Corpse in the Crystal Ball (19 page)

“Good. Game on.”

“Game on, indeed.”

“I’m off to bed, dear,” Granny said from the bottom of the stairs. She stood there in her floral nightcap and dressing gown with a glass of water in her hand, her teeth still firmly in place. She never let anyone see her without her teeth. “Don’t stay up too late,” she added.

“I won’t.” I yawned and stretched, then adjusted my Looney
Tunes pajama bottoms, tank top, and fuzzy slippers. “I just want to be prepared for tomorrow. Sleep tight.”

“You too.” She smiled, then looked around her in confusion. “Morty-poo, where are you? It’s time for night-night.”

I pressed my lips together. Morty didn’t do night-nights, but I knew he would humor her until she drifted off to sleep. Then he’d disappear as he always did to do whatever it was immortal cats did.

I heard his claws on the hardwood floor, reluctantly making his way to the stairs, long before I saw him round the corner. And then I just couldn’t help it. A chuckle slipped out from between my lips, and I slapped a hand over my mouth. His salmon bow tie was gone, replaced by his own masculine midnight blue dressing gown and cap.

Granny had turned him into a mini version of my grandfather.

“Why, there’s my handsome fellow. Come, come now. Off to bed we go. We have a big day tomorrow. We have lots of cleaning to do. It will be Monday, after all. We mustn’t veer from the schedule.” She nodded once. “Just wait until you see the new bow tie I made for you. It’s going to look grand once it’s pressed to perfection.” She clapped her hands and led the way up the stairs.

Morty shot me a pathetic look but followed her nonetheless. He must have sensed the same as I did that Granny was lonely without my grandfather, and like it or not, Morty had become her new companion. I hadn’t seen her this happy in years. I just didn’t know how much longer he would allow her to
play
with him before he played back.

Poor Morty. I’d have to make it up to him somehow. But
right now, I had bigger problems to worry about. Like finding the person who killed Isabel and clearing Mitch’s name.

I looked over my notes once more. Isabel had called Selena, but Ted and Roz had both called Isabel several times, leading up to and including the day she died. Ted had come into town the day before Isabel died. I had no clue what connection he had to Isabel, other than his phone calls to her.

He must have known her, but in what capacity? And why was he in town at the same time that she was? Divinity wasn’t that big and didn’t offer much to a big-city roller, so I highly doubted it was a coincidence and he was a simple tourist. I decided to question him first.

Then there was Roz Sanderson. I’d found an interesting tidbit while researching her. She just so happened to have been Isabel’s cell mate for the past year. Isabel got out before Roz did, but Roz had just been released. So why call Isabel and show up in the same town at the same time?

Why was she here and what did she want? Did she know about the money from their time in jail together? I would question her after Ted, because frankly, I knew Ted was still here for sure. Roz, however, seemed to be a bit elusive. I’d made a few phone calls and asked around, but no one had seen the mysterious Roz. Ted, however, everyone had heard of. Seems he was quite the ladies’ man.

And then there was Selena. But Selena had arrived in Divinity the morning after Isabel’s death, genuinely upset and distraught. Mitch trusted her completely. My mind said my suspicious thoughts were crazy, but I just couldn’t ignore the knot in my stomach that said something wasn’t right.

There had been our conversation in Mitch’s apartment
when she’d expressed how different she and her sister were. And then the day in the park when she’d sounded almost bitter. She’d always been there for her sister—apparently the
only
one who’d been there for her—and yet her sister had ignored her when it had mattered most.

Isabel must have known how destitute Selena was, yet she hadn’t returned the favor by helping her out one bit. In fact, she’d turned her back on her without thinking twice. That had to hurt. But did it hurt enough for Selena to kill her sister and take the money for herself? I was saving Selena for last, pretty much because I knew Mitch would be furious with me for even considering the notion.

Once again, he was too close to this case to think rationally.

I closed my notes, rubbed my aching temples, and suddenly remembered tomorrow was trash day. Granny had gathered all the trash and left it by the back door. As disruptive as my life had become with Granny Gert and all her grannyisms wreaking havoc on my routine, there were still some definite perks to having her here. Things were less lonely, Morty had a playmate, and I finally had some help with cooking and cleaning and laundry.

I kicked off my fuzzy slippers, threw on Granny’s cardigan sweater, and shoved my feet into a pair of Duck boots. Gathering up the trash bags, I hauled them outside, shivering in the chilly night air. Dropping the bags at the end of my driveway, I crossed my arms and looked up, taking a moment to enjoy the amazing sky.

Without the hazy humidity of summer, the sky was cloudless and brilliant. Crystal clear inky blackness that resembled what I saw when gazing into my crystal ball,
Moonbeam, or Morty’s eyes. Stars twinkled as bright as the constellations on the ceiling of my sanctuary.

Living on a dead-end road could be eerie at times, but on nights like tonight, it felt like a blessing. Like I was one with nature and the universe while the rest of the world slept. No honking horns, no sirens wailing, none of the craziness that went hand in hand with living in a city.

I took a deep breath and thought,
Things are going to be okay.

Heading back to the house, I carried out the recycle bins and placed those alongside the trash bags. I was halfway back to my house once more when I heard a noise. Granted, Vicky’s position right next to the woods caused all sorts of noises to go on around me. Noises I’d gotten used to and didn’t even really hear anymore. Wind, rain, animals, and so forth. But this noise wasn’t one of those. This had sounded like footsteps.

Human footsteps.

A skitter of alarm shot up my spine, and I whipped around. “Who’s out there?”

No response.

After a full minute of searching my surroundings, I turned around and jogged the rest of the way to my back door. Just before entering, I took one last look about the yard and could have sworn I saw a shadow dart across my driveway. And then I felt it. Eyes boring into me, wild and savage to be sure, but definitely human. I wasn’t crazy. Even more terrifying …

I wasn’t alone!

