“Sure, let me just grab it.” I walked inside with Toby and Emma on my heels. The card was sitting on the kitchen table and I handed it over like it was poison. “Here you go; knock yourself out.”

  He took the card, then tucked it into his pocket where the handkerchief had been. “Don’t worry, Jill. Everything is going to work out just fine. You’ll be fine.”

  I watched him leave and wished I had his confidence, his determination. His faith. And I knew the only way to get myself out of these dumps, besides the ice cream sitting in my freezer, calling my name, was to run.

  I went upstairs to change, and in just a few minutes, Emma and I were on the beach, smelling the salt air, and I felt my shoulders relaxing for the first time that day. Leaving the beach after my run, I saw two women standing outside their cars in the parking lot. One looked familiar, but the second I knew in a heartbeat. It was Tia. We had come up behind the bathrooms on the edge of the lot. I motioned for Emma to sit, and because she was worn out, she actually followed my command. I could kind of make out the voices.

  “I can’t do anything more. The police already have their eye on me. If you want to add more pressure, you’re going to have to find another flunky.” Tia’s voice was loud, and her words carried on the early afternoon day.

  “I’m not asking you to do anything illegal. Just mess with her some more,” the other woman demanded. “My sources say she’s ready to break. And the payout will keep you painting those awful pictures for the rest of your life.”

  Wow, that was harsh. From what I’d seen of her drawing skills, I thought Tia was pretty good. But it was obvious they were talking about me. Who was paying them to upset my life? And the better question was, why? I wanted to go over and confront them, but something held me back. Emma leaned on my leg. She had felt my pull to move and engage too.

  “It’s over, Mother. If you cut me off, well, I might just have to tell that cute deputy about what’s going on.”

  A door slammed, and I glanced around the building to see Tia’s red Mustang peel out from the parking lot, sand kicking up from the tires. The other woman, Tia’s mom, apparently, got into her BMW and followed her out of the lot, although at a slower speed.

  I glanced down at Emma, who was watching me watch them. “So, what was that all about? Do you want to go home and find out?”

  Emma barked her affirmation, but then again, she may have just been saying, Time for a nap, please. I’d been pushing her pretty hard the last few days. Maybe we needed to take a day off running tomorrow. I needed to take a trip into Bakerstown to visit the records department at the courthouse to track down Frank’s ex-wives.

  When I got back to the house, I called Mary.

  “South Cove Bed and Breakfast, may I help you?” Mary’s voice always sounded cheerful and warm. Like you could sit and tell her your troubles while you ate homemade cookies at her kitchen table. I guess that was why her bed and breakfast was always full and had been featured in a regional travel magazine.

  “Hey Mary. I have a question. Actually, two. Any word on when Bill will be back? Has he said anything about the Council letter?” I hated to push the issue, but with the weird stuff going on, this would get at least one issue off my to-do list if Bill could just fix the problem.

  “Sorry, Jill, his dad took a turn for the worse and they’re at the hospital. I didn’t want to bring up Council issues, especially when he feels so bad about not being here to handle the day-to-day work at the bed and breakfast.” Mary sighed. “If I don’t hear a return date by next Saturday, I’ll bring up this whole mess. Maybe he can send Amy a revised letter and have her send it out.”

  Amy. I hadn’t thought of that. I wondered if this Alice had used Amy to send out the original letters. I focused back on the call. Mary sounded tired. “I appreciate whatever you can do. One more question: Do you know anyone who drives a baby-blue BMW?”

  “Besides Alice Carroll from the Council?” Mary answered my question with a question. “She has one that has REALTOR plates.”

  “Wait, Alice Carroll is a Realtor?”

  I heard a door close, and then Mary responded, “Sorry, the mail just arrived. Yes, Alice owns her own agency. California Dreaming Real Estate. She has an office near your place. But it’s upstairs and doesn’t really have a sign. It’s over the building the Glass Slipper is in.”

