Bubblegum Blonde (17 page)

"Thanks. I really do appreciate it."

Tyler held out his hand. I took it and hopped off the edge of the bed.

"You're welcome. Now seeing as how your car is completely demolished and we're both going to the same place, I take it that you're fine with me driving you home?"

"Honestly, I couldn't care less who drives me as long as I get there soon…and in one piece," I added as an afterthought. "There's a pair of yoga pants in the dryer, a leftover cheesecake in the fridge calling my name, and I might have a little time to feed Mickey before he makes a poo in my shoes."

"Come again?"

I shook my head. "Never mind. Let's get out of here."

He looked at me, shook his head, and chuckled. "All right. Let's get you home."

We turned to leave, but the curtain was jerked back for a second time. This time it was Kelly who barged in asking questions.

"Oh, my goulash! What in the heck happened? I would've been here sooner, but my cell phone service is janky in my new apartment. All I understood were the words Barb and hospital," she rambled.

I'd called Kelly while in the ambulance instead of Mona simply because I didn't want Mona to have a heart attack. I'd call her first thing in the morning

"I'm fine," I assured her as she pulled me in for a bear hug that made me wince. Apparently the fact that I had been in an accident hadn't sunk in just yet.

"I didn't even know which hospital you were in. My stupid phone was breaking up while you were talking. I just started here because it was closest and hoped for the best."

She held me at arm's length and gave me a once-over. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a little banged up, but I'll be fine after a good night's sleep," I assured her.

I took a look at Kelly. I wasn't sure she looked any better than I did. Her normally sleek black hair looked like a couple of birds had turned it into their love nest. Bags had started to form under her eyes, and she had not a stitch of makeup on.

Bottom line? Kelly looked like an extra from
Night of the Living Dead
, but I wasn't one to talk. I could only imagine how I looked after my little near-death experience.

Kelly blew out a relieved breath then gestured in Tyler's general direction. "What's Captain America doing here?"

I fought the urge to laugh at Tyler's less-than-thrilled expression at Kelly's description of him.

"He thinks that my accident tonight has something to do with our case."

"Really?" she gasped. "Well, did you tell him that he's wrong? This was just an accident." She looked from me to Tyler, then back to me. "Wasn't it?"

I bit my bottom lip and looked away.

As much as I wanted to tell Kelly that the accident and my investigating the case were just a coincidence, I couldn't. What were the chances, really?

"Barb? This was just an accident, wasn't it?" she asked again forcefully. Worry etched itself across her face as she awaited my answer.

"Not exactly," I finally admitted.

"And what
exactly
does that mean?"

"She was run off the road between here and Trinity Grove." Tyler chose that moment to speak up.

"What?" she nearly shrieked. "I should've gone with you. I knew that I shouldn't have let you go out there alone." She tossed her hands in the air.

"I thought Mandy was the mother of this group?" I joked. "And like I told Tyler, it's not the fifties."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." Kelly propped her hand on her hip. "Now, Seriously, Barb. Answers, please."

I knew she was worried about me, so I ignored her tone.

"I didn't need you to go with me," I said calmly. "Besides, who knows what would have happened to you had you gone with me. You could've been seriously injured, and I couldn't live with that."

She reached out and hugged me again, then released me and stepped back.

"I'm just glad that you're okay." She sniffled.

I reached up and rubbed the bruised knot on my forehead with the tips of my fingers. I had one heck of a headache and more questions than answers. I knew these two had every right to question me. They cared about me, but I wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep for a few days.

"Listen, you two," I said quietly. "I'll answer all of your questions, but I really need to get out of here." I slid my uninjured hand into my front pocket then looked at Kelly. "Tyler was just about to drive me home. Would you like to meet us there? I'm pretty sure that the two of you have mostly the same questions, and I'd like to take a shot at only answering them once if at all possible."

Kelly and Tyler exchanged a look then Kelly nodded. "Let's go. My car is out front." She grabbed my arm.

"She's riding with me. That hasn't changed," Tyler said, and from the tone of his voice, there was no room for argument. After the day that I'd had, I couldn't care less who gave me a ride home as long as I got there in one piece.

