Killer Shots Murder Mysteries - Books 1-3 Page 20

  I moved in for the kill. “Surely working at this dive can’t pay the bills.”

  “This dive belongs to my parents, I’ll have you know.” Ally smacked the magazine down on the counter.

  Oops. There I went with foot-in-mouth disease again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it.” She walked around the counter. “Did Gwen tell you I was quitting? How could she have found out?”

  “So, it’s true.”

  “Yep. After this next weekend, it’s adios amiga. I’m going to work for Prissy’s Party Place. She said that if I work hard, she’d make me a partner. If all goes well, it won’t be long until we’re the go-to company for all your Cascada party needs.”

  I started to unzip my jacket but didn’t want the store’s stink to seep into my sweater. “Sounds like a great opportunity, except for one minor obstacle.” I held up my pointer finger.

  “What’s that?”

  “Gwen.”

  “Oh, we’re not afraid of her. She’s overpriced and difficult to work with.”

  “But, it wouldn’t hurt if her reputation were soured by...I don’t know...a tragic occurrence at one of her events, perhaps?”

  Ally’s eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m sure whoever locked Mr. Squishy in the freezer didn’t mean for him to die. It would have been just as damaging to Gwen’s business if he were found alive. Then maybe he could have sued or at least caused concern about her professionalism.”

  “Are you suggesting I locked that clown in the freezer to make Gwen look bad?” I watched her fists ball. “I can’t believe you!” She looked as though her head would spin around.

  I’m not sure what I had expected her to say. Something along the lines of a confession would have been nice. If she were indeed the culprit and I had just outed her, this deserted store wasn’t the ideal place to do it. I needed to think quick. “No! Of course not. I could never think such a thing.” I took a step backward toward the door.

  Ally walked back around the counter and leaned down for something underneath it.

  Was that where she kept a loaded gun to protect herself from highway robbers? I swallowed hard. My heart was beating out of my chest. I glanced toward the exit.

  When she stood up, she was holding a cup of soda. “Wow,” she said, brushing back the bangs that had fallen into her face. “For a second there I thought you were accusing me of murder.”

  “Nooo. Don’t be ridiculous.” I felt the knot in my stomach loosen up a bit. “I was just wondering if you saw anything suspicious at the party or if you knew anyone who might have a grudge against Gwen.”

  “Oh, I see. You’re wanting me to help you catch the bad guy.”

  “Guy or girl.” Stupid, Wendy. Why are you pressing your luck?

  “You think it might have been a woman?”

  “Oh, I have no idea.” I casually picked up a set of salt and pepper shakers shaped like moccasins.

  She crooked her finger for me to come closer. Looking around, she leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial manner even though we were alone. “You know, there could have been someone at the party who had it in for Gwen. I’m pretty sure she was having an affair with a married man.”

  “Really?” I don’t know why I was so surprised. Gwen had that money-hungry, man-eater look like all those women on daytime soaps. Big hair. Big earrings. Bigger chest.

  Ally seemed pleased to have shocked me with her gossip. “Yep. And maybe the man’s wife was at the party. This is a small town, you know. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if someone found out Gwen was the other woman and tried to sabotage her event.”

  Just then, the door jingled and a young couple with two young kids came in.

  Saved by the bell. “Thanks for the information. I’ll let you know if I find anything out.”

  She winked back. “And don’t say anything about my new job. I wouldn’t want it to get out before next week.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me.” I hurried out to the parking lot. Part of me wanted to believe her while another part wondered if she was making the whole thing up. When I was just about to unlock my car door, I realized I had forgotten to ask Ally about the mystery flask. I wasn’t sure if I should go back in. Although she had seemed innocent enough, I didn’t always trust my instincts.

  Deciding to get out of Dodge while the gettin’ was good, I glanced at the car parked next to mine. It was probably Ally’s since the only other vehicle there was the tourists’ RV. Something shiny caught my eye. Lying on the floorboard of the car was a silver flask. I leaned in for a closer look. Sure enough, it was decorated with a red rhinestone heart.

  Chapter 12

  As I drove back into town, I went over the possibilities in my head. Either Walmart had a sale on the red heart flask, or there was something fishy going on. Could Ally have had two of those flasks and brought one to the party? But then how did it end up in the freezer with Mr. Squishy? She could have been the person behind the freezer death since she was probably in the kitchen more than anyone else.

  Maybe Grady was on to something when he said, “Follow the flask.” Okay, he didn’t really say that, but that’s what he meant.

  My cell phone rang as I exited the highway. It was Leslie Harper asking me to come by her house. I told her the pictures still weren’t ready, but she didn’t care. Her voice was strained, so I knew something was up. I agreed and headed to the upper canyon.

  Luckily, the sun had kept the roads from icing over. Too many people I knew had been in accidents driving this road.

  My ears popped as I turned onto the road leading up to the Harpers’ place. I turned into the drive and nearly wet myself. In front of me lay a sprawling two-story ranch house covered in unique stucco and stone with a tile roof and balconies on most every window. It was a million dollar house with a two million dollar view.