  Right across the street. Things were either coming together or there were a lot of coincidences going on in South Cove this week. And, somehow, it all focused on my house. “Thanks, Mary. Hey, if you need anything while Bill’s gone, give Greg or me a holler. I can send Deek or Toby over to help.”

  “Aren’t you sweet? That man of yours came over first thing this morning to replace a shower head in one of the guest rooms. I called him yesterday because Bill had talked with Greg before he left town. I feel bad for stealing his time from you. But you’ll be glad to know he got a good breakfast for his trouble.”

  “I bet he loved it. But seriously, don’t feel bad or put off calling. We’re here for you.” I was glad Greg was helping out the Sullivans while Bill was out of town, but I had a feeling it was more to keep busy and keep away from me than from his charitable side.

  I said my goodbyes and put the information about the note on a page labeled “Targeting CBM?” Then I added all the information I knew about the Council letter, down to Tia’s relationship to the woman who’d started the problem in the first place. And what did she mean about the money? Getting Diamond Lille’s set up as the official site for the monthly meetings wasn’t worth much in monetary enhancements. And from what I knew about Lille, she didn’t want the bother of trying to make all the businesses happy. Alice’s statement to Tia didn’t make any sense. I wrote down the sentence “What about the money?” Then I circled it twice.

  I wish I had Greg to bounce these things off, but right now he was too busy solving a murder and helping out Mary. I sighed and closed the notebook. I stared at my dog, who was sleeping in her kitchen dog bed. “Emma, I’m in a mood.”

  She tapped her tail on the ground, as if to say it’s okay Jill. You deserve ice cream.

  So I got up and started a load of laundry first. Then I grabbed a quart of almond vanilla and took it and a spoon to the living room. Then I put in a well-watched DVD of the first Harry Potter movie and started my marathon.

  I only stopped to change discs and heat up a plate filled with chicken tenders for dinner. I’d planned on adding a salad, but it seemed like too much work. I was still on the couch when Greg came in the door at eleven. He greeted Emma while closing and locking the door. Then he came over to the couch and sat down next to me, taking the bag of corn chips from my hand and eating a few.

  “What are you still doing up?” He didn’t look at me; instead, he started watching the movie and eating my chips.

  I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair. “Not sure if I really was awake still. I decided to have a movie marathon and block out the really bad day.”

  “I heard you had a visitor.” He set down the chips and picked up the microwave popcorn bag. He shook it and started eating. I’d only finished about a third of the bag before I’d decided that chips and salsa would be the thing to solve this craving. “And it looks like you’ve eaten every snack in the house.”

  “I didn’t cook the pizza rolls.” Yet, I added to the statement. It had seemed like such a chore a few minutes ago when I grabbed the chips. “You heard about the Realtor?”

  “I was talking about the note at the shop. Wasn’t the Realtor yesterday?” He leaned into the couch and tossed a piece of popcorn to Emma, who promptly caught and swallowed it with one smooth move.

  “It’s kind of a blur. I made you mad, got the visit from the Realtor who wouldn’t take no, and then had the shop thing this morning. Oh, and I watched Tia and Alice fight in the beach parking lot. They said they’d make money if they drove people away from my store.”

  “And how were they going to do that?” He turned to me, but I’d leaned back my head, and the room was starting to spin. I was bone-tired on a sugar high. The high was beginning to wear off. I had to be at the shop way early before any customer even got out of bed so I could outsmart any message leavers tomorrow.

  “I’m not sure. It doesn’t make any sense, but nothing this week does.” I stared at him with blurry eyes. “I love you, Greg King.”

  “Now I know you must be sick.” He reached out to put his hand on my forehead. I slapped it away from me.

  “Seriously, all I wanted to talk about was our future and you pull a crazy disappearing act. Just like the last guy I dated.” My eyelids felt doubly heavy now. My focus was slipping, and I knew I’d be asleep sooner rather than later. “Look, I didn’t mean anything. I wanted to talk about the house and the Miss Emily account.”

