Deadly Holiday (Georgia Rae Winston Mysteries Book 2) Page 8

  If Cal dumps me, I won’t have to worry about getting him a Christmas gift.

  In case anyone ever wondered why I was still single, such thoughts pretty much summed it all up. The doorbell chimed, Gus woofed, and I took a deep breath before opening the door. “Come in.”

  He followed me past my murder timeline and suspect list on the chalkboard in my dining room and sat on the sofa. “I see you’re hard at work on the case.”

  Gus continued to bark.

  Of course he noticed the chalkboard. “I’ve been spinning a few theories for fun.” I joined him on the opposite end of the couch and could hear Ashley mocking me for leaving a buffer.

  “You’re doing way more than that if tonight’s stakeout is any indication.”

  “We weren’t hurting anyone.” I drew a throw pillow to my chest as Gus let loose a forlorn howl. I really needed to get him to obedience school.

  “What do you plan to do with the information? Confront Doug?” The muscle in his jaw tightened.

  “I don’t know.” Even though I’d known Doug since high school, I wasn’t itching to dig into his personal problems.

  “Well, let me decide for you. Don’t. Do it.” Cal’s eyes darkened. “He deserves privacy.”

  “Is he a suspect?”

  Gus whined.

  “Go let that dog out so we can have this conversation in peace. He doesn’t bother me.”

  I tossed aside the throw pillow and stalked to the utility room. “Bad dog,” I hissed as I opened the crate. So much for letting Gus know who was boss. He bounded past me and skidded out of the room in search of my guest.

  When I made it to the living room, Gus was resting his paws in Cal’s lap while he patted the dog’s head.

  I sat on the couch. “Is Doug a suspect?”

  “He may be involved. Or he may be a man just trying to overcome an addiction. Whatever it is, do you think he wants you poking around in his life?”

  I crossed my arms. “Does it matter if he’s guilty?” I had trouble believing Doug could’ve killed Zach. He’d always been kind to me when we were learning choreography during high school show choir. Dancing was never my strength, and though I did eventually learn the moves, it’d always taken me longer than average. I’d felt comfortable dancing with Doug because he wasn’t a natural either.

  “No. But I’m capable of handling this investigation.” He pinched his lips together.

  “I know. I trust you.”

  With a groan, Gus dropped to the floor next to our feet.

  “Then what’re you doing?”

  I drew my knees to my chest. “I want Zach’s family to have answers. I want to find Olivia.”

  “And since you don’t trust me to do it, you put yourself—and your friends—in danger.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “How is it, Georgia? Imagine my surprise when I stumbled on three beautiful, unarmed women on a stakeout in a less-than-stellar neighborhood. Someone could’ve hurt you.”

  “Brandi was packing heat.” She always carried a gun—except to school.

  A flicker of admiration passed through his expression. “Good.”

  I bit my lip. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

  “No.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “But I care about you and want you to be safe, so please respect me enough to trust me.” He stood.

  Hearing him say he cared eased my uncertainty about our relationship. But. He’d just played the respect card, and unless I wanted to blow my chance, then I’d better back off because there was nothing more fatal to a relationship than a woman who didn’t respect her man.

  I might be a relationship novice, but I knew that much.

  I got up off the couch and followed him to the front door. “I’ll back off. This time I mean it.”

  “Thank you.” He brushed a stray hair out of my eyes. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His tender expression caused my breath to hitch, and my heart thudded as he moved closer.

  This is it. He’s finally going to kiss me.

  Gus wedged himself between us, and I stumbled back, steadying myself against the bench in my foyer. “Sorry.” A giggle-gasp hybrid escaped my throat.

  “No problem.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’d better get going.”

  No! Really, Gus?

  He patted the dog’s head and kissed my cheek. “Sleep well.”

  I locked the door behind him, leaned against it, blew out a breath, and looked at my puppy, who gazed up at me with adoring eyes as his tail thumped against the floor.

