me. He’s probably long gone by now.”

“I hope so. It’s scary thinking about that animal roaming the streets of Divinity.”

His eyes lowered as he stared into mine with sincerity. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

My heart actually fluttered a bit, and I started to forget where we were.

“You ever going to be free to let me make dinner up to you?” he asked softly.

“I think that can be arranged.” I bit my bottom lip and looked at him through my lashes, then added, “Call me.” Jo was onto something with the whole flirting thing.

But then the moment was broken by a
shhh
. Detective Butthead looked over his shoulder, studied Kevin, frowned at me, then faced the front, looking much stiffer than he had a moment ago. What was that supposed to mean? What had bothered him: that I was too loud or that I had agreed to go to dinner with another man?

Just as I thought. I wasn’t about to get any answers where the frustrating detective was concerned, and I was pretty much through with caring at all.

I sat silent for the remainder of the sermon, received a quick handshake from Mitch and a kiss on the cheek from Kevin during the greet-your-neighbor part, and finally mass was over.

I got up, said my good-byes, and scooted out as quickly as I could, telling Granny I would wait for her in the car.
She was talking to Captain Walker, so that could take a while.

As I left the church, I ran into a short, pudgy woman with a pinched nose and big ears, which were accentuated even more by the tight gray bun she wore.

“You’re that fortune-teller, who’s helping the police with that poor woman’s murder, aren’t you?” she asked.

I stopped walking. “Why yes, and you are?”

“Petunia.” She held out her hand. “Petunia Millbrook.”

We shook. “How can I help you, Miss Millbrook?”

“I want to report a crime.” She nodded once, sharply.

“Why me and not the police?”

“I complain to them all the time, but they never take me seriously.”

“Huh, well, that doesn’t seem right.” Great, now I was going to get stuck with the paranoid loonies who thought I had some kind of pull with the police. I pasted on a smile. “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you, and I’ll see if there’s anything I can do.”

“Gretta Frey.”

I perked up at that. Maybe this conversation would be beneficial after all. “What about Ms. Frey?”

“Well, she’s a phony is what she is.”

“A phony how?”

“She claims she looks the way she does from willpower and eating right and exercising. She even gave me a lecture once on how to get fit. Blah blah blah. I tuned her out, I did.”

“And?”

“I walk the neighborhood dogs every night. At least I’m exercising, which is more than she can say. I repeat. She’s a full-blooded phony.”

“I see.” My heart slumped. So much for Petunia helping Gretta.

“No, you don’t see at all. She doesn’t have willpower any more than the rest of us. Why, I’ve seen her stuff her face with the biggest no-nos of the food groups more times than I can count. I don’t know how she stays so thin, but I do know it doesn’t have squat to do with willpower. Claiming that it does is a crime, I tell you, a crime.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Millbrook, but I really don’t know what I can—” A sudden thought hit me square in the gut. “Did you say you walk the neighborhood dogs
every
night?”

“I sure do.” She stood a little straighter and beamed.

“What time do you walk the dogs?”

“From six to seven o’clock. A whole hour, which is more than Ms. Phony Baloney can say.”

“And you see Ms. Frey eating at that time every night?”

“Not eating.” Petunia leaned into me to make her point. “Stuffing her face. And yes, she
stuffs
every night at six
P.M.
sharp. I’m not spying, mind you. It’s simply hard to miss since she has no curtains on her giant monstrosity of a dining room window that faces the road for all to look in at her. Bleck, she makes my stomach turn.”

“Do you remember if you were out walking and saw Ms. Frey on the night of Isabel Gonzales’s murder?”

“I sure was, why?”

“Well, I might not be able to help you, Miss Millbrook, but you just helped me a ton.”

“How so?” She looked excited, but she wouldn’t be once she heard what I had to say.

“You just gave Gretta Frey an alibi.”

Sunday afternoon Detective Fuller picked me up in his cruiser. “Ready?” he asked.

“Absolutely. Did you get my message?”

“Yeah, you were working alone again.”

“I was not! I was at church with my granny. I can’t help it if people come up to me, offering information. The important thing is that Gretta is no longer a suspect.”

“Don’t act so excited. We’re running out of suspects other than Detective Stone.”

My smile dimmed. I hadn’t thought of that. “So what do we do now?”

“We question Abigail Brook.”

“How? She’s gone.”

“Not anymore. That’s the only reason I made an exception and agreed to meet you on a Sunday.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I received a tip that she came home late last night.”

My smile bloomed as bright as a full moon on a clear night. “That’s fabulous. She has to be the murderer. If you could have seen …” My voice trailed off as I remembered no one knew Mitch and I had been in her trailer.

“Seen what?” Fuller narrowed his eyes at me.

“Um, the way her neighbor talked about how obsessed Abigail was with Detective Stone. Like stalkerish obsessed. And the whole town saw the way she reacted when Isabel staked her claim on Mitch. I’m just saying it’s like a
Fatal Attraction
remake. She has guilty written all over her.”

“We’ll see. You know what they say about innocent until—”

“Proven oh so naughty. Yeah, yeah, I know. So what are we waiting for, partner? Let’s go prove to one Miss Abigail Brook that she’s oh so busted.”

“Well, all righty then.” He started the car and pulled out of my driveway.

Ten minutes later we came to a stop outside of Abigail Brook’s trailer once more, only this time her car was in the driveway, and we were completely legal.

I followed the detective to her door and stood beside him as he knocked. “Open up, Miss Brook, it’s the police. We’d like to have a word with you.”

He’d barely finished speaking when the door opened as though she’d been waiting for us. My jaw unhinged. She was still pear-shaped, but there was nothing frumpy about her anymore. She was dressed in the latest fashion, with her limp brown hair now fluffy, wavy, and highlighted with cute, sassy bangs in the front to frame her perfectly made-up face. The makeover she’d obviously gotten had done wonders for her.

She smiled, looking relaxed and calm and pretty, I hated to admit. “Detective, it’s so nice to see you.” She looked at me and, if I didn’t know better, I could have sworn I saw a flash of …something …that made me uneasy. “Miss Meadows.” She nodded once, dismissed me, then faced the detective once more. “How can I help you?”

“May we come in?” he asked.

“By all means.” She stepped aside and we entered.

Again, my jaw grew slack. Her trailer was immaculate. Nothing at all like what Mitch and I had seen on the night of the B&E.