Euphoria Lane (19 page)

“
Owned
one, not too far from Benson.” He pulled the tab off his beer and a hiss of air escaped from the can. He turned to face Roxie. “Had to sell on account of the arthritis. Too many things I can’t do anymore, like mend fences.”

“Couldn’t you hire help?” Meg asked.

“Already had help.” He took a sip of his beer and set it aside. “Trouble is finding someone willing to do the work of two men for the price of one. That’s what it would have taken to save the place.”

And then he moved to Euphoria and met Harry. The man had not been born under a lucky sign.

Andi could relate. Trouble seemed to follow her as well. Luke had made a point of reminding her of that fact more than once.

Roxie downed the second bourbon. The cowboy watched with concern.

Andi scanned the room. His furnishings were exactly what she would have expected of a retired rancher. A Navajo blanket had been thrown over the back of a worn leather sofa. A framed copy of a John Wayne photograph hung overhead. Oil paintings of horses and cowboys lined the other walls. Steer horns rested on top of the television. The only item missing in this tribute to the old frontier was a saddle in the corner. She turned back to the horns and wondered if they were sharp enough to gore flesh. If she were the killer, she’d save those for Harry.

She blinked, trying to erase the image from her mind. The way her luck was running, she’d go to the dumpster tomorrow and find Harry’s naked, branded derriere sticking out of the trash, sprouting those particular horns.

“You just happened to be smoking near Harry’s back porch tonight, Mr. Decker?” Andi asked.

“Not at first. Nothing wrong with my ears. I headed that way after hearing all the racket you ladies made.”

The three women glanced at one another. Meg appeared worried. Roxie appeared tipsy.

“We need to work on the noise factor,” Meg announced.

“How about we come up with a plan of attack that doesn’t involve vandalism?” Andi asked, unsure how her question would be taken.

Meg cringed. “She’s right,” she told Roxie before scooping up a handful of cashews. “How long do you think we need to hide in here?”

Roxie set her empty glass down on the table. “Twenty minutes ought to do it.” She turned her nose up at Andi. “Is twenty minutes okay with you, princess?”

Andi sighed. “I don’t mean to judge.”

“Sure you do,” Roxie snapped, returning her own judgment with a glare.

Shivers slithered down Andi’s spine.
Were those the eyes of a killer? Or were those the eyes of woman who knew no boundaries and had too much drink?

“I just don’t want to be arrested,” Andi said softly. “Meg and I would lose our jobs. Besides, trashing each other’s porches isn’t going to solve anything. We need one good move that will get rid of him forever. A move that doesn’t involve killing him.”

“I vote for killing him,” Roxie’s sarcastic tone filled the otherwise-silent room. “How about another drink, Mr. Decker?”

Andi wanted to protest giving her another drink, but then she noticed he filled the glass with soda before mixing in a touch of liquor. The older woman wouldn’t notice after having downed two glasses already.

Meg leaned toward Andi. “I’m always telling Roxie not to mix booze with her pills. She never listens.”

Roxie blew the cowboy a kiss when he handed her the glass.

They weren’t going anywhere soon. No time like the present to do a bit of investigating.

“I hear you didn’t like Bernice,” Andi said to the cowboy.

“Not one iota,” he shot back. “That woman should have had snakes coming out of her head to warn a fella.”

“Medusa,” Andi mumbled. “What made you dislike her so much?”

“The same thing that makes you hate Harry.”

She nodded her understanding. “Who do you think murdered Bernice?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Unless of course the killer wants another go at Harry. I’ll teach him how to finish the job.”

“Really?” She didn’t know what to make of this man.

“In my opinion, those board members should all be strung up like horse thieves. If I had any strength left in my hands, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

Andi studied the expression of hate on the man’s face.

Did he have enough strength to hit Bernice over the head with a brick? Hard enough to kill her?

“Bernice was bad enough,” the cowboy said, as if reading her mind. “Harry’s a nightmare. I can’t count how many fines I’ve paid over the years—and he sent me four more this week. The man’s a demon!” He gestured to an empty space on the wall. “I had to sell an original portrait of John Wayne to pay for a stack of fines that blasted board sent me. I refused to pay at first, but they kept sending me late fees on top of the fines.”

