Teased to Death (Misty Newman 1) (18 page)

"Yeah, yes. How can you even worry about that right now? A girl's life is at stake." I looked at Merlin. "We need to find her, in case there's a chance she's still alive."

The priest's eyes blinked once, a heaviness to his eyelids. "I don't know who…"

"You've
got
to know. Don't you guys have some inkling of who she might be? This town isn't exactly huge in size. In fact, it's not even a city. This girl can't have been coming from
that
far away. Someone had to know her." I took a step closer to Merlin. "Who was she?"

"There's one thing that might help," he started.

"Well? We don't have time to waste."

"Follow me then." Merlin took a step further to the back of the room, but a crash from the other direction stalled him where he stood.

"Let's go," I said. "Hurry."

Merlin raised a finger and pointed behind me.

I wheeled around, my throat constricting with shock and fear.

"We found the other half of the note." Jax spoke first, his large figure taking up most of the doorway. His face was stony, and I had the feeling I knew what he had come to tell me.

"With love from
who
?" I whispered. My heart sank to the very pit of my stomach below my navel, and chills took hold of my veins.

"With love, from
Misty
." Jax dropped his gaze. "If that blood in there is from Mrs. Jenkins, things do
not
look great for you, Misty."

I sank to my knees. "No. No, no, no. It wasn't—I never wrote a note! How could it have been me?"

I swiveled on my knees, feeling the urge to vomit once more. But nothing came up this time, as my stomach was completely, brutally empty.

"I've got to arrest you, Misty," Jax said without apology. "For the murder of Anthony Jenkins."

"No. No, you've got to believe me. Why would I have tried so hard to get into her house if I'd left the note? With you right there. That makes no sense. Come on, Jax."

"Misty—I've got a probable murder weapon stabbing a note with your name on it. Not to mention, you were the one who suggested it was Mrs. Jenkins doing the killing and not the other way around. It didn't dawn on me that Mrs. Jenkins might be the victim of a scorned lover, not right away at least, thanks to your
suggestion
."

"Jax, check the blood, check for fingerprints. Even if it looks bad, it wasn't me. I was framed," I said, using lingo I'd heard on TV. I wasn't a cop. I wasn't a killer. I was just trying to run a small business.

Jax looked resigned. "I'm going to get everything checked out, and if it wasn't you, then you can be sure we'll get to the bottom of it, and we'll release you. But fingerprints, blood work, it takes some time. I'm sorry. You're under arrest."

Jax snapped handcuffs around me.

I didn't even resist. I felt so weak. But another thought was puzzling me just as much. If Mrs. Jenkins wasn't the killer—where was she?

Things could've been worse. Though, they weren't particularly pretty. I was in a private cell, thankfully, locked away in the sleepy town's sleepy jail. A cop I'd gone to high school with sat out front munching on some Doritos, and I was so hungry I was tempted to lick the orange dust from his fingertips.

"Can I get a coffee?" I asked. "Froot Loops? Anything, please."

The cop ignored me. I wasn't sure what his current strategy was. The police had initially fed me and chatted freely, probing for information and asking me for a confession. I didn't give them one. I eventually realized that I would go nowhere, including a jail cell, until I lawyered up or gave them a confession. I chose to ask for a lawyer.

My call had been to Donna, asking for her help once again. I really needed to buy her a nice large steak once this was all over. Or maybe a cake. Or a lot of wine so we could be happy and forget everything that had happened. Money might not buy happiness, but it bought bubbly, which gave me quite a bit of happiness. That was, if I ever got out of this cell.

"Is anyone coming to help me?" I was beginning to sound whiney, but I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't afford a fancy-pants lawyer, I didn't know anyone who could, and I was
still
locked up for a crime I had nothing to do with.

"What did Donna say?" My high school acquaintance chewed on his lip.

"She reamed Jax out when she heard he arrested me, but he didn't change his mind."

"Then I ain't changing my mind," he said. "Jax is the boss around here."

"But you have the power to help me," I begged.

"And I'm gonna use that power to enjoy my Doritos, here." He flicked the paper up and read some more.

I lay back on my small little cot, kneading my hands against my forehead.

Eventually, his eyes flicked over to me. "Say, whatever happened to you after high school? You kinda up and left. We all thought you was a nerd and went to get real smart at college."

"Yeah, yeah. Didn't work, did it?" I snapped.

"Hey, Misty. I'm just trying to chat with you. I get paid to sit here, and I can make things miserable or actually quite pleasant."

I sighed. "Sorry. It's just…my nerves are shot. I'm extremely tired. I've barely had enough to eat, and I'm framed for a crime I didn't commit."

