Dirty Little Secrets (Romantic Mystery) Book 1 in the J.J. Graves Series (14 page)

“Marie Petit?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, no. She didn’t close the shop last night until nine, and I had to go on call at ten. Let’s just say that last night was a night for the record books. Jenny Negley called to report an intruder, but when I got to her house she answered the door dressed like the porn star version of Cat Woman. She asked me if I was there to declaw her. Whatever that means. Scared the hell out of me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s your own fault for being so damned pretty. What’s a girl to do but try to think of inventive ways to catch the most eligible bachelor in town?”

“Well, my night didn’t stop there. After I left Jenny mewing after me, I had to head over to the Knights of Columbus hall and break up a fight between Bob Shiney and Harvey Wallace.”

I wasn’t too surprised to hear this bit of news. Bob and Harvey had been feuding for close to twenty years now, and they were always getting into scuffles. I can’t say I could really blame Bob all that much. Harvey had run off and eloped with Bob’s daughter as soon as she’d graduated high school, and him being more than twenty-five years older than her at the time. There were a few people in town who’d said the affair had been going on even before she’d graduated, but those folks never said it to Bob’s face. And it was kind of self explanatory since Amanda gave birth seven months after they’d said their vows. But since Harvey and Amanda had been married all this time, it was my personal opinion that it was time for Bob to just let it go.

“And then I got another 911 call from Stella Duggan,” Jack continued. “I had to give her a citation for reporting a false crime and tying up the emergency lines. This is the fourth time she’s called in a month. Not to mention last night seemed to be the night for stupid kids to play pranks all over town. I can’t tell you how many kids I saw with rolls of toilet paper in their arms.”

“All in a night’s work, Sheriff.”

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand over his face.

Jack looked tired. He’d been running all over the county yesterday afternoon trying to find a murderer, and then he’d had to work all night because the Sheriff’s department was understaffed due to budget cuts. He had a secretary and a dispatcher, a handful of detectives, and only slightly more than that to work patrol. And between the two divisions they had to take turns covering the D.A.R.E. program at the local schools, funeral escorts, parades or any other event that needed security. They were stretched way too thin, and the extra hours were weighing heavy on Jack.

“Have you had any sleep at all?” I asked.

“Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours before shift.” He looked out the window from my office. “Miserable day for a funeral.” The snow was piled high and there were still a few wet flurries falling. “I moved back here so I wouldn’t have to do violent crimes scenes.”

Ah, now we were getting to the crux of the problem. Jack used to be on the S.W.A.T. team in D.C. But he’d resigned after he’d been the last cop left alive when a drug operation went bad. And he’d been barely alive at that. He’d taken three bullets, had a collapsed lung, a ruptured spleen and a broken femur. Not to mention the blood loss. By all accounts he should have been dead, but he was here and his friends weren’t. He couldn’t handle high pressure situations anymore, so he’d resigned and moved back to Bloody Mary. But Jack’s always kind of been my hero, and I believed he could handle more than he thought.

“You’re a different person than you were in D.C., Jack. A stronger person. A stronger cop.”

“It doesn’t feel like it, especially when someone gets murdered right under my goddamned nose and my gut tells me it’s not the most obvious suspect,” he said. The frustration and anger were apparent across his face. “And if that DNA sample comes back negative tomorrow it means I’ve got nothing, and I’m as useless here as I was there.”

“That’s bullshit, Jack. What? Are you fishing for compliments? You know you’re a good cop. If we hit a snag tomorrow with the DNA, then all we have to do is find another thread to pull.”

I could tell the no pity angle worked because Jack lost the sullen look that was on his face.

“Fine, you’re hired as temporary deputy then,” he said.

“Damn, that’s what I get for opening my big mouth and trying to help.” I never could get the upper hand on Jack. “Do I at least get to carry a gun?”

Jack looked horrified at the thought. “Hell no, but I’ve got a tin badge lying around my office somewhere.”

“I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with that.”

“Let’s go to a funeral,” he said, tossing me my coat. “And for God’s sake, get that grin off your face. It’s creeping me out.”

###

Fiona’s funeral was everything I’d thought it would be and more. Miserable being the word that came to the forefront of my mind.

The men who’d dug the grave had looked cold and worn out when they’d come in to collect their checks. They’d said it had been like digging through ice, and in a sense, that’s exactly what they’d been doing.

There were only a smattering of people who’d braved the cold to come say farewell to Fiona. Besides me and Jack, Phyllis and her husband sat rigid and stoic under the green plastic awning that covered the family plot. Phyllis blotted her tears with a white handkerchief and kept her head held high.

George sat at the opposite end of the row, flanked by two cops and an attending physician, and he wept softly into his hands. Dr. Givens shot me disapproving looks like I was the one who’d caused George so much emotional pain.

Dickey had come without his wife or his secretary. It wasn’t often I saw him without one or the other. He was dressed in his banker’s clothes, obviously there to represent First National. Which reminded me that we needed to ask Dickey if he would let us in the bank today to collect the contents of the box.

Wanda Baker, of the Baker Bed and Breakfast, sat towards the back, and Stanley Lipinski sat next to her, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. I always wondered if there was more going on between the two of them than Sunday brunch. They seemed awfully cozy. Wanda kept giving me knowing glances, and I had to turn away before my face flamed any hotter.

I recognized a couple of teachers from James Madison Preparatory where we’d all gone to school, and Floyd Parker from the King George Gazette was there because it had been a while since something this newsworthy had happened around here. I shot Floyd a nasty look just out of habit and ignored the smarmy kiss he blew me.

