Pit Perfect, page 7
I hurriedly dressed. “Stay here,” I told Smoosh, as if she had any choice in the matter.
The afternoon sun had burned off a lot of the freshly fallen snow from the night before, and the puddles had created slick spots of ice. I carefully avoided the danger zones as I made my way down to Parker’s driveway.
Nadine Booth saw me first. “Stay put, Lily.”
“What’s going on?”
“Official police business. I can’t discuss it with you.” Though she looked like she’d rather have all the hair tweezed from her head than be in Parker’s drive.
“Are you all searching for more evidence out back?”
“No. The sheriff has enough evidence to take a suspect into custody,” she said cryptically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
About that time, Sheriff Avery and another man in uniform came out the front door with Parker. His hands were cuffed behind his back.
“What the hell?”
“Don’t get involved, Lily. You have no idea what Parker’s capable of, and the evidence supports his arrest.”
I ignored Nadine’s comment. “Parker!”
He looked at me, his eyes glazed with confusion, shock, and anger. “I didn’t do this, Lily.”
Without hesitation, I said, “I know.”
He nodded once, and his shoulders relaxed. “Call my dad. Tell him I need a lawyer.”
Theresa was standing next to me suddenly, her cheeks streaming with tears. “I can’t believe they’ve arrested Parker. There’s no way he would’ve killed anyone—not even Katherine.”
“Can you and the volunteers take care of the shelter until this is straightened out?” Parker had told me he had almost twenty dogs, and they would all need attention.
“Of course we can,” she said. She dabbed at her cheeks with the back of her hand. A young man a few years her junior joined us on the sidelines.
“It’ll be okay, Ther.”
Theresa crossed her arms over her chest and huddled in on herself. “I know, Keith.”
So this was Keith. He was tall with narrow shoulders and bony hips. He had a scruffy beard like Shaggy from Scooby Doo, but his aquamarine eyes and startling dark eyelashes made him attractive. I could see his appeal.
“I have to go to The Rusty Wrench and let Greer know what’s going on.”
The police cars left the yard in a ceremonial parade. Theresa raised her brow at me. “You’ve only been in town a day?”
“Yes.” I didn’t smile. I couldn’t. Not with Parker locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. I believed that to the bottom of my soul. I debated on whether to take Smooshie or not, but her pounding at the apartment door and her excited yips made the call for me. “Do you have a cell phone number?”
“Yep. Let me write down the number for you.” Keith handed her a wadded up grocery receipt, and Theresa grabbed a pen from her purse. “Call me if you hear anything.”
“Definitely,” I said. I took the paper from her and shoved it in my pocket. “Thank you.”
Chapter 9
The Rusty Wrench only had one car out front now, the black SUV. I assumed it was Greer’s own vehicle. Smooshie and I waited at the crossing until it was clear then jogged across the street. My boot slipped on a patch of black ice, and I spent a minute windmilling my arms, trying not to fall on my ass. Smooshie’s leash caught around my wrist, tugging me forward. She barked, and the sound startled me into gaining my balance.
I unwrapped the leash and then patted her on the head. “Thanks, Smoosh.”
She grinned at me, tongue lolling.
“Careful!” I heard Greer shout as he came out of the office door. When I made it to him safely, he said, “The truck’s not ready yet. The part won’t be in until tomorrow.”
I’d run the few blocks to the garage, but I wasn’t winded. Endurance was another benefit of being a Shifter. “I’m not here about the truck, sir.”
“I work for a living, Miss Mason. Please, call me Greer.” He shook his head. “Too many years in the Army. I was a staff sergeant.” He said it as if I should know what he was talking about. “What can I do for you?”
“Parker’s been arrested,” I blurted.
“What?” His rosy complexion paled. “For what? He was doing so much better. I don’t understand. What the heck happened?”
Better than what? I wondered. No time to think about that right now. “Katherine Kapersky was murdered.”
“Land sakes. Someone finally killed that woman?”
“They think Parker did.”