The next morning, after a sleepless night, I got up and finally caved in and called Fuller. He was not happy with me, but he came over early and checked around outside—and didn’t find anything. He chalked it up to my crazy imagination, but I decided my stalker had to have been Abigail Brook. I’d had a crazy dream about her, and I put a lot of stock in my dreams. It meant something. She’d pretty much made it clear she thought I was a threat in the Mitch department now. She might have an alibi where Isabel’s murder was concerned, but I still felt she was highly unstable. I’d have to watch my back or I’d be the next one to wind up in the woods.

Hours later Fuller and I scoured the town but kept missing out on meeting up with Ted Baxter. Our shift ended and Fuller went home for dinner with the missus. Meanwhile, I’d gotten a tip that Ted had asked directions to the Song Bird.

The karaoke bar was often frequented by outsiders and was reputed to be a great pickup joint. My informant had also revealed that after I left Nikko’s the night before, Ted had proceeded to flirt with all the locals. I’d made a couple calls this morning, and word around town was that Ted had hit on other local women in the grocery store and hair salon as well. The rumors had to be true. He was a definite ladies’ man. Lucky for me, it just so happened I was a lady.

How hard could picking up a guy be?

It was another cool night, so I opted for a pair of jeans with the only pair of high heels I owned. I kept wobbling in my shoes and tugging at my thighs to attempt to pull the painted-on fabric down. I hadn’t worn these jeans in ages, and let’s just say I may have added a few pounds since then. I didn’t remember them sitting so low on my hips, either.

Darn Granny and her cookies!

I pulled down my tight-fitting, low-cut candy-apple red stretchy shirt that matched my heels. But it still ended just above the top of my pants, exposing a good inch of my belly skin as well as showing off my push-up-bra-induced cleavage.

I checked my reflection in the mirror of the bathroom at the Song Bird, gathering the courage to become a seductress. I had a feeling that was the only way I’d get Mr. Baxter to pay attention to me. I added some red lipstick and fluffed my strawberry blond spiky hair. The strawberry part being temporary highlights that would eventually wash out.

My eyes twinkled, my lips were shiny, and my earrings dangled enticingly. I didn’t even recognize myself. Jo had helped me pick out my outfit. She’d said Ted was no ladies’ man. He was a bimbos’ man. She’d heard enough around
town and had seen him in action at her own bar. All the ladies he tried to talk to ignored him. No one but a bimbo would be crazy enough to buy into his obvious lines. To which I replied that a bimbo was what I must become. Now there was something I never thought I’d hear myself say. Jo had simply laughed and then saluted me in a toast, chanting, “All in the name of justice.”

She couldn’t join me because she had to run the evening crowd at Smokey Jo’s. But she assured me that if this didn’t grab Ted’s attention, nothing would. I just wished I was better at the whole temptress scene. Oh well, it was now or never, and if I fingered someone else for this crime, one day Detective Grumpy Pants would thank me for it.

Or I’d commit a crime of my own, by God.

I straightened my back and squared my shoulders, holding my head high as I marched out of the bathroom like I owned the place. Jo had said confidence was the key. I hoped she was right, because my insides had turned to gobbledygook, which is pretty much how they turned when I’d tried to cook Granny’s peach cobbler or basically anything.

Betty Crocker I was not.

The place with its ultramodern decor was busier than I had anticipated for a Monday night. As usual the clientele consisted of people I’d never seen, who were probably just passing through the area. I spotted Ted Baxter right away, surrounded by a group of women. I started toward him, attempting a swagger like I’d seen Jo perfect, only mine came out more like a poorly executed stutter step.

I wobbled a bit, grabbed a chair to regain my balance, and then did a double take at the stage. Cole West was once again singing his heart out, only this time the song was
upbeat. He looked different. Almost happy. He caught my eye and shot me a wink, then shook his head with a questioning look as his gaze traveled the length of me.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I shrugged, then turned around and continued on my path with a determined gait. Until I noticed one member of Ted’s crowd who hadn’t been standing there before.

Detective Mitch Stone.

I darted behind a big, bushy fake plant and peered at him through the leaves. What on earth was he doing here? He never came to the Song Bird. It dawned on me that Selena must have told him about our conversation in the park. Knowing him, he had done his homework and had come up with the same new suspects that I had.

Grrr
.

He wasn’t supposed to be working this case, and he knew it. He was way too close to things. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to screw up everything.

Someone came up from behind me and bumped into me. “Eeek!” I fell headfirst into the plant. With my head down, my face a mere inch from the dirt, and my arms pinned to my sides, my butt was left up in the air with my heels pedaling in place as I scrambled to gain some kind of traction to pull myself out. It was no use. I was bottoms-up helpless.

A large pair of hands latched onto both sides of my hips, easily pulling me out of the tree, and then set me on my feet. I whirled around, ready to give Mitch a good talking to about interfering with my case. But my nose bumped into a pair of enormous pecs with more cleavage than I ever dreamed of having, even with my push-up bra. Except these were rock
hard and totally masculine. As I looked up, the chain tattoo surrounding the massive neck did
not
belong to Mitch.

“Sasquatch?” I squeaked.

He arched a brow, his buzz cut and five o’clock shadow looking more intimidating than ever.

“I mean, Cole, how nice to see you again. Thanks for the help.”

“What are you wearing?” He swiped a meaty paw through the air. “Forget that. What are you up to this time?”

I looked left and right, then crooked my finger at him, motioning for him to come closer. “I’m working,” I whispered.

“I can see that.”

“I’m not working in
that
way.” I placed my hands on my hips and tapped the toe of my high heel.

He grunted. “Could have fooled me.”