  I know I should be grateful to have inherited my grandparents’ house, and I know that there are lots of people in the world who can barely put a roof over their heads, but that didn’t keep the green-eyed monster from grabbing me by the throat. Why would a person who lived in a house like this care about a few leftover gallons of ice cream? Why would she have a drinking problem?

  I got out of my Jeep wondering if I should look for a servants’ entrance. Sure enough, when I rang the bell, a girl dressed in a maid’s uniform promptly opened the door. Unlike the French maids in movies or girls in costumes for Halloween, this one wasn’t very shapely and had plain features. I assumed Leslie didn’t want any competition parading around the house in front of her husband.

  The girl showed me into a great room the size of a small airport. It had obviously been professionally decorated with a perfect mix of rich leather, stone, and glass. There were no magazines on the table, no remote control, no kid’s toys. No signs that anyone actually lived in that room.

  The clip-clop of heels on the Spanish tile floor announced Leslie’s entrance. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I really needed to talk to you.” She motioned for me to take a seat on the plush sofa.

  Leslie sat across from me in an oversized chair that would have swallowed Santa Claus. “When we were leaving that diner this morning, you mentioned something about a flask. Can you explain yourself?”

  The question took me by surprise. “Oh, there was a flask found in the freezer with Mr. Squ—, um, Mr. Ward, the clown. Sheriff Grady is trying to track down who it might have belonged to. He thinks that person may have seen something that would shed light on what happened.”

  “I see. And does he have any leads?” She wrung an ivory handkerchief with her hands.

  Who even uses handkerchiefs anymore? Oh yeah...rich people. “Not that I know of.”

  Leslie stood up and paced across the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.

  I hoped it was faux fur, but I had a feeling it was real.

  She suddenly turned, walked over to the wet bar, and pulled open a d
rawer. “Did the flask happen to look something like this?” She held up a silver and rhinestone flask identical to the one I’d just seen in Ally’s car.

  My jaw dropped. Why would Leslie Harper have a flask from Walmart? Unless it wasn’t from Walmart.

  “You don’t have to say anything.” She dropped it back in the drawer and slamming it shut. “I can tell by your face that it is.”

  She paced a few more times before stopping next to the fireplace. “I suppose you’re wondering what’s going on.”

  Duh. I nodded.

  “So was I when I saw that same kind of flask at the party. It was in some woman’s purse in the coatroom. When I smelled that cheap perfume on the coat, I knew exactly what was going on.” She strangled the handkerchief. “All those late-night appointments and weekend trips. I’m such a fool. I should never have married a man who would cheat on his wife.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve caught him cheating before?”

  “No. He cheated with me on his first wife—while she was sick, no less. At least we had the decency to wait until she had died to get married.” She glanced over at me. “Oh, don’t look so smug. I come from money. I needed to marry money. Someone like you wouldn’t understand. I know how that sounds, but there it is.”

  I didn’t want to interrupt her soliloquy, hoping she would name the “other woman.”

  “I suppose you think I should leave him, and you’d be right. But there’s one problem. Bridgette.”

  “His daughter?”

  “Yes. I know what I said about her at the party, but I didn’t mean it. I’ve actually grown quite attached to her. The idea of pulling her away from another home after all she’s been through just breaks my heart.”

  Hearing Leslie profess affection for her stepdaughter came as more of a shock than seeing the flask. “What are you going to do?”

  “I haven’t decided. At first I thought maybe I’d ignore it and let him have his little fling. Maybe he just needed to get it out of his system. But now, with this flask business, I’m not so sure.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “You see, Preston gave me that flask as a gift for our anniversary. He said he had it special ordered. Now that I know he gave another woman one too, I wonder if I should tell the sheriff.”

  My guess was that he had a stash of them and gave one to anybody wearing a skirt. I was dying to know the identity of this other woman, and not just for my gossip-loving curiosity. This may be a clue that could help Myra’s case. “Whose purse was it?”

  Leslie plopped back down onto the chair. “I don’t know.”

  She seemed sincere. After all, why would she have told me this much but then not tell me the woman’s name? “How do you suppose it ended up in the freezer with the clown?”

  “I don’t know that either. I took it out of the purse in the cloakroom and put it in mine. But someone must have taken it, unless, that is, I left it in the restroom. I accidently knocked over my purse and everything flew out. I was so upset that I just don’t remember.” She looked up at me as tears rolled down her cheeks. “What if the sheriff thinks I’m the killer?”

  There went her mascara again. She really should switch to waterproof. “Leslie, it will be all right. We can talk to the sheriff together. But you must have some idea whose flask it is. You knew everyone at the party.”

  “I’m telling you, I don’t know.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. “All those women at the party are supposedly my friends. I’m not sure I even want to know.”

  She was forgetting that not all the women there were actually her friends. Some of us were working for her, and at least one person had another of Preston Harper’s special order silver flasks. I debated telling her that Ally McBride might be the other woman. In the state she was in, I wasn’t sure what she might do.

  Like they say, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

  Chapter 13

  The older my parents got, the earlier in the evening they ate dinner. Were they afraid of dying on an empty stomach and wanted to hurry up and get in that last supper? Maybe that’s why older people liked eating breakfast food for dinner.