  “We’re going to have to have a little talk, buddy.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I don’t know how we’re ever going to be ready for the show,” Ruby wailed as I walked into the church’s greenroom Wednesday afternoon.

  “Why?” I tried not to stare at her eyeliner that was at least an eighth of an inch above her lash line. She needed to add a magnifying mirror to her Christmas list.

  Too bad I didn’t need to get Ruby a present.

  She’d woken me up with a phone call at 7:30 and demanded my presence at an emergency meeting. I’d managed to put her off until afternoon because I’d needed to haul grain to the elevator again that morning while prices were still good.

  “Drama practice was a disaster last night. The angel costume is missing. Doug never showed up. His little Lyla is awful as baby Jesus—can you imagine a sinless baby Jesus with colic?—and the angel can’t seem to remember his lines.” She put her hands on her face. “How hard can it be to announce the savior’s birth? I’ve never made such awful casting decisions. I have too much going on in my life.” She swooned onto the couch. “My judgment is impaired.”

  Lord, give me strength. “How can I help?” I knew I’d regret those words.

  “Will you get my water bottle? Over there.” She flicked her fingers toward her paper-strewn desk.

  I delivered the water. “Have you thought about recasting baby Jesus?”

  Ruby sat up, took a drink, and shook her head so hard her jowls fluttered. “How can you suggest I break the parents’ hearts like that? After conveying such an honor on their family? It would crush Doug, and his wife would hate me for all eternity. Besides, I need them to be Mary and Joseph.”

  As if Doug and his wife didn’t have more important issues to deal with at the moment. But Ruby didn’t know that, and I wasn’t about to spill that secret. “Listen, they might be more understanding than you think. What if you had them use a doll instead of Lyla?”

  “We’ve always had a real baby play Jesus.” She clutched her water bottle as if her life depended on it. “Unless…”

  “What?”

  “Would you talk to Doug about using a doll?” She put the bottle aside and clasped her hands. “He likes you, so he might accept the decision better coming from you.”

  Had Jessica Myers found the silver lining in her broken-leg situation? If not, I’d identified it for her—a reprieve from dealing with Ruby.

  Nice Georgia. “I can talk to him.”

  “That’d be wonderful. You don’t understand the kind of pressure I’m under right now, and with Zach’s death, I’m so burdened. Plus, Carsyn isn’t herself lately.”

  I perched on the couch’s arm. “What’s wrong?” I should hang out a shingle—Georgia Rae Winston, Personal Therapist. I’d learned a thing or two from the counselor who’d been helping me deal with unresolved issues over my daddy’s death.

  “She’s been hanging around with this new man who’s convinced her she doesn’t need her Christian faith. My sweet Carsyn’s up and rejected everything her daddy and I ever taught her.”

  “I’m sorry.” That information truly was worth her dramatics, but after talking to Carsyn, I had a feeling she’d already been well on her way to rejecting Christianity for a while, and the new man had helped her along. “Where’d she meet this guy?”

  “I have no idea. She’s freezing me out of her personal life, so I don’t know much exc
ept he’s older. Would you pray for her—for all of us?” Ruby asked.

  “Of course.” I rested my hand on her shoulder. “I’ll find Doug and see what he says about the doll, and then I’ll search for the angel costume.”

  “Oh, thank you. I’ve been all over the old building looking for that thing, but I must’ve overlooked it. I don’t want to sew another one.” She patted my arm. “You’re such a blessing to me.”

  “I’m glad I can help. Now what about the Rob the Angel situation?”

  “Rob will learn his lines eventually. He’s always been a bit scatterbrained.” She sat up. “But his golden good looks are so angelic, I simply don’t have it in me to recast him. Plus, we’ve already ordered a flying harness that fits him.”

  Rob certainly was hot. Rumor had it a modeling agency had scouted him and offered a contract, but a girl couldn’t always believe what she heard. There’d been whispers around town for years that I was going to move to New York City and try to make it on Broadway. I’d nearly snorted coffee out of my nose when Bobbi Sue Miller had asked for confirmation about that gem of a rumor.