"Well, all right then," Kelly said. "I'll meet you at your place in about ten minutes. I really should call Mandy and let her know what's happening. I'll also let her know that you won't be coming in tomorrow, so she and I will need to cancel your least important appointments and handle the rest ourselves."

"Thank you." I sighed with relief. "I just have to sign the discharge papers, and we'll meet you at my house. Drive safe."

The joke was on her. Unless hell froze over, there was no way I wasn't going in to the office in the morning. I had too much to tell them and a murder that I was one step closer to solving.

Kelly gave me one last quick hug, eyed Tyler with a hint of irritation, and then hurried down the hall toward the exit, dialing her phone as she went.

"What can you tell me about the car that ran you off of the road? On second thought"—Tyler held up his hand—"just go back to the beginning. Why were you out in Trinity Grove?"

The three of us had made it back to my place in record time. Tyler and I had made it back so quickly because Tyler drove like a madman, and that was putting it mildly. Richard Petty would've been proud.

I had to remind him several times that I'd already been in one accident this evening, and I didn't want to be in another. Of course he ignored me and continued to drive as he pleased.

Kelly, however, must've sprouted wings out of her backside and flew because she was on my front porch waiting when we pulled up in Tyler's black SUV by the curb. I would've nagged her about her reckless speeding, but it would've gone in one ear and out the other just as it had with Tyler. That's just how Kelly was.

I sat propped against one end of my overstuffed sofa with a fluffy blanket over my lap.

If I didn't have a nagging detective questioning me, and a hovering best friend staring at me like I was about to drop dead at any minute, life would be great.

I arranged my favorite fluffy blanket around my legs and took a sip of the salted caramel hot cocoa Kelly had handed me.

The hot cocoa part of her hovering I didn't mind.

"I was following a lead on my case, and it led me out to Trinity Grove."

Tyler cocked a brow at me. "You mean
my
murder case?"

"Your murder case. My murder case." I shrugged. "Let's not spilt hairs." I blew gently on my hot cocoa.

"Come on, Barb. Cut the bull," Tyler said wearily. "I know you have a strict confidentiality rule about your cases and clients, but it's not like I don't already know what you're up to. This is an open murder investigation. I need to know what you've found out so far in case it's pertinent to the investigation. I need to find Lydia Hatchett's killer and keep you from joining her on the list of victims."

I regarded him for a second over the rim of my mug then took a comforting sip. In all honesty, I hadn't found much of anything in the way of evidence leading to who could've killed Lydia Hatchett. I wanted to think that the stud farm had something to do with it all, but I didn't have a stitch of hard evidence.

As much as I wanted to tell him that I'd found a boatload of evidence, I just couldn't.

"All right, how about this?" He leaned his brawny forearms against his knees and tapped his pen against the pad of paper he held. "We'll share."

"Share?" Kelly and I said in unison.

"Yeah. We'll share evidence." He looked from her to me. "Here's what I suggest," he began. "I'll share as much about the case as I can without risking my job or jeopardizing the case, and you can share what you've found with me," he proposed.

Was he serious? I stared at him in open-mouthed shock for longer than I would've liked and longer than I was sure was attractive, but I was at a loss for words.

I leaned over and set my mug of cocoa on the table.

"Why the change of heart all of a sudden?"

He splayed his hands palms up in front of him. "Because I know you're not going to let this case go." His eyes met mine. "Especially not after what happened tonight. So what do you say? We share?"

I glanced at Kelly. She shrugged. "I say spill it, Barb. You were almost killed. Tonight was too close a call. What would it hurt to share information? At least he's willing to now, when before he wouldn't even let you see a simple file."

She was right. Tyler was a great detective. If he had evidence that I didn't, which I knew he did—like I said, he was a great detective—and he shared that evidence with me, it was possible that I could wrap up this case before Jason went to jail.

"All right. You first," I said.

My cat Mickey chose that moment to jump his big coal-black self onto my lap for some love. I scratched his head, and he curled into a ball on my lap, making himself at home.