Vaughn and Eddie stood, freezing like the rest of us, but they’d come because they’d known Fiona and I had been close once upon a time. But that was the entire list of people who’d come for Fiona. It made me wonder who would come to wish me off into the afterlife when it was my time to go. Was there more than a handful who cared? There sure as hell wasn’t any family who would send me off. They were all lying four plots up and two over.

Jack put his arm around me and squeezed gently, like he’d known what was going through my head.

I worked with death on a daily basis and understood better than most how fragile our mortality was. It was funny how some people, like Jack, had gone their whole lives without losing one person who was close to them, while I’d lost everyone. It hardly seemed fair for God to take so much away and not give anything in return.

The Reverend Jonah Thomas spoke words of comfort, but I ignored the content and let the gentle flow of his voice soothe me. I’d heard the words too many times already in my thirty years.

And then the service was over, and Fiona Murphy was lowered into the cold ground in a mahogany box lined with satin. Red roses were thrown into the open grave, and snow flurries dotted the fresh dirt with white. A sad end for any life.

There was still someone out there who was responsible for putting Fiona in that grave, and it was our job to find him. Somewhere, in the secret life Fiona led, laid the key to bringing her justice.

Phyllis and her husband cleared out quickly, with barely a goodbye between them, and the rest of the mourners took the hint and went back to minding their own business.

Dickey and Vaughn waited for me and Jack at the end of the ceremony. I had to stay until the bitter end and make sure there was no funny business before Fiona was buried. I didn’t want any stolen bodies on my watch.

It was always weird seeing Dickey and Vaughn standing so close together. They were a study in light and dark, complete opposites in every way, but still friends despite it all. Dickey was tall and golden, perpetual tennis tan and capped teeth. Blue eyes that I knew for a fact he enhanced by bright blue contacts and muscles he got honest by swimming every morning in the indoor pool he’d had installed when he and Candy had first married.

Vaughn was as dark as Dickey was light. Swarthy skin that had been passed down from some Mediterranean ancestor and black hair that he wore in a long pony-tail. His goatee was always trimmed and neat and his eyes were black as pitch. He was just my height and wore diamond studs in both ears. Vaughn was just as in shape, if not better, than Jack or Dickey because he enjoyed rowing. He’d even had a shot at the Olympics a few years ago, but had turned it down because he’d said it had become too commercialized.

I thought it was interesting that Jack had more money than both of the other men combined, but he always managed to dress without having to make the latest fashion statement. That’s probably why the two of us got along so well. Jack had money but chose not to flaunt it, and I had very little and just didn’t care about making any kind of statement at all.

I usually didn’t feel so self-conscious when Eddie was around because he was going soft around the middle, and I didn’t have to pretend like I was using the gym membership they’d bought me for my last birthday. Only four men would buy a woman something as insulting as a gym membership for a special occasion.

“I’ve got to get back to the store,” Vaughn said, leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek goodbye. “I’ve got a couple coming to pick up a few things I bought for them at auction. But I so wish I could go to the bank with you guys. It sounds like a real adventure.” Vaughn always managed to make everything sound like a grand adventure. It was just part of his makeup.

“I’ll make sure to give you the play-by-play later,” I promised.

“Good. I also want to hear about the writer. I didn’t think you’d ever get over that four-year drought. Though next time you should probably tone down the smile for the funeral.”

Jack and Dickey burst out laughing and my face flamed. “If you’re going to make fun of me I won’t give you any details. And he took me to
Dante’s
too,” I said. Vaughn gasped in jealousy, and Jack and Dickey both oohed and ahhed appreciatively.

We said goodbye to Vaughn and turned towards our own vehicles.

“I’m not really supposed to open the bank on Sundays, but I can make an exception for this. It’s not like I have anything better to do,” Dickey said forlornly.

“Uh, oh,” I said. “Trouble in paradise?” Jack nudged me in the ribs in a subtle reminder to mind my own business, but I’d never been one to hold anything back.

“You could say that. Vanessa wants to have a baby.”

Vanessa Hart was Dickey’s secretary. NOT his wife. So I could understand why Dickey might be depressed about the situation. I was glad I wasn’t in his shoes.

Jack broke his own rule and butted in. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’d leave Candy in a heartbeat, but she’d skin me in the divorce. She doesn’t care about Vanessa so much as long as she gets to be the “wife.” I’ve always loved Vanessa, but this is getting out of control.”

“You’re just now realizing this?” I asked.

“I’ve thought about breaking it off with Vanessa and finding someone new. Someone who has less demands and just wants sex, but I don’t know if I can go through with it. The stress is really starting to get to me.”

“Maybe you need a vacation,” Jack suggested. Dickey really was looking frazzled and strung out.

“You’re probably right. It’s just that Candy would probably want to come with me. I just despise that woman. What in the world was I thinking when I married her?”

He’d probably been thinking he’d gotten her pregnant because that’s what she’d told him, but it had turned out to be a false alarm. No one had ever accused Dickey of being the sharpest knife in the drawer.

“Sometimes when she starts bitching at me, I just want to grab her by the throat and start squeezing until her little nagging head pops right off.”

“Whoa, buddy. Seriously. Take a vacation,” Jack said. “I’ve got enough murders on my hands right now without having to arrest you too.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Let’s head over to the bank. Being in the graveyard is depressing me more than I already was. Until now, I was pretty sure I’d already hit my lowest point. I think I’ll try the new woman angle. It couldn’t hurt.”

Yeah, but it couldn’t help either, I thought.

The drive was quiet to the bank. We followed closely behind Dickey’s black Audi a block over to the parking lot of First National Bank. “Do you really think Dickey would hurt Candy?” I asked Jack.

“I sure as hell hope not,” he said. “Even though I could understand the temptation. But he’s got to get a grip before he has a heart-attack or something. Juggling two women is hell on earth. That’s why I stick with one at a time and never stick long.”