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Authors: Vanessa Gray Bartal

Tags: #Cozy Mystery

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BOOK: The Pajama Affair
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“I don’t know. It just seemed like the thing to do. Why are you following me?”

“I drove by the dealership to check it out and saw you arrive and pull away. Does your boyfriend have a chauffer?”

“No, that’s his cousin.”

“Did you find out anything important tonight?”

Should she tell him about the guns? Tattling felt disloyal, even though she was still convinced there was nothing amiss. Unfortunately he sensed her hesitation.

“What? You found something, didn’t you? Pull into that restaurant up there and we’ll talk.”

She closed her phone with a forceful snap. She was getting really tired of men ordering her around.

Chapter 11

 

Link could tell she was in a mood before she exited her car. He waited to speak until they ordered coffee and sat at a booth in the back.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” She tossed her purse in the booth and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’ve had enough girlfriends to know that nothing always means something.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.

They sat in silence a few minutes sipping their coffee.

“So what did you find when you rifled through his things?”

She choked on a sip of coffee. “I did not rifle through his things.”

“But you did find something,” he guessed.

She sighed. “Yes, I found something. But I don’t want to tell you because you’re going to make a big deal of it, and it’s really not a big deal.”

“Just tell me,” he said.

“He has a gun. Or should I say a gun collection.”

“And you never knew about it before?”

She shook her head.

“How is that possible? Haven’t you been to his house before?”

“Yes, lots of times.”

“And you never noticed a gun collection.”

“He doesn’t keep it at his house; he keeps it at his parents’ house. I just happened to see the one gun in the pantry.”

“What did it look like?”

She blinked at him. “Black with a large hole in the middle.”

“Was it a rifle, a shotgun, a handgun?”

“It was small, so I would guess it was a handgun.”

“Did it look like this?” He moved aside his coat and showed her his gun.

She shook her head. “It was sleeker, and the barrel had some sort of attachment on it.”

He froze. “Do you have a pen and paper in your purse?”

“Yes.” She rifled through her purse and produced a pen and paper for him. He spent a moment concentrating on the paper before sliding her a drawing to look at.

“Is this it?” he asked.

She studied the drawing. “It sort of looks like it, but I only glimpsed it.”

His hands clenched on the table.

“What? What is it?” she asked.

He shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

“I do,” she insisted.

He tapped the drawing. “This is a silencer.”

“So?”

“The gun that was used in the assassination last week used a silencer.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she said. “Lots of people use silencers.” She new how absurd that sounded, but she couldn’t remain silence in the face of his accusations.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Liza, come on. You need to face the facts.”

“And what are the facts, Link? That my boyfriend owns a gun I barely glimpsed and that I found a message in my pajamas.”

“One of my girlfriends once broke up with me because I left the toilet seat up in my own bathroom. Yet you won’t turn on this guy when we practically have proof that he’s a murderer. Please tell me the secret to earning that type of devotion.”

Instead of answering she slid out of the booth and stood.

“Liza, wait,” he said, but she didn’t. She turned and walked out of the building and drove home.

 

Liza needed to talk to someone. She couldn’t talk to Dirk because he was part of the problem. She couldn’t talk to Link because he wasn’t objective; he had already made up his mind that Dirk was guilty, and there was no changing it. That left only
Marion
, but Link said she couldn’t tell
Marion
.

“I don’t care,” she said out loud as soon as she let herself in her house.
Marion
was her best friend. If she couldn’t trust her, then she might as well give up on the human race. She pulled out her phone and dialed.


Marion
, I need to talk. How’s tomorrow for you?”

“I’m off tomorrow. Come over.”

“Will Puck be there?”

“No, he’s taking a summer class.” They disconnected without saying goodbye and Liza fell into an immediate and dreamless sleep.

The next morning she felt better. A solid night of sleep often worked wonders to clear her emotional cobwebs. She debated canceling her appointment with
Marion
but decided to keep it. There would probably be more turmoil to come because the ordeal was nowhere near over. She would need
Marion
’s support and advice if she was going to make it through without going insane.

Liza arrived at
Marion
’s doorstep unfed. Inevitably she and Marion ate whenever they talked. There was no need to eat twice today.

“I made coffee cake,” were
Marion
’s first words.

“Oh,” Liza said.
Marion
wasn’t known for her baking skills.

“Okay, I bought it from the store, but I cut it myself.”

Liza relaxed and sat at the table while
Marion
served her a piece of cake. She waited until she had a cup of coffee in her hands to start talking.

“So the FBI agent, Puck’s friend,” she began, but
Marion
interrupted her.

“The jerk.”

“Yes, well, turns out he’s a nice guy. But he also thinks Dirk is an assassin.”

Marion
turned her head to the side and spit her drink of coffee into her napkin. “You’re going to need to back up and start from the beginning.”

And so she did. She started with the day the agent came to her house and finished with last night’s supper and coffee with Link. For a long time
Marion
just sat and blinked without saying anything. Liza finished her cake and retrieved a second piece for each of them.

“I always thought that if one of us dated a murderer, it would be me,”
Marion
said at last.


Marion
, Dirk is not an assassin,” Liza said. “You can’t believe that.”

Marion
focused her gaze on her cake.


Marion
,” Liza exclaimed.

