Authors: Christy Evans
Lead-Pipe Cinch (24 page)
When I finally walked out into the lobby my welcoming committee was milling around not knowing what to do with themselves. Mother and Gregory were sitting in a pair of the molded-plastic chairs, their heads close together.
Wade and Sue stood on opposite sides of the small room. From the thunderous expression on Sue’s face, it had not been a pleasant wait.
As soon as I emerged, the race was on to see who could reach me first. Sue and Wade were practically body blocking one another, and in the confusion my mother got to me first.
She threw her arms around me and broke into sobs. I couldn’t remember my mother crying. Ever. Even at my dad’s funeral she had remained in control of her emotions; though with the discoveries she had made in the days following Dad’s death anger was a more likely expression than grief.
I was unnerved by this display. I found myself patting her on the back as she clung to me, reassuring her that everything was all right.
“But you were arrested,” she wailed, a fresh burst of tears running down her face. Her makeup was already a ruin. As she dabbed ineffectively at her eyes she only succeeded in smudging the dark mascara into dark circles under them.
I managed to disengage Mother and deliver her into Gregory’s waiting arms. She was still crying softly, but at least the worst of the storm had passed.
Wade and Sue were another story. Wade had wrapped his arm around my shoulders the instant my mother had released her death grip on me. Sue glared at him, and I turned to see a matching expression on his face.
“He could have waited until after dinner,” Wade said. He was clearly continuing an earlier argument. “I would have brought her here myself.”
“Sure. To protect your image.” She moved in close to me, pointedly turning her body so that her back was to Wade. “Georgie, what did you think you were doing?”
“I was going to see an old friend. One that I thought might be able to give me some answers.”
I looked over Sue’s shoulder at Wade, then focused back on my best friend. “If the two of you can stop fighting over me like we were in the fifth grade, we can talk.”
I lowered my voice, hoping Gregory was too preoccupied with my mother’s tears to listen to me. “I think I know what happened. And why.”
I raised my voice, pitching it to carry to my mother and Gregory. “Wade, could you take me to pick up my car, please? I’m really not hungry after all this, and I would just like to go home. I’m sure the dogs are anxious for a walk.”
Sue leaned in close. “They’re fine. I let them out a couple hours ago while we were waiting.” She winked, and I knew she understood that I didn’t want to talk in front of Gregory. Sue shared my opinion of the too-smooth Mr. Whitlock.
“Nonsense,” my mother snapped. She had pulled herself together, and now she marched over and planted herself in front of me. “You’ll come home, where I can take care of you.”
That was more like the mom I knew.
“No, Mom. I have things I have to do at home. I need to be in my own house.” I glanced behind her and caught a fleeting wave of relief pass across Gregory’s face. He didn’t want me in the house any more than I wanted to be there.
Besides, I needed to talk to Wade and Sue about the things I’d learned in San Francisco. And there was no way I could tell them what I knew with Mother around. Or Gregory.
“But you’ve just been arrested, Georgiana. And I posted your bail. I really think you should come home.”
I took a deep breath. Mom was on my side, even though she had a peculiar way of showing it.
“I wasn’t arrested. I haven’t broken any law, and I haven’t been charged with any crime.”
Mom wasn’t budging. “You had to post bail to get out of this dreadful place.” She turned to Gregory, shaking her head. “I can hardly imagine a daughter of mine in a place like this.”
She turned back to me. “And you left town when the sheriff said not to.”
“That’s not exactly what he said. But he’s upset with me, and he wanted to be sure I didn’t do any more traveling without his say-so.”
I looked back at Wade. “Can we blow this pop stand?”
“Georgiana! I want you to come home. After all, I did post your bail. I have a right to know where you are.”
“You’re welcome to stop by anytime to check on me, Mother, and I really do thank you for bailing me out.” I could feel my temper rising and I worked to keep my voice down. “But I want to go home.
My
home. I have dogs that need to be taken care of, and I have a job to go to in the morning.
My
home. I have dogs that need to be taken care of, and I have a job to go to in the morning.
“If it’s the money you’re worried about,” there was a trace of bitterness I couldn’t hide, “I’ll come in after my morning appointment and put the title of the ’Vette down in place of your house.”
Mom took a step back. With her shocked expression and the circles of mascara under her eyes, she looked like a surprised raccoon. I managed not to giggle, though a bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to break free.
I fought down my growing panic, burying it beneath my remaining sliver of control. “I’m leaving,” I said, walking toward the door. “I would appreciate a ride to my car, but I can walk if I have to.”
It was a calculated bluff. After getting up before daylight to fly several hundred miles, tromping around San Francisco, and then coming home to the sheriff’s dramatic gesture, I wasn’t sure I could walk across the street.
But I would try if I had to.
Sue came to my rescue. “The SUV’s in the front lot.”
She held the door for me and tapped her remote. The lights flashed. Nothing had looked that good all day.
Wade ran to catch up with us. “I’ll meet you at the house,” he said and hurried past.
From behind us I heard a man’s rapid footsteps. Gregory overtook us as I was climbing in Sue’s SUV.
“Don’t be too angry with her,” he said. “She’s just scared, and she doesn’t handle it well. Sandy was really worried when the sheriff called looking for you.
“And don’t worry about the money. We know you aren’t going to do anything that would hurt her.”
I nodded and climbed into the SUV. “Thanks.”
“You will call her tomorrow, won’t you, Georgie? She could use some reassurance that you really are okay.”
“Yeah. I will.” I didn’t even cross my fingers.
chapter 26
I buckled my seat belt with shaky fingers and leaned back against the headrest. The car held the distinct odor of dog. It was a comforting smell, reminding me of Daisy and Buddha, my two faithful companions.