Tyler leaned back into the chair and ran his fingers through his inky black hair. He looked a bit disheveled, but who was I to judge? It was after two in the morning, and who knew how long it had been since he'd been to bed. I certainly didn't look my best. I took a second longer to admire him. Even though he looked a little rough, he was still the handsomest man I'd ever seen.

"This morning I responded to a call that led me to an alley behind the Thai restaurant over on Fifth Street," he began. "Turns out one of the cooks who works there was taking out the trash and found a gun lying on the ground beside the dumpster. From the position of the gun it looked like someone was in a hurry and tried to toss it in, but missed."

"Like they were running and tossed it at the can without looking?" I asked.

Tyler nodded.

"What kind of gun was it?" Kelly asked.

"It was a nine-millimeter handgun, just like the one that killed Lydia Hatchett," he confirmed.

"Did you pull any prints? Did the bullet from Lydia match the gun?" I fired off questions.

He nodded. "Yes. Ballistics came back this evening just before I heard about your
accident
. Striations on the barrel match the ones found on the bullet that killed Lydia. It's without a doubt our murder weapon, but there weren't any prints, and the serial number was ground off, so there's no way to find out who the weapon belonged to."

 "Jason isn't a registered gun owner, so that's good news for him," Kelly said and crossed her legs in the oversized chair as she sat up a little straighter. "But then again, he still could've purchased the gun illegally and killed Lydia."

I cast her a sarcastic
thanks-a-million-for-your-help
expression, and she grinned. I was trying to get Jason out of a murder charge, not dig the hole he was in deeper.

I continued petting Mickey's head. He opened one eye, looked up at me with an uninterested expression, closed it, and then rested his head back on my thigh. Some help he was.

"Now." Tyler reached over and tapped my toes with his pen to get my attention. "What were you doing out in Trinity Grove?" he asked, then moved from his chair and took a seat on the end of the sofa I was seated on. He reached over and gave Mickey a scratch behind the ears. Mickey opened his eyes, peered at Tyler for less than a minute with the same bored, uninterested expression he'd given me, then reclosed his eyes, and started purring.

Purring.

Mickey was more the scratchy-bleedy type when it came to his attitude with strangers.

Why was he purring? The little traitor. Even my cat wasn't immune to Tyler's charm.

I blew out a frustrated breath. "The day I paid a visit to Hatchett's home—"

"The day you broke in, you mean?" The corner of Tyler's mouth quirked up.

"Whatever." I brushed his interruption away, and he chuckled. "I found some receipts in a hidden cubby in the bottom of Lydia's nightstand."

"How'd you find the cubby?"

"The bottom sounded hollow when I knocked on it." I shrugged.

Tyler jotted down some notes. "Are you sure that the nightstand you were rifling through didn't belong to Robert?" he asked, then reached for his cup of cocoa and raised the cup to his lips.

"Let's just say that the contents of the opposite nightstand told me loud and clear who it belonged to. Unless I'm mistaken and Lydia Hatchett had some use for a bottle of
Jerkins
lotion and a Blu-ray copy of
Busty MILFS IV
"

Tyler nearly choked on his cocoa and quickly grabbed a napkin from the table. Kelly let out a belly laugh. It wasn't what I was going for, but it broke what little tension was left in the room, so hey, score one for me.

"That little man has a freaky bone? He looks so unassuming" Kelly mused.

"Wait." Tyler held up a hand. "When did you meet Robert Hatchett?"

"We talked to him yesterday morning, and just to be clear, I don't think he killed his wife."

Tyler shook his head. "Well, that makes two of us."

"Good," Kelly piped up from her spot in my cozy oversized armchair. "That guy is really hurting right now."

"Who
exactly
do you think killed Lydia?" I asked.

"Honestly,"—Tyler sat his mug back on the table and reached over to pet Mickey again—"I think it was your guy Jason. His money clip, jacket, and fingerprints were found at the murder scene. His alibi is shaky at best since there is no one to corroborate it, and after asking around, I think he and Lydia were in fact having an affair. All signs point to Jason King as the killer."