  “And we will, but for now, close your eyes and go to sleep.” He pulled me closer, and I nuzzled his neck.

  “I could walk upstairs by myself, but the decision needs to be made now. A couple more minutes of this and I’ll be out,” I mumbled to his chest.

  “It’s fine. I’ll take care of you.”

  The next morning, the smell of bacon cooking downstairs told me the encounter hadn’t been a dream. I hurried downstairs to see Greg at the stove cooking and Emma lying in her bed, watching him. I opened the door and motioned for her to go outside.

  “I already tried that. She went, did her business, then came back to the screen and stood and stared at me. It was creeping me out a little, so I let her inside.” Greg poured me coffee and handed me the cup.

  I closed the door because Emma hadn’t even moved. “She misses you when you’re not here.”

  “I wasn’t gone that long. One night I came home, but couldn’t sleep, so when I got the text from Mary, I headed over there to work on her shower. She really misses Bill. And I think he’s only been out of town a week now.” He lifted the bacon out of the pan, then moved it off the burner and turned off the stove. He sat down at the table. “I need to tell you something. Monday was the anniversary of my first wedding. I had been so full of hope. So optimistic. I knew we were going to be together forever.”

  I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this, but with Greg, sometimes you needed the story before he got to the point. “You should feel like that on your wedding day.”

  “Yeah, but I’d seen the warning signs. Jim tried to talk me out of going to the church that morning. Just take off, he said. I’ll give everyone your apologies.” Greg shook his head. “Jim never liked Sherry. Not one day when I was dating her. Not one day of our marriage. I should have listened.”

  “That doesn’t bode well for us. Jim doesn’t like me either.” I really didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

  Greg chuckled and took my hand. “He doesn’t like the thought of us because of his beliefs about marriage. He likes you. He just believes I should have stuck it out with Sherry, no matter what.”

  “I’m blocking your path to, what, happiness?”

  He shook his head. “He knows my path to happiness is right where I am. He even told me last weekend that he’s never seen me this happy.”

  “And yet, he wants you to reconcile with Sherry?”

  “Yep. And believe me, the irony of what would happen if I did isn’t lost on him. He’s conflicted, which I think is a good thing. He’s been so busy defending the black and white of the discussion, he never considered the gray. He said to tell you hi when I saw him last Saturday. I don’t think I remembered.” Greg brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it. “Look, I know I was distant this week and I’m sorry. I was just trying to work through some things.”

  “About your ex-marriage?” I hadn’t considered that Greg wasn’t upset over what I’d said.

  He leaned back. “Actually, about how I can be different this time around. I want this to be my last marriage when we take the plunge. And I don’t want to screw things up like I did before.”

  “I’ve been thinking about my past too. I guess Amy’s wedding being so close, it’s made me really consider what role I had in blowing up my marriage too.”

  “We really need to learn to communicate better.” Greg stood and went to the stove. “Scrambled eggs and bacon okay?”

  “Sound heavenly.”

  Chapter 9

  As we ate, I filled him in on what I’d uncovered about Frank’s life. “I’m going into Bakerstown to look at the marriage records this afternoon when I get off shift. Do you want to go with me?”

  “No, I’m interviewing the first Mrs. Gleason at one. She’s been unavailable to talk before this. Said she was taking Frank’s death hard.” He gave a small piece of bacon to Emma. “Of course, she did have time to call her attorney and have him accompany her to the interview. Did you find any indication of Frank being well off?”

  “Money? No, but having an inheritance would explain his being able to work for the historical society. Most of those jobs pay as well as a fast-food joint, without the insurance benefits.” I finished the last bite on my plate. “Have you interviewed his coworkers?”

  He nodded. “And one of them was kind enough to give us a full application packet when I asked about the Mission Wall. Apparently, Frank didn’t have the time to change the status of the project before he was killed.”