“You sold The Duke!” Roxie gasped. “Why on earth would you do a fool thing like that?”

“I didn’t have a choice. The board could have taken away my home when my debt reached twelve hundred dollars. I owed them three thousand when I sold the painting.”

“And now?” Andi asked.

“They can fine me all they want. I overheard Bernice and Harry talking a few years back. They said they’d put a lien on my property if I ever refused to pay, but they wouldn’t take the property until after I die. They didn’t want the bad press.”

Roxie nodded. “HOA steals another home from the elderly. News at five.”

“I don’t care if the board takes this place after I die. They can have it.”

That cut his motive in half. Why kill when he had nothing to lose?

Meg gripped the glass of water with one hand while she munched on nuts and bounced her crossed leg up and down. Either her leg was keeping time with her thoughts, or she was still high from the adrenaline and fear from tonight’s adventure.

“How much do you owe now, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“At least two thousand. Those late fees add up quick. I send them a check for a hundred or two every once in a while to keep them from changing their mind about taking the place.”

“Two thousand more than what you already paid?” Andi couldn’t believe it.

Well, okay, I can believe it. Harry walked the property daily.

The cowboy eyed Andi above the rim of his beer can. “From what I hear, they’ve just started sticking it to you, little lady. It will get worse. The man’s obsessed. My poker buddy comes over twice a week and his old car leaks oil. Harry waits for him to back up and then snaps a picture before I even have a chance to clean it up.”

“But you got him back,” Roxie added, a huge grin revealing her pleasure. “You punched him in the old snout.”

“I did. And I’m proud of it.” He toasted himself with a beer lifted high. “The judge found reason to drop the charges. He lives in a community with a homeowners’ association, too. Said he could relate to my situation. Too bad he doesn’t live here. Maybe then someone would stop that varmint.”

“Why don’t you move?” Andi asked.

“And give that cretin the satisfaction? Not on your life. And don’t you go chickening out either. We are all in this fight together now. Thanks to you and that anti-board of yours.”

She swallowed hard. “Please don’t pin your hopes on the anti-board. I don’t know how this is going to end.”

His scowl deepened. “I do. In another death.”

Luke stood with his hands planted at his sides, taking in the view at Mr. Decker’s condo. Meg shoveled cashews into her mouth, her crossed leg kicking with nervous energy. Roxie saluted him with her coffee cup. An empty liquor glass nestled against a bourbon bottle on the coffee table in front of her. She appeared to be a fully awake, caffeine-buzzed drunk. Andi avoided eye contact with any of them. She scratched her head while turning the pages of a magazine.

“I hear you ladies need an escort home.” He held the door open and motioned for them to exit. His mood hadn’t improved since Mr. Decker had called him at one in the morning to explain the situation. Meg had refused to leave, afraid Harry knew where they were hiding and might be holed up outside with a baseball bat—or worse. The cowboy had a bad case of arthritis and couldn’t take anyone on in physical combat. “I checked the grounds. No one is lurking outside,” Luke stated.

“You sure?” Meg rubbed her arms, her leg still bouncing. If she didn’t calm down, she might explode.

“I promise the coast is clear.” Luke sent Andi a look of disappointment. He couldn’t believe she had helped trash Harry’s condo with enough worms to entice a great white shark. She had to know he would retaliate.

Andi stood and ambled to the door, still avoiding eye contact. Once she stood next to him, she whispered. “I had nothing to do with this.”

Roxie handed Mr. Decker the coffee cup. “Thanks for the hospitality. The next time you and your friend play poker, give me a call. I’ll bring my own bottle.”

“And your own cards?” He lifted a brow as if he suspected the woman cheated at poker.

Roxie cackled. “I bring my own dice.”

Meg stood and swiped at the salt that had fallen from the nuts and landed on her black sweatpants. “Thanks again. We appreciate your help.”

“Anytime.” Mr. Decker’s gaze followed Meg out the door.

Although the sun wouldn’t rise for a few more hours, decorative lampposts and the full moon provided enough light to guide their way. The cool night air ruffled the leaves in the trees and brushed against their cheeks. Luke caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He spotted a dark figure running around a building and heading toward the pond.

