Talk of the Town (11 page)

There were the stressed-out women and their unfortunate children dragged out for shopping. Kelly had made a pact with herself that when she had children, if she couldn’t afford a sitter for a few hours of shopping, then she couldn’t afford shopping. Of course, what did she know? She was twenty-eight and single.

Then there were the hours on your feet with no break in sight, the smile pasted on your face. It was one reason she’d finally gone into wholesale. Even though working retail had been a big step up from her tattoo parlor job she’d gotten in her early days.

It hadn’t been so bad there. Her buddy the ex–army sergeant had kept a good eye on his seventeen-year-old apprentice. She’d slept in the
back room and only had minimal problems with the customers, thanks to Sergeant Douglas.

Years later he told her when she’d come in his door with the
HELP WANTED
sign in her hand he figured if he didn’t take her in, she’d get in real trouble.

Remembering that made Kelly feel lucky. Things could have been worse in her life. She’d get out of this mess with Raymond. She was innocent. If she could just hang tight, they’d find the guys who killed Raymond, surely.

She found herself in Sam’s office so fast she forgot to work out how she was going to tell him.

“Hello, Miss Applebee, have a seat, won’t you? I’ll just pop in and tell Sam you’re here.” Faith had blue jays on her sweatshirt today.

“He’s not with a client, is he?” Kelly asked. She hadn’t even thought of that.

“Heavens, no. He said something about heading out toward the Miller place for a while, but he’s still here.”

Sam came out to get Kelly. She looked incredible. Black dress. Tight black dress. Her eyes shining. She pulled herself out of the chair and tugged her dress down a bit.

“I called, really I did. Myrtle said you were on your way over,” Sam said. “Come on back, Kelly.”

“Your calling was not an issue, Sam.”

“I know, but women like it when you call.” Boy, she sounded odd today. “I had a great time at the rodeo last night.”

“Me too. First time I’d ever seen a real live bronco rider,” Kelly said.

“You look great. You and Myrtle have some fun today?”

She blushed and said nothing.

Sam looked hard into her cat-like green eyes. She was damn nervous about something. He touched her arm. She brushed at her bangs with the other hand. Slowly he drew her into him. His arms wrapped around her softness. She leaned against his chest and he could hear her heart pounding.

“Long walk?” he said softly.

“Not too.”

He lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her. She was delicious, fresh-air-cold lips. Soft red lips. He ran his fingers through her newly highlighted hair. Her jet-black hair now had reddish highlights. Still crazy. Silky to the touch. He felt suddenly overwhelmed by her. Lost in her. He kissed her again and let one hand run down her back. The sweater she wore was hot from the sun—and her warmth.

“Sam.” She said his name in a moan as he slid
his hands all the way down her backside and pulled her toward him. Her arms were around his neck. Her body was burning against his. He felt the throb of his need for her.

“Sam, not here.”

“Not here. Yes. Not here,” he repeated. He eased himself from her. “This is getting hard.”

“Sure is.” She started laughing.

He held her away from him by the shoulders. “I was about to drive out toward Fish Trap Lake again. I have a client out there. Want to come?”

“You make house calls?”

“Yup. I take chickens for pay, too.”

“I’ll come, but can we stop at Myrtle’s and pick up my other shoes?”

“Sure. Let’s get some fresh air. Clear our heads. Take a cold shower.”

Sam went to his closet door and swapped his suit coat for a brown leather jacket.

“Clever lawyer. Your doors hold many surprises.”

“You, too, I imagine.” He put his arm around her and got them both out of the office, into public. Maybe he could keep his hands off her better in public.

For Kelly, everywhere Sam had touched her was burning. Her lips were still on fire. She smiled at Faith as they walked by. When the elevator doors closed behind them she heard laugh
ter tittering through the doors. Sounded like everyone knew what was going on.

She looked up at Sam. He had red lipstick smeared on his lips. “Sam. Lipstick.”

“Shoot. I can’t get away with anything.” He pulled out one of those white embroidered handkerchiefs and wiped at his mouth.