My eyes closed and I relaxed for the first time all day. Sue was driving and I was safe for a few minutes.
“Georgie?” Sue shook my shoulder.
I jumped.
“Just resting my eyes,” I said. I scrubbed my face with my palms, trying to scrape away the fog that had overtaken me. All I succeeded in doing was rubbing the faint traces of my early-morning makeup job into my eyes and making them water.
We were in Tiny’s gravel parking lot, a couple spaces over from my car.
“You’re in no shape to drive,” Sue said. “We can come back for the Beetle in the morning.”
I pulled my jacket tighter around me, trying to fight off the chill of fatigue that seeped into my bones. “You’re right,” I answered. The fog crept back over me.
I was forgetting something. Something important. “The laptop,” I said as Sue reached to put the SUV in gear.
I patted my pockets until I found the key, climbed down from the SUV, and retrieved the case from the car. I relocked the doors, and gave the fender a pat. It really was safer in Tiny’s lot overnight than it would be with me behind the wheel.
Wade was waiting in front of the house when we pulled up.
Once we were inside and the dogs were outside—the rugs were amazingly still intact—I confronted the two people I was closest to.
“If you two are going to argue,” I said, putting as much force as I could muster behind my words, “then you might as well leave right this minute.
“I’m fine, I am not in any real trouble with the law, and I am not going to have you two making a big deal out of this. There are a lot more important things to talk about.
“Got it?”
Sue looked like she was about to protest, and I gave her my sternest look. She closed her mouth and nodded.
I looked at Wade, waiting for his agreement. He was hesitating.
“Have I got this right?” I asked. “My boyfriend is fighting with my best friend because
her
boyfriend did his job? Is that about it?”
her
boyfriend did his job? Is that about it?”
Wade winced at my blunt description, because it was accurate.
Sue colored a little, muttering, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Beside the point.” I cut her off. “I broke up with you once”—I looked at Wade—“because I thought I had to choose.”
I looked back to Sue. “And I am not doing it again because of your boyfriend. We all know how well that worked out the first time.”
“Not my boyfriend.”
“Yeah? And why do you blush every time somebody mentions him? And call him Fred while the rest of us call him Sheriff? He
so
is your boyfriend.
so
is your boyfriend.
“But that isn’t what I wanted to talk about. You guys get that, right?”
They both nodded. A bit sullenly, but I really didn’t care, as long as I had their cooperation.
I thought about the microbrew in the refrigerator, but rejected it in favor of hot chocolate. I puttered around the kitchen, while Sue let the dogs in and gave them their treats.
With the cocoa in steaming mugs, I led the way into the living room and pointed to chairs.
“Sit.”
Buddha, ever obedient, plopped his behind down next to my feet and looked at me expectantly. Following commands required a treat in his world.
Sue tried to stifle a giggle, but she failed. Wade grinned and the two of them leaned back in their chairs. We had a truce, thanks to Buddha.
He got his treat.
“I need your help, guys. I think I know who killed Blake, and I think I know why. But I can’t prove it.”
Wade’s brow furrowed with worry.
“I’ll make this quick, I promise,” I said. “Just don’t interrupt.”
I ran down the information I had gathered. Whitlock needed money, and so did Samurai, and it looked like Samurai had the inside track with McComb. What I didn’t know was just how desperate Gregory’s financial situation was.
I looked at Wade, and he shook his head. “We’ve had this talk before, Georgie. I can’t reveal anything about my clients’ finances. You know that.”
I nodded. “So it’s that bad.”
“What? He didn’t say anything.” Sue looked puzzled.
“Exactly. Which is what I expected. See, if it wasn’t bad, he’d have said I was wrong, or I didn’t know anything, or something like that. Instead he said he can’t tell me anything.
“Which tells me I’m right. Gregory Whitlock is in serious financial trouble.”
“But that doesn’t make him a murderer,” Sue protested.
“No, it doesn’t. But it gives him a motive. And who else is there? Besides me, I mean.”
No one had an answer for that.
“There’s something else,” I said. I told them about the rest of my conversation with Richard, about Blake wanting to talk me into coming back to Samurai and about the buyout rumors.
“So Blake was angry with me. It explains a lot about how he acted.” I paused and shook my head. “But it could all have been cleared up if he’d just talked to me.”
“I’m trying to work up some sympathy for him on that score,” Wade said. “But it sounds like he was pretty quick to believe some nasty rumors about you, so it’s kind of difficult.
“But I have to ask, Georgie. What are you going to do?”
That was the million-dollar question. The one I didn’t have an answer for.
I shrugged. “I wish I knew. I don’t think the sheriff really believes I killed Blake, even if Daisy and Buddha”—the Airedales wagged their tails at the mention of their names—“can’t support my alibi.”
“He doesn’t,” Sue said. “Just that when you ran off like that he didn’t have much choice.”
“I know. And I’m sorry I put him on the spot like that. But I had to talk to somebody at Samurai, and Richard was my best bet.
“And, to tell the truth, I was afraid he wouldn’t talk to me on the phone. Flying down there was the only way I could be sure he’d tell me what I needed to know.”
“But that’s beside the point,” Wade dragged the discussion back to his question. “What are you going to do?”
I shook my head. “I have to go do the evaluation with Chad McComb and Stan Fischer in the morning. Maybe that will give me some idea. Because right now, I haven’t got a clue.”
Sue and Wade both tried to come up with some other explanation for Blake’s death. I had to admit, it was possible it had nothing to do with Samurai, or Chad McComb, or anything we knew about. But I didn’t believe it. Why else was he killed here in Pine Ridge?
“What if it’s someone from your old company?” Sue asked. “Maybe there was a power struggle within the company and someone wanted him out of the way.”
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