1 A High-End Finish (17 page)

“I’ll be happy to. But let’s just circle back around to Mac Sullivan for a minute.”

“I figured you might say that.” I pulled out a package of cut-up chicken pieces. I had planned to be sensible and grill them, but now I decided to fry them in a thick cornflake batter. I rarely ate such fattening meals, preferring healthier fruits and vegetables, lean meats, and fish, but lately I’d been going for high fat and calories. Clearly, murder wasn’t good for my diet.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Jane said as she swirled her wineglass. “Mac Sullivan is very cute and hunky and interesting, and he’s a famous author, so it would be awesome to have him living nearby. But don’t you wonder why he would want to live in a small apartment over your garage?”

“I did wonder. But he explained that he needs a place to stay until the restoration of his new home is completed.”

“Has it even started yet?”

“No, and it probably won’t begin for another month. And, yes, I’m bidding to do the work.”

“Why doesn’t he just hire you?”

“Actually, he did. But I insisted that he look at some other companies.”

She shook her head at me. “Of course you did. He’ll hire you, anyway, if he’s smart. You’re the best contractor in town. No, the county. Maybe even the whole state.”

“That might be laying it on a little thick, but thank you.” I smiled at her. “I love you, too.”

She frowned. “Nobody’s lived in the old lighthouse mansion for thirty years or more. Restoring it could take months or even a year.”

“You’re right.” I began to wash the chicken pieces. “At least six to eight months. I’ll know more once I see the inside.”

“So he might be living here all that time.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you sure you want someone staying here for that length of time?”

I glanced over at her. “Um, we’re talking about MacKintyre Sullivan, right? The author? Have you met him?”

“Of course I’ve met him. Oh, you mean because he’s so adorable? Hmm.” She found a head of fresh lettuce in the fridge and set it down near the small sink on the kitchen island. “Okay, I can see how having someone like him nearby would be nice.”

“Nice?” I shot her a look as I patted the chicken dry.

“Sorry. I can’t seem to come up with the right words to describe him.”

“That’s okay,” I said, chuckling as I prepped the coating mixture. “I can.”

“You like him.”

“I do.” I stopped working and turned to her. “He rescued me when I fell off my bike. He stayed with me, drove me back home, carried me up the stairs. It was sweet. And then he talked to the police and I really think he’s responsible for Chief Jensen’s change of heart about me. Mac is funny and kind and gorgeous. And now he’s going to live right up there.” I pointed out the window toward the garage apartment. “Yippee.”

“Chief Jensen is gorgeous, too,” she said softly.

“He is indeed.” I met her gaze. “How lucky are we that two such handsome unattached men have moved to town so recently?”

“Pretty darn lucky,” she said, and we both grinned.

As we talked, I dipped a piece of chicken into the egg mixture, then tossed it into the ziplock bag filled with crushed cornflakes and seasoned flour. Once I had half of the chicken pieces in the baggie, I zipped it closed and shook it until each piece of chicken was completely coated.

“I just hope Mac doesn’t hurt you,” Jane said, pulling a bright red tomato out of the vegetable basket.

“Hurt me? Why do you think he would hurt me?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She turned away from me and fiddled nervously with the utensils next to the chopping block built into the island in my kitchen. “It’s probably stupid.”

“Maybe. But now I’m curious, so please tell me what you’re thinking.”

She didn’t make eye contact with me as she took a quick sip of wine. “Lizzie and I were talking about Mac.”

My lips twisted into a disgruntled pout. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?”

“Just listen.” She moved closer so she could speak in a low voice, as though someone might be eavesdropping. “Don’t you think it’s weird that he writes murder mysteries and he just moved here and already there are two murders?”

I stared at her, truly stunned. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“You’re right.” She walked back to the sink, shaking her head. “It’s a ludicrous theory.”

“You’re damn right it is.” Exasperated, I tossed the stuffed baggie down on the counter. “Where in the world does Lizzie come up with this stuff? I thought she loved Mac. Why would she ever believe he was capable of murder?”