She smiled. He was sweet. Like clover honey. Like blackberry pie. She just couldn’t mess with a sweet thing like Sam. She’d like to tell him the reason she wasn’t married anymore, that Raymond was dead; the words echoed in her head and made her hurt inside. But what if he didn’t believe her about Raymond? What if Sam believed she killed him?

Kelly just could not bear to see the doubt that would flash through him the minute she told him. She had to have just a little more time with him. It would mean the end of it with them, for sure, and she wasn’t ready for the end.

She grasped for conversation that would keep her from thinking about it anymore. “You said your parents were out of town, Sam. Where?”

“He and my mom are in Europe right now on a museum tour. Which reminds me, there’s this benefit for the Seattle Art Museum this Saturday. I’ve been left holding the ticket bag. Would you like to go?”

“Swanky, eh?”

“Swanky as they come in the Northwest. It’s a masquerade thing. Just masks. Myrtle has some kind of feather collection I’m sure you can dig into. I suppose it’s short notice for getting a dress.”

“Don’t sweat it, Prince Charming, Cinderella has her ways.” Kelly reached up and kissed Sam on the cheek just as the elevator opened. A couple and their boy just stared at them. The woman grinned broadly. They excused themselves past them and got in. Elevators.

The October sun heated her up until Kelly stripped off her sweater and tied it around her waist. Her sexy black dress lost much of its effect when teamed with the white Keds she’d made Sam stop at Myrtle’s for. But as Myrtle always said, a girl’s got to have the right shoes.

Kelly stood on a hill overlooking a red farmhouse and its surrounding property. Sam was in the distance standing in his quiet way. The two people with him were more animated. The woman waved her arms in the air a few times. The man paced a circle around something. Sam kept his hands in the pockets of his brown leather jacket and nodded a lot.

Kelly let the breeze cool her bare arms. The leaves on the old maples looked rusted. A tall birch tree had vivid yellow leaves still on it even
though a shower of them came down with every gust of wind.

The property was behind the lake they’d necked at on their tandem bike trip. Driving here she realized how far they’d ridden. It must be five miles out of town, so she had biked ten miles! Man, she’d have to stay in shape for these dates.

She turned in a circle like Julie Andrews in
The Sound of Music.
The hills were alive right now with the sound of two grown people bickering down the slope from her.

Behind her she could see Fish Trap Lake shimmering in the sun. The willows beside it looked more golden than she remembered from even a week ago. Above the lake she caught sight of an old house, quite large. Its white paint was peeling away. The upper window was broken out. It must be abandoned.

Sam came up behind her and put his arms around her.

“All done.”

“Did you solve their problem?”

“Yup.”

“Wanna go skinny-dipping?”

“Don’t ask. I’d like to roll you right down this hill and do you in the grass. Hopefully your dress would remove itself on the way down.”

“Why, Henry. You devil.” She wound herself around him.

“Who told you my first name?” He kissed her neck.

“Ginny Palmer.” She pulled his shirt out of his pants and ran her hands up his broad, muscular back. His skin was warm as flannel. “What’s that house over there?” She used her head to point because her hands were busy. She’d really like to see him naked. Everywhere she touched she felt an amazingly hard body.

“The old Shipley place. Haunted.”

Sam gasped as her hands came around to his chest. She liked having that effect on him.

“Who owns it?”

“County. Should be torn down.”

“Tsk. That’s a shame. It’s a beautiful location.” She reached up and kissed him harder. She pressed her body into his until she felt him want her
bad
.

“Kelly.”

“Yes?”

“Not here.”

Kelly looked over Sam’s shoulder and saw the two bickering people pointing at them and laughing. At least they were getting along now.

“Okay, let’s walk over to the Shipley place and say hello to the ghosts,” Kelly said.

The late-afternoon sun gave everything a burnished golden glow. Kelly couldn’t believe how
huge the Shipley house was when they got right in front of it.

“Wow, this was something special. What happened?”