Greer sputtered. “That’s ridiculous. My kid may be a lot of things, but cold-blooded murderer ain’t one of them.”
“He needs a lawyer.”
“Jock Simmons, maybe. He does mostly family law, but he’s the only one I know. His wife works for Parker.”
Ah, Theresa, the cheater. Her marriage to the lawyer didn’t matter. The only important thing was to get Parker represented. “Yes, call him. If nothing else, he can recommend a good criminal attorney.”
The harsh blare of a car horn rattled my Shifter eardrums. The awful sound was immediately followed by someone shouting obscenities. Then I heard the unmistakable noise of a car crash.
Greer and I turned toward the commotion at the same time. Smooshie yanked on her leash.
My boot slipped on an ice patch, and I went down like I’d been zapped by a witch’s fireball. Pain ricocheted up my spine. My pit bull immediately stopped squirming and returned to me, nudging my shoulder.
“I’ll live,” I told her.
“Christ on a cracker,” Greer said. He leaned down and put his arms under my shoulders and hauled me upright. My right butt cheek throbbed.
Now that Smooshie had determined I was okay, she was ready to go check out the car wreck. I noticed that the car was the same black sedan that had nearly run me over the day before. No wonder Smooshie was excited. My girl wanted retribution!
Greer handed me the leash back. “You got this? I’m going to call an ambulance.”
“I’ll check to see if anyone’s hurt.” Carefully, Smooshie and I made our way down to the smashed-up car. The driver-side door opened, and a dark-haired woman swung her legs out. I recognized her from the church. She’d been the one who had gone back to talk to the reverend. I’m sure she had a whole slew of driving sins to confess.
The citizen who’d almost become a hood ornament, a stocky older man wearing earmuffs and a wool scarf, started to help her out.
“Wait!” I shouted. “Don’t let her get out. She could have a neck or back injury from the impact and moving could aggravate it.”
The man raised his hands as if I’d pointed a gun at him. The woman groaned and leaned her shoulder into the backrest of the driver’s side seat.
“Are you a nurse?” he asked, frowning.
“Are you?”
“Well, no.”
“I’m certified in CPR and first aid,” I lied. Technically, I knew enough to get a certification but had never actually taken a course. I’d read a field treatment manual for medics more than a dozen times. Over the years, when my brother Danny had been younger, he’d let me practice some of the techniques, like bandaging wounds, applying tourniquets, stabilizing fractures, and such. I’d gotten pretty good at mummifying him in under sixty seconds.
I knelt in front of the driver. Smooshie sat next to me, sniffing the air. “It’ll be okay,” I told the woman. “An ambulance is on the way.” I detected the scent of formula and talcum powder, suggesting the young woman was a mother. But underneath those pleasant smells was a bitter, sour scent. “Why were you driving so fast?”
She looked at me, her brown eyes clearing as a bit of the shock wore off. “I don’t have to answer your questions.”
Her defensiveness took me by surprise. I’d give her the benefit of the doubt since she’d just tried to wrap her car around a telephone pole, but I already had a bone to pick with her about trying to run me down the day before.
There was an empty car seat in the back. A box of tissue was stuffed near the console. She had a thirty-two-ounce drink in the cup holder. The plastic container was sweating, so I figured ice was still in it. I looked down at her feet. She wore house slippers. Under the bottom of her long coat, the hem of a nightgown peeked out.
This was not the same put-together woman who’d brushed past me the day before. This was a woman in distress. Why would she go for a drive in her pajamas to get a convenience-store soda?
I met her eyes again, the dark circles under them giving me even more concern. “I’m Lily Mason, and that’s Smooshie.”
She flicked a glance at the dog and then gave me a wary stare. “Lacy Evans.”
“Lacy. Is someone home with your baby?”
The stark guilt in her expression told me what I’d already guessed. “I was only going to be gone five minutes,” she said. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. “He’s sleeping. I’m by myself.” She shook her head. “I was only going to be gone five minutes.”