Before Jane could speak, I held up both my hands to cut her off. “And don’t try to pretend this was your idea. Lizzie is the original conspiracy theorist and this is right up her alley. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, because I want to know why she would say something so crazy. And I don’t want her spreading it around town, either. What’s the deal with her? Is she jealous that I met Mac first?” I held up my hands again. “Okay, that was a stupid thing to say and I didn’t mean it. I love Lizzie, but I’m mystified as to why she would ever say something like that.”

It was Jane’s turn to shut me up. “Wait. To be fair, it wasn’t Lizzie who said it. It was Mac.”

I scowled at her.

“It’s true,” she insisted.

“I need more wine.” I grabbed the wine bottle and refilled my glass, then Jane’s. I took a sip, then waved her on. “Okay, go ahead and tell me what you heard.”

“Mac came into Paper Moon yesterday and right away he hit it off with Lizzie and Hal. He stuck around talking to them for an hour. So finally Hal tells him about the two murders that happened recently, and according to Lizzie, Mac laughed and said something like, ‘Don’t you think it’s an interesting coincidence that I just happened to move here and murders started happening?’”

I sipped my wine while I considered Mac’s words. “Okay, I can see how that would freak Lizzie out a little. But it was obviously just Mac’s sense of humor.”

“I think so, too,” Jane said, “even though I don’t know him as well as you do. But, Shannon, listen. Once Lizzie told me what he said, I thought about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that you can’t trust anyone right now. Not a soul.”

“Why not?”

“For all the reasons we’ve already talked about. Someone in town is using your tools to kill people. They’re trying to make you look guilty. Why? I keep asking myself what their motive is, but I can’t figure it out. And who? I haven’t got a clue.” Jane shook her head and gave a complete body shiver. “It’s crazy and frightening to consider that somebody around here has it in for you, but they do. That’s why I don’t think you should trust anyone right now.”

“Not even you?”

“Well, of course you can trust me.”

“Really? You were pretty angry about Jerry Saxton attacking me. You’re a loyal friend to me, so what was to stop you from tracking him down and bashing him over the head, just to let him know he couldn’t go around assaulting your friends and get away with it?”

She stared at me with her mouth open. After a long moment, I smiled. And so did she. And then we started to laugh.

“Oh, my God, what a ridiculous conversation,” she said, leaning against the island counter.

“You started it,” I claimed, and that made her giggle all over again.

After we sobered up, she faced me. “You’re right, you know. I may have been angry enough to kill those two jerks on your behalf. But I would never turn around and try to make you look like the guilty one.”

I smiled at her fondly. “I appreciate that.”

We both went back to work on dinner, but after a minute I stopped and looked at her. “Jane, I trust Mac. He’s smart and he makes me laugh. I’m happy he’s going to be living on my property for as long as he wants to stay. I don’t expect him to take care of me or anything, but having him around might discourage this horrible killer from coming after me.”

“Nobody’s coming after you,” she said, and I noticed her face turning pale. “For God’s sake, Shannon.” She grabbed the wine bottle. “I need more wine. How about you?”

“I just poured you more wine.”

She glanced at her full glass. “Oh.”

I chuckled. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Damn it, I’m scared to death for you!”

I grabbed a dish towel and wiped my hands clean. Then I walked over and enveloped her in a big hug.
We all seem to need more hugs lately,
I thought. “Thank you. I’m scared, too, okay? If I told you everything that Chief Jensen said to me after we found Wendell’s body, you’d be even more afraid for me than you are now. But I’m going to get through all this. And I really appreciate you staying here with me for a few nights.”

“I don’t mind staying with you. We’re having fun, right?”

“Well, mostly,” I said, drowning the last piece of chicken in the egg mixture. “Except when I go into major conniptions thinking Lizzie believes Mac is a cold-blooded killer.”

“Oh, what’s a major conniption between friends?” Jane said lightly.

“Damn straight,” I said, forcing myself to match her breezy tone.

As she pulled out more ingredients for the salad, she began to whistle her grandma’s favorite song, “Put on a Happy Face.”

Fake it till you make it,
I thought, and determinedly hummed along with her. It wasn’t easy because Jane was truly tone-deaf, but after a few minutes, I was surprised to find myself putting on a happy face.

•   •   •

The next morning, Mac brought me a check for the full amount of rent. By noon, he had moved his belongings into the garage apartment.