  I had agreed to be at the lodge at five o’clock sharp for a family meal, although I wasn’t sure if I should bring a bottle of wine or orange juice. I grabbed a bottle of Merlot and left Cricket on the front porch to guard the house.

  I had a feeling that my mother invited Tyler so that we could “clear the air.” If so, wine was definitely the right choice. Although, if I had one of those silver flasks, I could hide it in my jacket and take tequila shots every time my mother asked, “Remember how close you two used to be?”

  My thoughts were still too preoccupied with my earlier meeting with Leslie Harper to worry about having supper with Tyler. Leslie had said she needed time to get up her courage to talk to Sheriff Grady. I let her know that I would be at his office at ten the next morning whether she was there or not. She said she would meet me, and I crossed my fingers that she would follow through.

  It was still light out when I got to my parents’ house at the lodge. “I brought red wine,” I held out the bottle when my father opened the door. “I assumed Mother was making her special roast.”

  “Thanks, but we don’t drink anymore. And your mother is grilling up some rainbow trout Tyler and I caught last week.” He took my jacket and hung it near the door.

  Had I just stepped into the Twilight Zone? I couldn’t believe my parents had given up drinking. That’s like giving up breathing. “Dad, is something wrong? Is one of you sick? I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

  “No, sweetie. We’re just trying to be healthier.”

  “But wine is one of the basic food groups. Couldn’t you give up something like tofu instead?”

  He chuckled. “I’ll get you a glass. You don’t have to abstain on our account.”

  “Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to.” I stood by the table and counted the place settings. Why were there six?

  “I see you’re right on time,” my mother said. “Did you wash your hands?”

  I cocked my head. “You mean, after I finished playing in the dirt?”

  “Oh, you know what I mean. Now listen, your brother is going to be here, and I expect you two to be nice. Remember how close you two used to be?”

  Chug. I remembered all right. But that was before he turned into a juvenile delinquent and started lying to everyone. “Who else is coming? I see two extra place settings.”

  “I invited Myra and Freddy. I thought it would be fun to have company.” She hurried back into the kitchen.

  Great. I hoped Myra didn’t want to talk about the murder case. That would make for awkward dinner conversation. The door opened, and Tyler walked in. He took one look at me and turned around, slamming the door behind him.

  I grabbed my jacket and followed him outside.

  “Tyler, wait!” I hurried over to where he stood next to a light pole.

  He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “What are you doing here? Is this an intervention or something?”

  “Hey, it’s no picnic for me either. I assumed they told you I was coming.”

  “Nope. They probably thought a surprise attack would be the only way to get us together.”

  “Look, I don’t want to fight. Surely we can be civil to each other long enough to eat supper.”

  He blew out a stream of smoke. “I suppose.”

  “By the way, I talked to Sheriff Grady about you today.”

  “Really? What’d he say?” He rolled the cigarette anxiously between his fingers and studied it as though it was of great interest.

  “Just that it was hard because of the history between you and Cameron. After all, Cam is his brother-in-law.”

  “Yeah, but Cam’s an idiot. I should never have listened to him.” He stared at the ground.

  “Listened to him about what?”

  Tyler threw down the cigarette and stamped it out with his boot. “Nothin
g. You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

  He was right. I probably wouldn’t believe anything he said.

  He jammed his hands in his coat pockets. “Let’s just go eat and get this over with.”

  Just then, someone pulled up in the parking lot next to us. Myra jumped out of the car. “Have either of you seen Freddy? I waited for him to pick me up, but he never came. I thought he might be here.”

  I shook my head. “Let’s go in and see if he called the lodge.”

  When we walked in, my mother was putting a bowl of rice casserole on the table. “Come in, everyone, and take a seat. Where’s Freddy?”

  “I don’t know.” Myra’s face was wrinkled with worry.

  “We’ll have to start without him. I don’t want the food to get cold.” She passed the platter of fish. “By the way, Wendy, a woman called today asking if the lodge had a lost and found. She said she had lost a flask on Saturday at the birthday party and thought we might have found it.”

  My stomach did a somersault.

  “I told her I hadn’t seen it but would ask you about it.”

  “Who...who was the woman who called? Did you get her name?” I expected to hear that it was Ally McBride.

  “It was that nice party planner, Gwen Palmer.”

  “Gwen Palmer? Are you sure it wasn’t her assistant?”

  “I’m sure. We talked about the possibility of having other events at the lodge in the future. Now that Mr. Squinty’s death is front-page news, I wouldn’t be surprised if lots of people want to have their parties here.”

  Tyler shot me a look. He, too, must have questioned our mother’s faulty logic.

  He and my father made small talk about fishing while my mother gossiped about the movie people who were staying at the lodge.

  “Are any big stars in the movie?” I asked.

  “Just one that I know of. I haven’t talked to him, but I’ve seen him come and go a few times.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I can never remember. He’s that man who was in that soap opera where the divorcee was eaten by an alligator. Then he starred in a sitcom in the eighties with that other guy who looks like one of the men who played in Matlock.”