Fixin' To Die (A Kenni Lowry Mystery Book 1) (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

“I don’t know what got into me,” I groaned, looking down at the tip of my shoe. I shoved my toe in the broken concrete at the threshold of The Tattered Cover Books and Inn, which was next door to Ben’s. “It was like I went crazy. I continued to batter her with questions that I should’ve brought her in for questioning to do. Not in front of everyone.”

I looked up and blinked the tears from my eyes, because I wasn’t sure if I was seeing things. Finn Vincent stood at the door of his hotel room without a shirt on and his jeans unbuttoned.

The sign in the background illuminated Finn’s face, giving it the glow of an angel. Or maybe it was just me hoping he could be my angel and save me from the embarrassment Viola White was about to bestow upon me.

Finn shut the door, leaving me standing there in the night air.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve called first,” I grumbled, turning around to walk down the sidewalk to my car parked down the street.

“Wait.” Finn opened the door and stepped out, shutting it behind him. He skipped up beside me. Fully dressed. “I had to put on a shirt.” A corner of his lips tugged up, sending my heart into a flutter.

“Shirts are optional in Cottonwood.” I smiled.

“Have you been drinking?” he asked, tucking his hands deep into his jean pockets.

“No, but that might help.” I shook my head and pointed toward Ben’s. He nodded.

“Nah. It will only cloud your judgement even more.” He held the door of Ben’s and ushered me in.

I stopped in front of him and watched his eyes address my outfit.

“What? This is a Euchre tournament outfit. Comfort.” I referred to my jeans and oversized sweatshirt.

“Okay.” He shrugged.

He danced around me and pulled a chair out for me at the same table near the window we had sat in before.

“Thank you,” I said and blushed.

“I do have good manners,” he said and took the seat across from me.

Ben looked over and smiled. Ignoring him, I threw two fingers up in the air.

“Make it three,” Finn said getting Ben’s attention.

I put three fingers in the air. Ben acknowledged us.

“Okay. What did you do? And is it going to compromise the case?” he asked.

Ben walked over, two cups in one hand for me and one cup in the other for Finn.

“I’ll be back with cream.” He held a finger up and on his way back flipped the front door sign to “Closed.”

“He’s closed.” Finn started to get up.

“Don’t mind that.” I waved him to sit back down between sips. “He’s used to seeing me here at all hours of the night. Plus, he lives upstairs. I’ll lock up on my way out.”

Ben ran the creamer over and went back to sweeping the floor, not paying a bit of attention to us. Not much anyway. I did see a couple of glances, but it was probably his curiosity getting to him.

“I pretty much accused Viola White of Doc Walton’s murder.” The words coming out of my mouth made me sick all over again. “It was horrifying.”

“Why did you do that?” Finn looked how I felt. Appalled.

“I was going off the tip that Doc Walton wasn’t renewing her lease and her high insurance policy against theft.” I paused and took a sip of coffee. “I tried to look in her mouth to see if her teeth matched the bite marks, but I can’t tell the difference between real teeth and fake ones.”

“After I went to Toots’s house and she wasn’t there, I went by Cowboy’s Catfish to see Wyatt so I could ask him about the diamond. He wasn’t there.” Finn tapped his finger on the edge of his mug. I noticed he wasn’t drinking much. “Have you seen him?”

“No. I know he’s probably tired from all the paperwork he had to fill out for the forensic lab. He isn’t used to working so much, but we do need to make sure that he filed the missing diamond report,” I said. “Viola will hire the best lawyer if we don’t file her stolen jewels exactly by the book.” Finn was staring out the window. His eyes held a faraway look. I pointed to his cup of coffee. “Aren’t you going to drink it?”

“Yeah.” He shook his head like he was shaking off an idea. “I was just thinking about something.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He smiled from behind the steam coming up from his mug as he took another sip. Then he must’ve changed his mind. “I looked around Wyatt’s desk to see what reports he had filed. I didn’t see the diamond file, but I wasn’t wanting to snoop either.”

“I’ll ask him in the morning. I’m sure he did it.” I shook my head and let out a sigh. “Viola’s got a lot of clout in this town.”

Finn nodded. His eyes slid to the pin on my shirt. I raised my hand to touch it.

“I heard you’ve never really gotten over his death.” He gave that empathetic smile that I hated. I was used to that smile from everyone telling me how sorry they were about Poppa.

“My mom?” I asked. I wouldn’t put it past my mama to tell Finn everything. She was already scheming ways to get us down the aisle.

“Wyatt,” he responded, giving me a little shock.

“Wyatt?” I repeated with a little bit of disbelief.

I took another drink of my coffee and pondered Wyatt’s motive to tell Finn about my relationship with my Poppa.

“It’s nice to see another side to you.” Finn’s finger tapped the edge of his cup.

My brows cocked and my head tilted. Anger poured out of my mouth. “I’m not sure why he’d be discussing my history with you.”

“Actually, he was saying how this case has made him see glimpses of your Poppa and how great a sheriff he was,” Finn said. “I’d take that as a compliment if I were you. And I agree, you are a good sheriff.”