She tried to get up, but I stopped her with my hand on her shoulder.
“Let go. I have to get home!”
“You might be injured, Lacy. You’re in no condition to go anywhere except the hospital. Is there someone I can call? The baby’s father?”
“No!” she answered sharply and immediately. “No father.”
“Okay. Is there someone else?”
She nodded. “My mom. Freda Downing. She works at—”
The sirens wailed in the distance, so I knew the ambulance was almost here. “I know who Freda is. She works for my…cousin. I’ll call Buzz and tell him to send your mom to your house.”
“Thanks.” She blinked up at me. I’d seen that look before. I saw in Lacy Evans a scared girl close to falling to pieces. I’d been that girl. Not for the same reasons. Beyond being a single mother, I had no idea what had pushed Lacy to the edge, but I recognized the hopelessness that she wore like a ratty coat.
The police and the ambulance arrived a minute later. I moved out of the way for the EMTs. Lacy got slightly hysterical as the paramedics worked to get her neck in a brace. While they were handling her, I called Buzz, and he sent Freda to her daughter’s place, and surprisingly, he asked me to come over and work the lunch shift in her place. I’d waitressed a little back home, so it wasn’t a stretch of my talents by any means.
Before leaving the scene, I went to Lacy as they put her on the stretcher and readied her for transport. “Your mom is going to your house. She’ll take care of your son. Don’t worry, okay?”
She was remarkably calm now as she smiled wanly. I think the paramedic had given her a sedative. She crooked her finger, and I leaned in.
“She’s dead, dead, dead,” Lacy singsonged. “Krabby Kapersky. She was a terrible person. Did you know she…” Lacy’s eyes fluttered closed, and her head lolled sideways.
“What? She what?” I shook her shoulders, but the woman was conked out. “Lacy!”
“We’ve got to get her in the ambulance, miss. You can meet your friend at the hospital if you’d like.”
“She’s not my…” The man didn’t care. He just wanted to get on his way. “Okay. Thanks.”
I wondered exactly what Katherine Kapersky had done to make this young woman glad she was dead. And was it enough to turn the single mom into a killer?
Chapter 10
It was twelve-fifteen when I got to the diner. My uncle had me put Smooshie in his office. He provided me with a pan of water and a large hambone for her and gave me an apron. I felt guilty for locking my new friend into a confined space, but given the amount of chewing and drooling inspired by the hambone, I thought she’d be all right. Still, I worried. “I’m not sure leaving her in here is a good plan.”
“She’ll be fine,” Buzz said.
I gave Smooshie kisses on her bumpy head then left and closed the door behind me. I washed my hands and Buzz gave me a guest check pad and a pencil. “The top copy gets hung up for me. The duplicate with the final amount goes to the customer.”
“I’ve taken an order before.”
He cocked his head sideways and gave me a funny look. “I’ve been around humans too long. I know you’re not a kid, but you still look like one.”
I tied the apron around my waist and tucked the pad and pencil in the front pocket. “I forgive you.”
He touched his fingers to the left side of his chest. “Thank heavens.” He laughed. It was easy and kind, so much like my father’s. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“I’m ready, boss.”
He grinned. “Good thing. The place is jumping today. I’m getting people in here I rarely see. Everybody is talking about Katherine Kapersky.”
“Murder has a way of bringing people together, I guess.”
Opal and Pearl, the two elderly ladies from the day before, sat in the back corner booth, which seemed to be their favorite. The booth nearest the door had five teenagers, two girls and three boys. The one behind them was filled with two women in slacks and dressy tops, not fancy enough for a top-level job, but not casual enough for blue collar. I guessed secretaries or bank tellers because of the toner stains on one of the women’s fingers. Besides, they were smiling and laughing. In my experience, people in high-pressure jobs tended to stress no matter where they were. These were women who didn’t have to think about work once they left the office.
An older woman with a gentleman who looked to be about Greer’s age, somewhere in his fifties, sat in the next booth, and behind them, a mother with three small children. There were two empty booths, three empty tables, and no empty stools at the counter. The place really was hopping.