"Sucks, man. Dorito?" he meandered over and held the bag out for me.

"Thanks." I took a few, crunching them with what was probably a sour expression on my face. Not because of the Doritos. Those were, in fact, quite tasty.

"Tell me your story. Maybe I'll take sympathy on you."

"Will you really?"

"Nah, I need the job. Got three kids at home, and they're gonna have to go to college someday, I suppose. But talking to you is better'n reading the paper. Plus, you'll be in the paper tomorrow anyway. I might as well get a jump start on the news. The missus will love a jump on the gossip. Er—news."

I rolled my eyes. But misery loves company, and I started the whole story. The whole sob story about moving to LA after college to obtain a fancy degree with lots of letters I could marry to my name. But in doing so, how I'd ended up with a broken heart and a surprising gig I loved, dancing at the burlesque clubs around the city. I finished the story in one giant circle, ending with how I'd arrived back here, splat in the middle of Little Lake's six-celled jail.

"Why did you stop dancing?" he asked. I really needed to learn his name. But by this point, it had turned into one of those moments where I'd let conversation go on for far too long before asking him to tell me his name again. The cop had both feet on the desk, a hand behind his head, and the other tipping the bag of Doritos straight into his mouth so he could drink the crumbs.

"Hello,
monsieur
." Donna strolled into the room looking very put together and dashing in tight jeans and a low-scooped top, an edgy little leather jacket completing the look.

The cop kicked his feet off the desk. "What can I do for you? Here to see Jax?"

"Yes, actually. Is he in?" Donna purred.

"I think he might've headed for home, as a matter of fact…" The cop glanced behind him. Jax's office wasn't far away, and I could almost read my high school buddy's face as he debated how embarrassing it would be if he called Jax on the phone versus walked the two doors down to get him.

"Would you mind checking? I would, but I don't want to barge in on him," Donna said.

"Not at all. I'll check now. Can I grab you coffee on the way?"

"Sure, I'd love some decaf. Actually, let's be honest. I'd
love
me some regular coffee, but I'm breastfeeding and all, the babies…" Donna said with a roll of her eye.

I stared at Donna. There was no way Donna was breastfeeding her youngest. But she must have a reason for leading the front desk attendant on to believe it.
What was she up to?

I watched silently, playing along, hoping I'd catch on to whatever Donna was aiming to achieve. As she leaned toward my unnamed high school buddy and slipped her jacket off, real slowly down one arm, her tactic suddenly dawned on me. The cop froze with a Dorito halfway to his mouth, and I didn't think the drool was for the chip.

I nearly rolled my eyes, but then it hit me. The guy's name was Dwight. He'd
always
had a crush on Donna. He'd asked her to prom every year in school and been rejected every time. Talk about unrequited love.

"Let me take your jacket for you," Dwight insisted.

"Thanks, but that's all right." Donna's eyes flicked toward me as she kept a firm hold of her jacket.

"No, really. Let me hang it up," Dwight insisted.

"I'll only be a second, honest," Donna said.

"No, no." Dwight more forcefully pulled the jacket from her, simultaneously putting his hand on her shoulder. "You asked for a cup o' Joe, and I'm gonna bring you the best cup you've had this year. You sit down and sip it, Donna. I insist. You work yourself too hard."

Donna's smile was frozen on her face as he pulled the jacket away.

"Everything all right?" Dwight asked.

"Yep." Donna blushed. "Well, as a matter of fact, I have a
teensy
favor to ask of you."

"Name it." Dwight was back leaning on the desk lickety-split.

"I need to…tinkle, and if you don't mind, I'd
really
like to use the private one." She grinned. "But I'm not sure I can wait to grab Jax's key—do you think I could use yours?"

Dwight pulled out a jingling set of keys from his pocket. He looked incredibly torn at the moment—I could almost read his mind. Now was his chance to do a favor for the girl he'd had his eye on for years. Of course, now they were both happily married, but there was something about young love that was hard to let go. On the other hand, the private bathroom keys were strapped to the rest of his keys, and handing that stash over surely went against protocol.

Dwight's eyes shifted down the hallway, glancing toward Jax's office. "Can you wait one second?"

"Oh, no. No, I can't, but that's okay. I'll just use the public one. The same one
she
uses." Donna tilted her chin at me, her voice insinuating I was the scum of the earth. "It's my special time. I can't
exactly
wait. It's a little…out of my control."

Dwight shoved the keys out to Donna and dashed down the hall like his pants were disappearing in flames.

"Your special time?" I glanced at Donna. "Beautiful. Really, poetic."