  I left the greenroom and hustled down the back hall to the equipment room where Doug sat with his feet propped up on his desk. A bulletin board held a picture of his family, as well as a photo of Doug holding up a largemouth bass. A calendar with a picture of a snow-capped mountain hung beside the photo. Red X’s marked out dates.

  “Hey, Doug.” I pointed to the picture. “Nice catch.”

  “Thanks. Come on in.” He dropped his feet to the floor and put his turkey sandwich on his desk next to a bottle of Mountain Dew. “Caught that last summer when I went fishing with my buddy Pete Litchfield.”

  From Anchor Recovery Center? Oh sure. Tempt me to ask questions I shouldn’t ask.

  “What brings you by?” He stood.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch.”

  “Naw.” He waved a hand.

  “Well, um.” Why had I let Ruby talk me into this? I tugged my sweatshirt sleeves over my hands. “Ruby has some concerns about how practice went last night—with Lyla.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. Ella filled me in. I couldn’t make it last night. Is Ruby worried about that too?”

  “She’s mostly upset about a colicky Baby Jesus.”

  “I hear you. It’s stressing Ella out too.” He lowered his voice. “She knows how high-strung Ruby is and was beside herself last night that our little one didn’t live up to Ruby’s standards.”

  “How would the two of you feel about using a doll instead?”

  “That’d be a huge relief.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. We’ve had quite a few challenges lately—enough that I’ve thought about dropping out of the program. But we made a commitment and didn’t want to let the church down. There’s already so much upheaval with Zach.”

  I remembered my promise to Cal. Would I be investigating by asking what was wrong? Or would it be normal Christian caring? It would be weird if I didn’t ask, right? “Is everything okay?”

  “It will be.” He studied his hands. “I’ve made some mistakes, and now I have to be a man and deal with them. I don’t want to let Lyla and Ella down.”

  “Good for you.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for taking care of this.”

  “No problem.” At least he hadn’t offered any details that’d make me feel guilty for breaking my promise to Cal.

  “Taking care of what?”

  Cal stood in the hall outside of Doug’s office.

  Chapter Nine

  “Detective Perkins. What can I do for you?” Doug’s forehead creased as he studied Cal. Although Cal wore khaki pants and a button-down shirt instead of a uniform, his imposing presence filled the small room when he stepped through the door.

  “I need to ask you some questions,” Cal said. “Can you spare a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” Doug grabbed the Mountain Dew from his desk and took a long swig.

  Cal turned to me. “I need to see you in the hall first.” He flashed a tight smile at Doug. “I’ll be right back.”

  I waved at Doug. “Catch you later.” I actually managed to sound completely nonchalant in spite of my clenching stomach. Drama Queen Ruby would be proud.

  Cal motioned for me to go through the door first. “Empty classroom on the left.”

  His annoyed tone caused my blood pressure to spike as I entered the room.

  Cal shut the door and stood in front of it. “What’re you doing talking to Doug?”

  Aaannnddd there it was. Why did he have to go and assume the worst? I fixed my gaze on the table that held a basket of dry erase markers and a stack of Bibles. I could use wisdom from the good book right about now. I crossed my arms and stared him down. “Taking care of business for the church Christmas program.”

  “Be specific.”

  “Why?” I narrowed my eyes. “I am not the suspect. Besides, I’ve known Doug since high school, and if I want to have a conversation with him, I will.”

  “Unless you’re hiding something, it shouldn’t be a problem to tell me about the conversation.” His jaw twitched.

  Hiding something? Was he seriously going there? I fought back the naughty words hammering my brain and put my hands on my hips. “You don’t trust me to respect your wishes. You don’t share about your life or concerns. You’ve never even asked me over to your apartment.” I stepped closer. “I’m expected to spill my secrets and open my life and home, but you give nothing back. Why?”

  “Look me in the eyes and tell me you weren’t investigating.”

  Fine. Don’t answer my questions. I locked in on his blue eyes. “I wasn’t. Investigating.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me what you were talking about?” His face reddened.