“Look, Liza, if it’s a question of whether or not Dirk could be a cold blooded killer, then, I’m sorry, I would have to say yes. He’s always seemed a little calculating. But if it’s a question of if he
is
an assassin, then I would say no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Being capable of something and being something are two very different things. Dirk is meticulous, methodical, and able to control his emotions. That makes him a good candidate. But I agree with you; he has no motive. There’s no way someone starts killing people to make his car sales empire grow.” She shook her head. “That’s crazy, and Dirk’s not crazy.”

“That’s what I told Link, but he won’t believe me.”

“Link?”

“Agent Stone.”

Marion
studied her as she chewed. “You like him.”

“Yes, I like him. He’s actually very nice.”

“No, I mean you
like
him.”

“I do not,” Liza said. “I have a boyfriend.”

Marion
shrugged. “That doesn’t stop the heart from feeling things. And Dirk isn’t the most attentive boyfriend.”

“Lately he has been.” She told
Marion
about the recent changes in Dirk. She expected her to be impressed, but instead
Marion
bit her lip. She looked worried.

“What?” Liza asked.

“It’s just that his abrupt change is suspicious. I mean, five years he’s practically ignored you and now all of a sudden he’s going for boyfriend of the year. The timing doesn’t look good.”

“But he can’t possibly know he’s being investigated.”

“Unless your house is bugged,”
Marion
said.

“Bugged?” Liza repeated. “You sound like Puck.”

“Sometimes Puck has a point,”
Marion
said. “If someone really is using your house as a drop for messages, then it would stand to reason that they would want to monitor what’s going on.”

Liza rubbed her hand over her eyes. “This is like a nightmare.”

Marion
tapped her fork on her teeth, a sound that usually drove Liza insane. Today she barely noticed it. “How reliable is this Mrs. Jenkins?”

“I don’t know,” Liza said. “I barely know her. She watches me all the time, though.”

“With binoculars?”
Marion
asked.

“I don’t know,” Liza said. “Why does it matter?”

“Because if she saw the guy from far away it could be anyone with dark hair. Maybe she assumed it was Dirk because he looked similar. But if she used binoculars, then chances are good she knows what she’s talking about.”

“That’s a good point,” Liza said. “But how do you tactfully ask your neighbor if she uses binoculars when she spies on you?”

“What’s the point of being tactful? Sounds like she hates you whether you’re polite to her or not. I gave up trying to make my neighbors like me.”

“’Gave up’ implies that you once tried,” Liza said.

Marion
wrinkled her nose. “There was a week in the beginning where I had a chance of winning them over. Then I put out my garden gnome collection and things went downhill from there.”

“I think things went downhill when you decided to start collecting garden gnomes ten years ago. Did you ever think they might be the cause of all your problems?”

“What problems?”
Marion
asked. “Things are good for once.”

“That makes one of us,” Liza said morosely.

Marion
sat back and stared at her. “You want to move in here for awhile?”

Years of friendship were the only thing that allowed Liza to be gracious. “No thanks.”

“I would clear out a bedroom for you and leave it alone for the duration of your stay.”

Liza didn’t point out that every other room in the house would still be covered in mess. As much as she loved
Marion
she would never, ever, ever live with her again.

“You know I appreciate that, Mar, but I don’t want to be run out of my house like I’m the criminal. I didn’t do anything wrong, and I don’t want to leave. Besides, how would I explain that to Dirk?”

“Maybe you should come clean with him and tell him everything up front.”

Liza shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

“Think about it, Liza. If he’s guilty, then he probably already knows you’re suspicious of him. If he’s not guilty, then he would have the chance to clear his name.”

“That’s true,” Liza said. “But Dirk and I don’t talk about normal things, let alone the possibility of him being an assassin. I just don’t see any way for that conversation to go well.”

Marion
shrugged. “So, Sal sounds like a jerk.”

Liza was glad for the topic change. “It was weird, Mar. I wish you had been there. The way he watches me, it’s…abnormal.”

“Maybe he’s one of those competitive guys who always wants what someone else has.”

“Ha,” Liza laughed. “If you had ever seen any of his girlfriends, you would know that’s not it. He wasn’t flirting with me; it was more like he was laughing at me. Like he had an inside joke and was amused at my expense.”

“Maybe he knows Dirk’s secret and he
is
amused at your expense.”

Liza shook her head. “Dirk is not an assassin,” she said emphatically. “I will never believe that, no matter what you or Link might say.”

“Suit yourself, but, Liza, be careful. Even if it’s not Dirk, someone somewhere is an assassin, and he’s been in your house. You have no idea how worried I am now.”

“Whoever it is doesn’t seem to want me harmed, otherwise I would probably be dead by now.”

“Unless he never had reason to harm you before. Now that you’re investigating things…” She let the thought trail off. “Talk to that Jenkins woman again. My guess is she knows more than she’s telling. And find out if she used binoculars.”

Liza nodded. “
Marion
, please don’t say anything to Puck about this. Link was adamant on that point. You know Puck is sometimes…”

“Nuttier than a fruitcake? Yeah, I know. What’s wrong with me that I can’t like a normal guy? I’m always attracted to the crazies. At least this one isn’t a criminal.”

Liza smiled. She wanted to say something uplifting, but since her boyfriend was a suspect in a murder investigation she didn’t have much hope to offer. “I’m glad you’re happy with him.”

Marion
smiled widely. “Best one yet,” she said. “If they keep improving, then someday I might actually find Mr. Right.”

BOOK: The Pajama Affair
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