“The last of the family, three sisters, lived here all their lives. Spinsters. My mom knew them well. They were very active in town life and you see their names all over old newspapers and public buildings. The last one died about 1968. No living relatives, so the house reverted to the county. There was talk of fixing it up, but it just didn’t happen.”

Kelly rubbed at a small windowpane on the front porch and peered inside. Wow. She could see a big fancy stairway. Good woodwork. The front door was boarded shut. She really wanted inside.

“There’s someone on the county board that comes out and checks on it once a month. I know there’s a back door. Careful,” Sam took her arm as they stepped over broken boards in the porch.

“I want in. Can you get a key?”

“Sure. I’ll ask Tom Blackwell.”

Kelly walked backward next to Sam, looking at the treasure she’d found. There was something about the place that pulled at her. A huge old magnolia tree stood to one side. Sprays of roses that someone had planted long ago were
giving their last blooms to the fall warmth. They draped over a broken-down trellis leaning against one side of the house.

If she could just clean up the past, she could make a new home here. The less of her old life that intruded into the new one, the better. Maybe she could get this whole Raymond thing straightened out before she had to tell him. Surely some progress would be made on the case soon. She turned around and grabbed Sam’s hand as they walked. She gave him her best smile. He was something.

“Wanna have dinner at Cora’s?” she asked.

“Can’t. I teach swimming Mondays and Wednesdays at the high school pool.” Sam opened the truck door for her.

“Fine for you. Oh, well, I’ve got mice I have to train to whip me up a dress by Saturday.”

“I’ll drop you at your wicked hairdresser’s house.”

“She is wicked, isn’t she? I love her for it.”

“She’s been real good to you. I like that in a crazy old lady.” Sam started up the truck, and they drove toward town with the sun setting in front of them in bright October orange streaks.

Lynnette Stivers booted up the computer and tapped her red nails on the mouse. Her job do
ing data entry at Tom Blackwell’s office was really coming in handy now.

She entered the sheriff’s office password and accessed the West Coast Sheriff’s Watch main website. After flipping through a few hoops, she got to the site for profiles.

A series of drawings and photos came up and Lynnette entered her qualifying data:

Files came up, and she began flicking through them one by one.

The old school clock on the sheriff’s office wall ticked away the seconds. There must have been hundreds of faces, but Lynnette was real fast—this was her forté, snooping.

Fifteen minutes later she hit pay dirt. “I knew it. I knew I’d seen that face before.” Lynnette hit the print button on the file with pure glee and waited for the page to emerge.

Tom Blackwell came through the swinging glass door just as the printer spat out the last of it. Lynnette hit two buttons on the computer and
turned to the wall briefly to stuff the paper in her bag.

“Hi, Tom, honey, did you take that ratty little Skaggs boy back home? I doubt his mama cares what he’s been stealing. She probably sent him for it. Twelve years old and he’s just like his old man.”

“Yep, I took him home, and brought a bag of groceries, too. Her husband’s run off, and she can’t watch after Kenny and the two little ones at the same time. I stopped at the church and asked the reverend to give her a hand. She will probably pitch a fit, but it will help her through. He needs a person to help out in the day-care center, and she can bring the twins in for free.”

Lynnette took the time Tom was rambling on to gather herself. She grabbed up her bag, sauntered over to him, and gave him a little peck on the cheek at arm’s length.

“Tom, you are too good to these people. A night in jail might straighten that boy out.”

“You can’t put a twelve-year-old boy in jail, Lynnette.”

“I suppose not. I’m going home to rustle you up some supper, just like I promised. Don’t be too late, now.” Lynnette’s bleached blonde ponytail wagged as she walked out the door.

She jumped in the Trans Am and turned the
keys to roll down the window. October and it was still hot.

Pulling the paper out of her bag, she smoothed it out and read the notice.

Got most of it right, Lynnette thought. She must have changed her name and dyed her hair black.

So a lying, murdering bitch with roots was about to snare her Sam. In a pig’s eye, sweetheart. Over my dead body, Kelly Atwood Bianchi Applebee.