Reaching over, he cupped his hand over mine. The warmth of his palm sent an unfamiliar sense of chill bumps over my wrist, up my arms, and down my body.

“I…” I was a nervous wreck. I swallowed. Hard. “I am starting to understand what my Poppa went through.”

“No!” Poppa smacked the table, making the coffee cups rattle. My second cup of coffee spilt over the rim. “Do not touch her!”

Finn and I jerked apart.

“What was that?” His brows furrowed.

“Ouch!” My face scrunched up in pretend pain and I stuck my leg out from underneath the table, swinging it back and forth. I rubbed my thigh. “Cramp. Cramp.”

I did my best Oscar-worthy performance trying to cover up Poppa’s crazy outburst.

“It’s the coffee.” He pointed between my two cups. “You drink way too much caffeine.”

“It’s not enough coffee.” I swung my body back around and grabbed my coffee, taking a big long sip of it.

Poppa stood next to Finn, taking a good long look at him.

“That was fast.” Finn grabbed a couple of napkins and threw the pile on top of my coffee spill.

“What was?” I sopped up the coffee mess and left the saturated napkins in a pile.

“You got over that cramp real fast.” He smiled. “Or did my hand make you flinch?”

“Don’t be a jerk.”

Damn, he was good. Or I was just a bad actor.

“What am I going to do about Viola?” I changed the subject, taking the heat off of my fake cramp.

“Nothing.” He shrugged and pushed his coffee away from him. “It’s business. You used your instinct and now we can investigate her motive even more.”

I eased back in my chair. Finn was right. I had to remind myself that even though Cottonwood was a small town and everyone knew everyone’s personal business, they didn’t need to know the sheriff’s business.

“Maybe he isn’t so bad.” Poppa bent down and looked directly into Finn’s eyes. “I want him to be your partner in your job. Not your life, even though I can see he makes you happy.”

Finn blinked a couple of times. His head moved back slightly and he squinted as though he was trying to focus on something in front of him. Poppa.

“Are you okay?” I fished, clenched my teeth, and popped my eyes open and took a long look at my Poppa, hoping he’d get the hint.

“Yeah.” Finn rubbed his eyes with his thumb and finger. He squinted a couple of times as though he was trying to get his eyes to focus. His chair squeaked across the old tile flooring when he pushed back from the table. “I’m just tired. I was half asleep when you knocked on the door.”

“Drink your coffee.” I sighed in relief when he didn’t mention Poppa.

Finn was quiet for the rest of the night, even on the walk back. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence because my mind was still going over everything about the investigations.

“Kenni.” Finn stopped in front of the Tattered Cover with his room key out and ready. He reached out and put the same warm hand on my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m here for you. I have a lot of resources and I know you’re holding back on me.”

It was the first time Finn called me by my nickname, and it made my heart flip flop.

“I’m not,” I pish-poshed his idea. “It’s no secret that a small town like Cottonwood likes to gossip, and you just never know who’s on your side and who you can trust.”

“I’m not from Cottonwood, and I’m not just someone.” His eyes were compelling and magnetic. I tried to look away, but my eyes wouldn’t cooperate with my brain. “Let me in as a friend. I’ve found things really click with partners when I’m friends with them.”

“I gotta go.” I took a step back before I turned around, giving a slight wave. “I’ll see you in the morning,” I called over my shoulder, not giving him the opportunity to ask me where and what time.

He was finding his way around Cottonwood better than most lifelong residents. Maybe that was what was so appealing to me.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The light in my kitchen pierced the window and flooded out into my dark side yard. I slowed down when I approached the house, but let the Wagoneer roll on by as I rubber-necked into the windows of my house.

A shadow that was not Duke’s crept across the large bay window from my living room. My heart pounded, my palms beading with sweat.

“Poppa, where are you?” I cried out. “What good are you if you can’t ghost yourself into my house and see who is in there?”

Was he there to help or haunt me? Right now I needed the help.

“Poppa?” I called out again.

Of course he wasn’t anywhere around when I needed him. I flipped the headlights off and rolled down a couple of houses past mine until I came to a complete stop.

I reached under my seat and grabbed my shoulder holster.

“Here I come.” I unsnapped my gun from the holster and got out of the car, keeping the gun snug in my two-hand hold.

In the dark of the night, I prowled around in the shadows like a cat, keeping out of the full moon’s spotlight. When I got to the side of my house, I made sure to stay low underneath the windows, and headed around the back of the house where I knew my motion light had burned out. It had been on my list of to-dos and now I regretted not working down that list.

The back door was flimsy because Duke always used his paws as a battering ram on it to let me know he wanted to go out. He didn’t scratch like most dogs; he ran full force and jumped up, making the screws loosen a little more each time. Tightening the screws was also on my to-do list. Regardless, I rarely locked my doors. Maybe I’d have to rethink that.

Using my dominant hand, I pointed the barrel of the gun down. My thumb was on one side of the grip and I kept my middle, ring, and pinky fingers curled securely around the other side just below the trigger guard. I planted my back up against the brick of the back side of my house, right next to the back door. Slowly I brought the gun straight out in front of me and cupped my other hand around my gun hand to keep me from shaking. It was the first time I had ever come face to face with an intruder, and I wasn’t sure how this was going to go down.

