Authors: Christy Evans

Lead-Pipe Cinch (29 page)

BOOK: Lead-Pipe Cinch

7.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

ads

Personally, I’d have called it a broken heart.

Sheriff Mitchell issued an all-points bulletin for Stan Fischer and the rented Lincoln. They expected to have him in custody soon.

The sheriff ushered me into the same bare room where we’d met before. But this time he had a deputy bring in a small sofa from his office. “Lay down if you want to,” he said. “Things are kind of busy right now, so it might take a bit before the statement is ready to sign.”

I wasn’t happy with his instructions and it must have shown on my face.

“I’ll stop back in a few minutes and bring you up-to-date.”

I sat. The sofa was well worn. The springs sagged a little, like the way a pair of worn-in shoes mold to your feet.

Maybe waiting wasn’t so bad.

I was resting my eyes when the door opened and the sheriff returned, rolling his leather desk chair in front of him. He rolled the chair up next to the little sofa, and dropped a stack of typed pages on the desk.

“You can take your time reading those over, just in case we missed anything. Then you can sign them and get out of here.

“Sue said she’d come get you as soon as I called. She’s on her way over now.”

Thank heaven for Sue. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a friend who would close their business and drop everything to bail them out.

“I suppose you’d like an update,” the sheriff said, settling into his chair. “Mr. Fischer was picked up before he got to Salem. I guess he thought he could just drive the rental car all the way to San Francisco.

“We don’t know everything yet, but it looks like your Mrs. Parks was a very busy lady.”

The sheriff had pieced together the story from what Stan told him, and what the San Francisco P.D. had found out in a few hours of investigation. It seems there were a lot of people around Samurai that had a
lot
to say about Mrs. Barbara Parks.

According to the sheriff, Barbara Parks and Stan had known each other for several years. He’d met her when she was an intern in his lawyer’s office. When I left San Francisco, he’d introduced her to Blake, in hopes of distracting him.

It hadn’t worked out.

But Barbara was smart and ambitious and she recognized the potential at Samurai Security. She met Richard Parks at a company function she attended with Blake, and when her relationship with Blake fizzled she set her sights on Richard.

Who, by the way, most certainly
did
have my job. A job Barbara was sure he would lose if I came back to Samurai.

When she found out Blake had run into me, she called Stan. The two of them had flown to Portland and Stan arranged to meet Blake at the job site.

Stan claimed Barbara grabbed the pipe and smashed Blake in the midsection. She didn’t deny it, but she also hadn’t spoken a single word since her arrest.

The sheriff said he hoped they could get some forensic evidence off the pipe. At least
he
didn’t call it a lead pipe, which earned him points in my book.

Richard, before he collapsed, swore he knew nothing. I had seen the timid, insecure boy lurking beneath the surface when we had talked at Lucy’s Diner. I told the sheriff I thought that was probably true.

He nodded as though making a mental note, but he didn’t take out his notebook or his recorder. The conversation we were having was probably way off the record.

“What about the buyout?” I asked. The damage to my reputation, even with people I never expected to see again, weighed heavily on me. I wanted to clear my name.

“We’re still checking on that. The accountant at Samurai says there was a substantial payment booked at the time you left. It’ll take some time to dig back in the records and figure out exactly what happened.”

He smiled slowly. “Don’t tell anyone I said so, but it sounds like these people are going to owe you some serious money when this is all cleared up.”

Serious money sometime in the future didn’t salvage my reputation. But the truth would, and that meant more than the money. Besides, if Samurai was in financial trouble, there might not be any money to be had. Serious or not.

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

“You’re welcome. But let’s not make a habit of this, shall we? It’s putting a serious cramp on my social life.”

I smiled and sat forward. Moving sent several tendrils of pain through parts of my body, reminding me of the bruises I’d seen while I was changing. I was going to be sore for a while, but I knew how to deal with it.

“No more interference. Promise.”

He grinned, and laid a pen on the table with the papers. “Just sign this, would you, so we can get you out of here?”

When I was through, Sue and Wade were both waiting in the reception area for me. This time they didn’t appear to be fighting.

Wade helped me into the front seat of Sue’s SUV, and climbed in the backseat.

Sue drove out of the lot and turned the wrong way.

“What—?”

“Relax,” Wade said soothingly over my shoulder. “We promised your mother we’d bring you by to see her. It was the only way we could keep her from camping out in the sheriff’s office and raising six kinds of Cain.”

I surrendered. I had planned to visit Mom anyway. Maybe this was for the best. Quick, before I changed my mind.

One complication: Gregory was sitting in Mom’s living room when we arrived. I would have to find a way to talk to her alone.

That was easier than I thought. After I had reassured everyone that I would be just fine with a little rest and a decent meal, Mom motioned me to follow her into the kitchen.

Back to normal, helping Mom in the kitchen. Maybe I could find a way to tell her what I needed to while we worked.

But there wasn’t any food to prepare. She just wanted to talk to me in private.