  “Because I don’t want to.” I lifted my chin. “It has nothing to do with Zach’s murder.”

  “Fine.” He stepped aside and opened the door. “Have a nice day, Ms. Winston.”

  I glared at him. He knew I hated that title. “It’s Miss Winston.”

  As I stormed down the hallway to where the new church connected with the old building, my phone rang. When I saw it was Preston, I groaned but decided to answer in spite of my mood. He and Austin had an annoying habit of refusing to leave messages, and they’d keep calling until I picked up.

  “Hey, Preston.” As soon as I crossed the threshold between the two buildings, a musty smell hit my nostrils.

  “Babe! How’s it going?”

  Ew. It ought to be illegal for stepbrothers to call their stepsisters babe. When Dan wasn’t around, that’s how Preston addressed every woman under age forty—and probably a few over forty.

  “Great.” I’m super excited to be having this conversation.

  “Austy’s here with me.”

  “Hi, sissy,” Austin said.

  Sissy was only slightly better than babe.

  “What’s going on?” I hurried down the creaky stairs. The basement had a large common room surrounded by classrooms. A piano stood next to a shelf holding the yellow hymn books we’d used when I was a kid.

  “Dad and Jill have been talking about getting a tandem bike, so Austin and I thought that you, Dakota, Stella, Mak, and the two of us could go in together and get one for Christmas. Unless you already have a gift. But everybody else is on board, so if you say no, you’ll be the family loser.”

  The morons had come up with a decent idea for once. Though the idea of Mom and Dan zipping around on a tandem bike was puke inducing. “I don’t have a gift, so I’m in.”

  I walked across the room and opened the first of two closets. Since it was empty, except for a few hangers, it was clear Ruby hadn’t missed anything.

  “Cool. The bikes aren’t cheap, and we want to get them the best out there. Otherwise, Dad’ll return it.”

  “Try to find a sale.” I opened the other door, revealing a row of our old cream-colored choir robes.

  “You’d better come with us, babe,
” Preston said. “I don’t trust us to meet your standards.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m kind of busy and—”

  “Do you believe that, Austy? She’s trying to ditch us.”

  “Typical,” Austin said.

  “What about Dakota?” I began sliding each robe aside, and after I’d passed five or six, I found the angel’s tunic.

  “Your bro’s swamped at work. And Mak’s got finals coming up. Nope. It’s just us three amigos.”

  I gritted my teeth and rested my hand on the costume. Why did Dakota get a free pass? It wasn’t even tax season yet. “When should I meet you?” Surely, I could endure half an hour with them.

  “What’re you doing tonight?”

  Other than my usual stop at Pizza Heaven for Wednesday Night Wings, I didn’t have a good excuse.

  “I’ll bet she has a date with that cop she’s seeing,” Austin stage-whispered.

  “I’m free tonight.” Better to get bike selection over with. I yanked the tunic off the hanger, and the material emitted a floral fabric softener scent.

  “Are things not going well with your boyfriend, babe? Do you want to talk to your favorite stepbrothers about it?”

  I slammed the closet door. Guys like these Twin Idiots had radar for when they’d be optimally annoying. How else could I possibly explain their lousy timing? “What time. Should I meet you?”

  “She’s dodging your question, Presty. That’s never a good sign.”

  My blood pressure spiked. They’d better be glad this conversation wasn’t taking place in person because I was fairly certain I could’ve strung them up in a way that’d leave them with a childless future. “How about seven?” I curled my fingers into a fist but kept my tone light.

  “Works for us. Meet us at Silver’s Bike Emporium in Richardville.”

  “Fine. See you tonight.” I disconnected, and with a growl, I shoved my phone in my pocket. As I folded the costume over my arm, a faint scratch-scratch sound came from somewhere nearby.

  Mice.

  I yelped, sprinted for the stairs, and didn’t stop running until I was safely in the new building. I leaned against the wall and tried to catch my breath as a childhood memory resurfaced.