When I saw the shadow pass by the light of the kitchen, I made a swift movement sideways, kicking in the door with my right foot, smacking the door open.

“Hold it right there!” I screamed, staring down the sight of my Magnum at the back of someone. The intruder stopped dead in her tracks, arms up. “Mrs. Brown?”

“Goodness, child.” Mrs. Brown, my neighbor, turned around and put her hands on her large chest. Her hair was tucked up under a nightcap and her face had paste all over it. “You can’t go running around pointing that thing at everyone.”

“Mrs. Brown.” Confused as to why she was here, I lowered the gun. Duke jumped on me, putting a paw on each shoulder. “Why are you here?”

“Jolee was delivering my Meals on Wheels nightly snack and I told her I was going out for a walk.” She shook her bony index finger at me. “She told me not to since there was a killer on the loose, but I said I’m fine because I live right next to Sheriff Lowry and she won’t let nothing happen to our neighborhood. And that’s when she said she forgot to let Duke out and asked me if I could since I was going on a walk.”

My hands were still shaking. Duke wasn’t moving. I turned the safety on and set the gun down on the counter.

“I’m sorry. Jolee didn’t tell me you were going to let him out.” Thank God I didn’t open fire on my neighbor. “Thank you. I was just freaked when I didn’t see any cars in the driveway and a shadowy figure walking around in here.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Her feet shuffled over to the back door. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’ll walk you home. It’s the least Duke and I can do.” I looked over at my door hanging off the hinges. That item on my to-do list just became a priority. “Be careful of the door I just broke,” I warned and helped her out.

What should have been a five-minute walk took us about twenty. Duke didn’t mind. He sniffed, lifted his leg, and peed on everything in our path.

“That dog never runs out, does he?” Mrs. Brown chuckled. Duke had peed on every single bush along her small red brick ranch house. I held the screen door open for her. Her hand shook as she tried to get the key in the hole.

“Polly told me about the robbery.” Mrs. Brown turned the key and opened the door. I had forgotten she was Polly Parker’s great-aunt. “Would you like to come in?”

“I would like to make sure you are safe and sound.” I followed in behind her and Duke darted in too. The smell of mothballs made my stomach curl. “It’s the least I can do for you.”

“Ask about Polly.” Poppa appeared out of nowhere. It took everything I had not to give him a piece of my mind. If he’d shown up when I needed him to, I wouldn’t be worried about Mrs. Brown and cardiac arrest.

The morning gossip would be buzzing with the fact that I’d pulled a gun on her, and if going in to make sure she was safe would give her a reason not to rat me out on my behavior, then it was worth it.

“Do you know who broke into Viola’s place?” Mrs. Brown shuffled from light to light, flipping them on.

Her house was full of antiques. She could open up her own shop and give Ruby a run for her money.

“I have some good leads, but nothing solid yet.” I put the emphasis on yet so not to look like a complete idiot.

“Polly said it shook her up real good.” Mrs. Brown and I made our way into her kitchen.

There were papers and books all over her kitchen table, but the rest of the house was spotless.

“What were you looking up?” I asked out of curiosity and took a couple of steps toward the table.

“Polly has been experiencing some strange sensations in her legs and arms, so Doc Walton did some testing and diagnosed her with a genetic disease.” Mrs. Brown stirred uneasily around her kitchen. She didn’t look at me. “Only we don’t have the disease in our family.”

“Is it serious?” I asked.

“Enough to put her in a wheelchair at a young age.” She picked up a piece of paper with long words written on top of it. “HSP. It stands for Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia.”

“Take the paper,” Poppa encouraged me.

“I’m trying to figure it out. Her mama is none too happy with how Polly is spending her time with Mayor Ryland.” Mrs. Brown huffed and shuffled back out of the kitchen, letting me know it was my time to go.

“She is?” I asked.

“Kendrick Lowry.” A shadow of annoyance crossed her face. “I know you have flipped over Polly’s life backward and forward to see if she had anything to do with the break-in at White’s Jewelry. I know you’ve figured out there is some sort of relationship between her and the mayor. I told her mama it was because Polly never had a good relationship with her daddy.” Mrs. Brown let out a long sigh. “Especially since they had her so late in life.”

All the information Mrs. Brown was telling me was being fully recorded in my head.

“No offense, but your niece has pampered Polly into a princess and that includes her daddy. So having her later in life didn’t affect their relationship.”

“It has more than they let you know.” A sneer hovered around Mrs. Brown’s lips.

“Can I have this piece of paper?” I asked Mrs. Brown. She simply pushed it toward me. I picked up the paper and folded it, putting it in my pocket.

“Come on, Duke.” I patted my leg and he came running. “Good night, Mrs. Brown. Thank you for letting Duke out and I’m sorry about the gun thing. Habit.”

“Night night, dear.” She shut the door behind me and I was happy to hear her run the slide lock.

The only thing I wasn’t happy about was her not saying she wasn’t going to tell anyone how I had pulled the gun on her, though I had good reason.