She rushed over, jangling the keys, trying the first one in the lock. "Yeah, yeah. Old Dwight. What a nerd."

But from her downcast eyes and pink-tinged cheek, she was completely transparent.

I grinned. "You
like
Dwight having a crush on you."

"You try having five kids. It does a number on your self-esteem." She turned her hand, and the lock clicked open.

"You are gorgeous," I said. "You look like you're twenty-two. And act like it too. Thanks for busting me out, girlfriend."

"Anytime." Her eyes gleamed. "Crap. My phone is in that jacket though, the one with Dwight."

"We don't have time." The coffeepot dripped in the background, and Dwight whistled extra loudly, probably trying to block out sounds of any girl stuff that might be happening.

"But what if the kids call? Alec has been finicky, and I think he might be coming down with something…" Donna said.

"Nathan has a phone," I said. "He's a good dad. And I'll bring you straight home. Let's
go
."

Donna cast one glance down the hall. "He'll kill me."

"Dwight or Nathan?" I asked, glancing after her.

Donna just glared at me.

"Don't worry. Jax will probably kill me first." I grabbed her hand and yanked her out of her reverie as I heard the smack of a fridge door sealing shut and the clatter of a coffee cup being set on a plate.

Together we rushed out and hopped into her car, Donna in the driver's seat and me in the passenger seat.

She wheeled out of the parking lot, and we were two blocks away before Dwight rushed out looking wildly up and down the street. I squinted, barely able to make out his figure as Donna drove us out of sight.

"I don't think he saw us," I said as Donna whipped down a narrow alley. She knew this town better than the back of her hand.

"He won't chase us," Donna said. "He'll go tell Nathan. He'll probably wet his pants doing so, but…ah well. Poor guy."

"I still think you have a soft spot for him. Just a teensy bit," I said. "Innocent crush?"

"Shut up." Donna stared straight ahead. "Tell me, how were you gonna bring me straight home anyway? Did you steal a car? Don't tell me that's why I got a call from you in prison."

"I didn't steal a car. But I would've offered to drive
yours
. Anyway, the situation's complicated."

"Please, fill me in."

I gave Donna the nitty-gritty details. All the while, she made hairpin turns, backtracked, and rattled down side streets as if driving a getaway car was her nighttime gig.

When I finished, she let out a low whistle. "Things don't look great for you, do they?"

I shook my head, glancing at her. "You still think I didn't do it, right?"

"Of course not. I've got kids in this town. I wouldn't have broken a killer out of jail. In fact, I consider busting you out my good deed of the day," she said with a light smile.

"How so?"

"Because you need to figure out who put you in this mess so we can get the real killer off the streets. Like I said, I got kids in this town. I want it to be a safe place."

I nodded. "I really appreciate this. I was thinking in jail—"

"Don't tell me you suddenly found your savior or something—you were in there five minutes."

"Actually, I was thinking I should buy you a nice steak and some bubbly after this to celebrate."

"Make it two bottles," Donna said. "I'm not gonna be getting any action from Nathan anytime soon after pulling this stunt, so I might need something else to help me sleep."

I grinned, and it felt good. I hadn't had a lot to smile about the past few days. "Drive yourself home. If I can ask one last favor, would you mind dropping me off at the comic book store?"

"I've got until three this afternoon, when I have to head to school for the science fair. Nathan Jr.'s volcano is going to explode at three fifteen on the dot, and if I don't take a video, he'll
flip
."

"Thanks. Just drop me, and head home. I don't want you involved in this anymore."

Donna parked a few blocks away in a dirty little alley I'd never been in before. Which was impressive, considering I thought I knew every inch of this tiny town.

"Wow, I didn't know this was here," I said, climbing out of the car. We were blocks away from the comic store. It was a brilliant park job. Nobody would ever find it. Unless… "Does Nathan know about this place?"

Donna smiled smugly. "I made out with Angelo D'Amico back here when I was thirteen. First time a boy touched my boob."

I remembered—he was the teenage bad boy who'd broken most girls' hearts at Little Lake high.

Donna sighed wistfully in remembrance. "I could never bring Nathan here…he'd be too jealous."

I wrinkled my nose, not sure if Nathan would be jealous of a boob graze in seventh grade, but then again, Angelo D'Amico had been good lookin'. "Where did Angelo end up?"

"Driving a FedEx truck. Ugly dude these days, but back then…" She shook her head. "Smokin'."

We crept up to the back of the comic book shop. It was supposedly closed today, but there was no difference in signage from any other day.

"What's our plan?" Donna hissed.

"I have a theory," I said. "Someone knows information in here, but I don't know who. I figure if I can find a way to
convince
them to tell me…"