I still couldn’t believe that the great MacKintyre Sullivan wanted to live in one of my little guest suites over the garage, but I wasn’t about to complain. In fact, I was thrilled. Not only did I have a reliable tenant paying rent for at least a month and maybe longer, but I also had someone living on the premises who made me feel completely safe. The fact that he was crazy gorgeous was a big bonus.

After lunch, I walked up to the town square and grabbed Lizzie for a quick discussion. We walked out the back door of the shop and stood in the small parking lot.

“What is it?” she asked. “Something’s wrong.”

I had to take a deep breath or two before I could blurt out the question. “You don’t honestly think that Mac Sullivan had anything to do with the murders, do you?”

“What? Of course not,” she said, gawking at me like I was the nutball instead of her. “Who in the world would think that . . . ? Oh.” She blew out her cheeks. “Jane. Oh, boy.”

“Yeah. Jane. What’s the deal?”

“Well, see, I was sort of gushing about Mac coming into the store and I told her what he said. I guess I didn’t make it clear that it was a joke.”

“No, you didn’t. She thought it might be a joke, but she was still a little worried.”

“I’m sorry, Shannon.” She hung her head and stared at the ground. “I’d better call and let her know I was only kidding about Mac.”

“I know that would make her feel better.”

“Of course.”

“She’s scared to death that someone’s trying to set me up for the crimes and that they’re coming after me.”

“I’m scared, too,” Lizzie said. “Nothing like this has ever happened here.”

“I know,” I said, and forcefully changed the subject. “So, you and Mac are new best friends, I guess.”

She patted her heart. “OMG, Shannon. Hal and I had the best time with him. He’s wonderful.”

I smiled. “I agree.” I gave her a quick update on Mac renting the garage apartment, and we commiserated over her daughter Marisa’s crush on a new boy at school. Lizzie was sure the crush signaled the beginning of the end of her little girl’s sweet disposition. I hoped she was wrong, but Marisa had just become a teenager, so anything was possible.

After Lizzie went back inside, I walked home in a much better mood. My friends might be a little crazy, but at least they were my kind of crazy.

•   •   •

Later that afternoon, Jane returned to my house. Even though I had a rugged new tenant, she was determined to stay with me until my father came home from his fishing trip. For dinner, we drank more wine and made linguini with grilled sausages, onions, and peppers.

She left again early Friday morning, and ten minutes later, Chief Jensen called to tell me about my bike.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and assured. “The sheriff’s team has finished going over the bike, so you’ll have it back within a few hours.”

“Did they find anything helpful?” I asked.

“A few prints that didn’t match yours. They’ve sent them to IAFIS along with some prints and fibers from Wendell’s car. It’ll be a while before any results come through.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said, then had to ask, “I don’t suppose someone turned in my hammer.”

“Not yet,” he said. “Try not to worry. That’s our job.”

“I’ll try.” I thanked him again and hung up the phone, feeling guilty despite his nice words. I made calls to Carla and Wade to let them know I would swing by their job sites that afternoon to check in and see what was happening. It felt like ages since I’d been on the job.

I took a few minutes to clean up the kitchen and vacuum downstairs before taking a shower and heading out to visit my crews around town. It was a long day and I was tired, but at five o’clock that afternoon, I walked into the Flex-Time gym and greeted the friendly employees at the front desk. As I slid my membership card through their electronic reader, I spotted Penny in the warehouse-sized workout room, running on the treadmill.

Just watching her work out made my muscles groan a little, but I was determined to get myself back into shape again.

After stowing my gear and my purse in a locker, I went out to the floor just as she was cooling down.

“Glad you made it,” she said, breathless.

“I need a few minutes to warm up on the treadmill and then I’ll catch up with you.”

“Perfect.” She flipped her towel around her neck and walked off, so I took over her treadmill.

As I got up to speed, I glanced around the large workout room. Mirrors lined all the walls so it was easy to see everyone else from where I stood on the treadmill. There was a good crowd this afternoon, but not so many that there were traffic jams at any of the machines. I thought about taking a leisurely swim after my workout, but then realized I’d forgotten my bathing suit. Maybe I’d do that next time to decompress after working out.