I started with the first booth of teens.
“What can I get you?”
One of the boys, the all-American type with the perfect hair and perfect nose, said, “I’ll have a burger and a side of you, sweetheart.”
I might not have the gist of living with humans, but I knew small-town folks. And Shifters or humans, there were the same.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
He elbowed his friends, smirking. “James Hanley.”
“What would your mama say, James Hanley, if I told her you were disrespecting women?”
He blushed to the roots of his hair. I offered him a look that would melt glass. “You want that burger rare, medium, or well-done?”
“Well-done.” He cleared his throat. “Miss.”
“Fries on the side?”
“Yes.”
“Drink?”
“Coke.”
I gave the next boy a don’t-mess-with-me-or-I’ll-throw-you-in-the-fryer look. “What can I get you?”
“Same,” he said.
The third boy said, “Me too.” The girls just wanted diet sodas and fries.
On my way back to the kitchen window, I overheard All-American Boy say in a quiet voice, “Tell me you saw her eyes. Dude, that freaked me out.”
Oh, crap. My eyes must have partially shifted. Crap. Crap. Crap.
I paused to hear his friends’ responses. None of them had seen what he’d seen. I let go of the breath I was holding. Goddess, I had to be more careful.
“Order, Buzz,” I said at the window. “Burn three with five frog sticks on the side.” I took down five red soda cups from a stack and filled them with ice. I pushed one under regular Coke and the other under the diet fountain. I repeated the step and then finished with the last regular Coke. I loaded a tray and promptly delivered the drinks with a smile. “I’ll be back with your order. Holler if you need anything else.”
I glanced at the still red-faced boy who’d seen my accidental shift. I didn’t know who he was more scared of—his mother or me. He looked away quickly. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be asking me for much.
I followed the process all the way down the line of customers, seating a few new tables as they came in. Buzz peeked his head out once and said, “Looks like you got it under control.”
I smiled. He didn’t say it, but I knew he was impressed, and for some reason, his approval made me happy.
Tom Jones came in around one o’clock with a blonde on his arm. I recognized Bridgette, the soloist from the choir. She clung to the orthodontist’s arm like Scotch tape. When he saw me, he frowned. “You work here?”
I grabbed two laminated menus. “I’m just helping out my cousin today. His waitress had a family emergency.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you.”
“I’m Bridgette Jones,” the woman said, eyeballing me from head to toe. “Tommy’s wife.”
Aww, the wife. “I’m Lily,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”
Tom didn’t elaborate on how we’d met, so I didn’t mention it either. Bridgette had been part of the choir that Katherine Kapersky led. Surely, Tom had told her about the murder. Maybe she was a fragile type?
“Booth or table? I have one of each left.”
Tom looked down at the blonde. She said, “Booth.”
“Right this way.” I seated them in the booth next to Opal and Pearl, who happily chatted about how badly maintained the roads were in town. Pearl said she’d seen two trucks slide around as they went down the street. After witnessing Lacy’s wreck, I agreed with their concerns.
“Thank you,” Bridgette said. “I want a sweet iced tea and a garden salad.”
I jotted down her order. “You got it. What can I get for you, Tom?”
He swallowed hard like a bug had hit the back off his throat. “Uhm, I’ll take a cheeseburger with the works, coffee, and an ice water.”
“Side of fries?”
“Yep.”
I wanted to ask him if he knew more about the case, but he acted like he didn’t want me talking to him in front of his wife. Plus, he’d been so hostile about Parker’s guilt, I wasn’t sure I wanted to discuss the case with him.
The in and out of customers slowed down shortly after one, but the place was still packed. Stools squeaked, catsup glurped, silverware clinked, and people chatted. Most of the gossip was about Katherine Kapersky’s murder.
With all the stations taken care of, I sat at an empty table and rolled silverware, stuffed napkin holders, and topped off empty salt and pepper shakers…and listened.