  “I didn’t think he did.” I narrowed my eyes and gave Greg a hard stare. “You were kidding when you said you were glad I had an alibi, right?”

  “You want to be a suspect?” He looked at me, confusion covering his face.

  “I want you to believe in me so much, you would never even consider putting me on the suspect list. That’s true love.” I rinsed my plate and put it and the silverware into the dishwasher. Eating ice cream out of the container for dinner did one amazing thing for cleanup. There wasn’t any. Well, except for the spoon.

  He came up behind me and put his arms around me. “No, darling. That’s not true love. That’s being an idiot. I’m going to try to get home for dinner. When will you be back from Bakerstown?”

  “Probably about six at the latest. You want me to pick up one of Papa Allen’s take-and-bake pizzas?” I filled my travel mug with coffee and packed my tote, grabbing my keys from the wall hook. I didn’t have time to walk and get there before the first customer arrived. And I needed to make sure there wasn’t another “closed” sign put up.

  “That will work. I can’t stay long, but I want to talk to you about this Council thing. You shouldn’t be getting targeted just because one woman has issues.” He walked me to the door. “I’ll let Emma out again before I leave.”

  I reached up and kissed him. Stroking his face, I smiled. “I’m glad you’re home. I’ve missed you.”

  “Sherry probably wouldn’t have noticed me being gone at all. At least not until her credit card shut down.” He pulled me into a tight hug. “I missed you too.”

  I parked behind the building next to Aunt Jackie’s car. The windows were dusty, as if it hadn’t been driven in a while. Since she and Harrold had gotten back together, they’d been spending a lot of time together. I glanced up at the windows to her apartment. From what I could see, there weren’t any lights on, so I would guess that my aunt was probably across town at Harrold’s. Because my talk with Greg about the house and the money in the Miss Emily fund had gone so well, I decided to leave well enough alone. If and when they made wedding plans would be soon enough to talk about succession plans for the bookstore, just in case.

  I let myself into the store via the back door, turning on lights as I went. I dropped my tote and went into the customer area. I could see the front door from where I stood. No paper plastered on the glass announcing my sins for overcharging the city. But a man stood outside the door, watching the street. I walked up to the door, unlocked it, and then spoke. “Do you need coffee?”

  He must have jumped a foot away from me, turning wildly to see who was behind him. “I’m here to see Miss Gardner? The owner?”

  “You’re speaking to her.” Now I was worried. “How can I help you?”

  “The city has asked me to do a midterm tax assessment on your building. They are concerned that you’ve done some major remodeling since you opened and didn’t get building permits.” He pulled out a piece of paper. “That’s my authorization to do a walk-through of the building.”

  “You have got to be kidding me.” I took the paper he shoved into my hand. “I haven’t done any major improvements, unless you count cleaning the filth out of this place when we first opened.”

  “General cleaning isn’t usually a reason that would add value.” He walked through the dining room. “And the floor and ceiling are original?”

  “Since I bought the place. And I don’t think the owner before me did any work on the building. It had to be the owner before that if they were replaced.”

  I watched as he wrote these statements down. “I’ll have to do some research, but I think you might have visited just after I bought the place.”

  “We usually do.” He glanced at the doors behind the coffee bar. “That the office?”

  “Yes.” I glanced at the clock. “Customers will be arriving any minute. Can we move this along?”

  “May I look into the office?” He stood and matched my stare. Apparently, he didn’t scare easily.

  “Of course,” I gave in. Either he was going to raise my taxes or not. It wouldn’t do to get him angry while he was making the decision. “Can I pour you some coffee?”

  “Black in a travel mug will be fine. I need to be back at my office by eight.” He went into the office and I heard him move around, open the back door, then close it again. Then he came back out to the front. “I’ll send you a letter with my findings, but I’m not sure the woman from the city who called had the correct address. I went through the file last night and I can’t see anything that’s been put in since our original assessment. The only new appliance that probably cost you some money is that cold box in the back, but it’s the same model as before, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”