“One of the other neighbors is out late,” Meg whispered.

“It could be the murderer.” Andi wandered away from the group. “Let’s see who it is.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Luke’s agitation revealed itself in his tone. “It could be the murderer, so you’re going to run after him?” He hurried to catch up with her. “Like I said before—trouble.”

Andi waved him off.

Nearing the back of the next building, Roxie swayed. “I see the light.”

Meg grabbed the older woman’s arm. “Stay away from the light.”

“I’m drunk, not dying.” Roxie pointed at the building. “Helen’s lights are on. I
know
we turned them off after we finished packing.”

Luke studied the windows. The light inside flickered and grew. “There’s a fire in her living room! Call 911.”

He ran over the grass, then scrambled over the half wall surrounding Helen’s porch. The sliding-glass door, the one he had locked before, slid open easily.

Photo albums Andi had boxed up for Helen now lay torn and scattered across the carpet. Like newspaper in a small campfire, page after page ignited, blackened, and curled. He spotted the fire detector hanging against the wall. The wires had been cut and the battery removed.

“Quick! Find a fire extinguisher!” Andi ran into the kitchen and began pulling open cupboards.

Meg rushed to another room.

After checking under the sink and next to the refrigerator, Luke rushed out to the garage. He found the red canister propped up in a corner, grabbed it, and ran back inside. When he returned to the living room, he found Meg jumping up and down on a bathroom rug she’d thrown over the flames. She held a container of baby powder in one hand and a box of baking soda in the other. With each bounce, white powder puffed into the air and then drifted down to settle on the rug.

He stood, dumbfounded. “What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t remember which powder smothers fire.” Meg glanced down and then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I got most of it out.”

Andi stomped on an ember near the sofa.

Roxie dug a cigarette out of her bra. She dropped to her knees beside Meg and crawled up to the ash with the stick wedged between her lips. Finding a smoking photo, the tipsy woman nudged the end of the cigarette toward the corner.

Once again, Luke stared in disbelief. He had thought there was nothing else this woman could do that would surprise him, but he was wrong. “Stand back.”

Luke pulled the pin from the fire extinguisher, aimed, and shot. The foam burst out of the hose and Roxie dropped her cigarette while trying to escape the white blast.

“
Now
it’s out,” he proclaimed.

“We need to open the windows,” Meg said, coughing on the chemicals filling the air.

Roxie sat staring at what remained of the fire and her soggy cigarette while the rest of them opened the windows. Andi pulled the chain on the ceiling fan. Once the air began circulating the smoke cleared, but the odor hovered.

“That was close.” Luke stood near the open sliding-glass door where the air didn’t smell like burned pictures. “A few minutes later and this place would have been blazing.”

Roxie narrowed her eyes. “You killed my cigarette!”

Luke couldn’t help but smile until he spotted the writing on the room’s opposite wall. He tried to swallow, but his mouth felt as dry as cotton.

Andi pointed to the blood-colored letters. “Look.”

Meg read, “You should have died, witch!”

“Hey!” Roxie scowled. “I’m a bit peeved over my cigarette. That doesn’t make me a witch.”

Meg shook her head. “Not you. I’m reading the wall.”

Roxie squinted, trying to read the writing. “I hope that’s not blood.”

Luke crossed the room to examine the writing. It appeared thicker than blood. He summoned the courage to run his finger along the edge. It felt creamy to the touch. Reassured, he sighed. “It’s lipstick.”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that color.” Roxie dug in her bra, presumably for another cigarette.

“Who do you think did this? And why?” Meg looked to him for answers he didn’t have. “Helen rarely went to the board meetings.”

Luke picked up the pictures that hadn’t been fully consumed by the fire. They were all of Helen and the reverend. He looked like a happy man with his arm draped around her.

Maybe the reverend is guilty. Did he lose his mind after Helen left him? Did he discover his mother was responsible for the breakup?

Luke needed to convince Andi to stay out of the investigation. If Reverend Nichols murdered his mother and set fire to the condo, he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of Andi.

Andi pressed her lips into a thin line while her gaze traveled from Roxie to Meg. “You know I’m working part-time for a detective agency, right?”