“Georgie, I am so glad you’re safe. I have to admit”—she choked up a little, genuine concern thickening her voice—“I was really worried that the sheriff thought you had actually hurt that man.

“I knew you couldn’t have; you couldn’t hurt a fly. You used to carry spiders outside so your dad wouldn’t smash them.”

“Thanks, Mom. And thanks for posting my bail. I didn’t want you to have to do that, but I appreciate that you did.”

“You’re welcome.” Her eyes were moist, and I hated where I was going to take this conversation. “I think we’re getting along better these days, don’t you, Georgie?”

I nodded, hating myself for the words that waited for an opening, an opportunity to ruin her day. Couldn’t it wait just a little longer? Couldn’t I let her have this one afternoon?

If I did, it would never get said.

“I think maybe we are, Mom.” I drew in a deep breath and prepared to smash the fragile truce.

“I wanted you to be the first to know.” Mom rushed in before I could speak. She held out her hand—her left hand—and wiggled her fingers.

There, on the third finger where she had worn my father’s simple solitaire and gold band, was a diamond big enough to choke on.

Which is exactly what I did.

Mom rushed over to me and patted my back. Maybe a little harder than was absolutely necessary.

When the coughing fit passed and I could once again breathe—and speak—I managed to croak out, “What?”

Not the most brilliant reply, but Mom hardly noticed.

“Gregory proposed last night,” she said, blushing. I didn’t want to know what there was about his proposal that made her blush. Ever.

“I want you to be my maid of honor,” she said. “Of course, most girls your age it would be matron of honor, but since you’re still not married . . .”

She let her rebuke trail off, but the dig wasn’t lost on me. In my mid-thirties and still not married. It was a disgrace.

How much of Gregory’s proposal was based on love, and how much was based on Mom’s finances? Was he like Blake? Did I even know how Blake really felt?

And if I wasn’t sure about Blake, how could I be absolutely sure about Gregory?

But I did know about his financial problems. Even if I couldn’t tell Mom, or have her find out how I knew.

“I’d be thrilled to be your maid of honor, Mom.”

I hugged her, looking over her shoulder at my crossed fingers.

chapter 32

Wade drove me home.

The Beetle was in the driveway, carefully locked up. When I opened the front door I found an envelope from the sheriff’s department that had been dropped through the old mail slot.

Inside was the Beetle key, and a note.

“Sounds like she needs a valve adjustment. Call me at the station and we can set up a time next week. It’ll take me about fifteen minutes.

“Carruthers.”

The station phone number was printed neatly at the bottom of the paper.

I chuckled and stuck the note to the refrigerator with an Airedale-shaped magnet. Nice to know somebody who knew how to care for my old Beetle. It might be a relic, but it was mine.

“Georgie?” Wade slid out a kitchen chair, and motioned for me to sit across from him.

I perched on the edge of the chair. Something in Wade’s voice had my tired brain going in circles.

“This has been a crazy week for you, hasn’t it?”

I nodded, waiting to see what he said next.

“Do you miss all the computer stuff? Everyone from down there kept saying how good you were.” Wade stood up, as though he couldn’t face me as he asked the next question.

“Are you every tempted to go back?”

“Back there?” I asked, caution slowing my words. “Or back to the computer work?”

He shrugged. “Either. Both.”

Trust. I was learning to trust. That meant telling him the truth. I swallowed hard.

“Back to San Francisco? Absolutely not. I don’t ever want to work that many hours or under that much stress. No.”

“But? There’s a
but
in there, Georgie.” He looked down at me from a couple feet away.

“But I did enjoy the work itself. The things I was able to accomplish. Yeah, I miss that sometimes.”

“And you got sucked back in, didn’t you?”

My turn to shrug. “A little, I guess.”

“Then maybe you aren’t really as through with it as you thought. Is that possible?”

The thought unnerved me. I had a new life, and the old one was gone. Or was it?

Wade looked at me, and a grin spread across his face.

“You’re not sure, are you? I can see it in your eyes. You’re wondering if maybe it’s still there.”

“So what are you so amused about? You look like you have some wonderful answer to all my problems.”

I crossed my arms and scowled at him. How could he look so cheery when he was talking about messing my life up again?

“You’re going to have to look at your options, Georgie. Maybe you need to be doing something with the talent you have.

“Do you remember what Chris Knight said in the movie the other night?”

Huh?
Real Genius
? What did that have to do with this?

I shook my head. Wade pulled me out of the chair, and tilted my chin up to look in his eyes.

“Your favorite movie and you don’t remember? Georgie, you have to at least consider the alternatives. You have a real gift. Like he said, ‘It’s a moral imperative.’ ”

My lips twitched as I looked at Wade, grinning back at me. A smile spread slowly across my face.

“You’re right,” I said. “It’s a moral imperative.”

“Got it right the first time,” Wade said, rewarding my answer with a kiss.

plumbing tips