Page 28 of Fortune’s Control (Fortune’s Creek #1)
I wiggled my toes to better admire the coral-pink polish.
“So Detective Moore is a giant-sized stupid head with a stupid face and stupid opinions? Next time, pull the I’m just a girl routine,” Emma said.
“What routine is that?” I tested the polish, judged it dry enough, and crossed my legs under me. The blue dress skirt hid most of both.
“Oh, you know the one.” She raised her voice several octaves. “I don’t understand. Can you explain? I still don’t get it. Gee, this is so complicated.” Her voice assumed its usual tone by the end. “The gross sexist inside of him always comes out by the end.”
Shane kicked the two detectives out before they had a chance. I spent that interview doubting my memory and myself. “Does that work?”
“They get angry, which makes it so much better.”
“I’ll try it next time.” Sophie was with me during the attack, and both detectives still believed I made it up.
“You think they have the wrong guy?”
“I think…” Hesitation struck. The man in the gray sedan was the same man who killed Sandy Cooper.
Physical evidence and other witnesses placed Wilson Skane at the scene, and he had no alibi.
As Detective Davis pointed out, my inability to recognize him in a line-up didn’t matter when compared to the rest of it.
All I had was a strange instinct. “I think I don’t trust myself very much. ”
“Delilah Mayberry.” Emma gave a loud, commiserating sigh. “That’s your mother speaking. Don’t listen to her.”
Her loud voice made it difficult not to hear. “I check the Internet sometimes.”
“For what?”
“Other crimes. Murders. I check the local news to see if any young women were killed in other places besides Atlanta.”
“Are there?”
I stare down at my open laptop. Sitting under an oak, in one of Shane’s chairs, with the sun’s rays seeping through the branches, I could pretend none of it happened. Almost. “Not so far. I check almost every day.”
“Have you told Shane?”
“That I obsess over an imagined killer? No.”
“Okay, I’ll be straight with you, in your face and blunt. You need to tell him that. He needs to know.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Lilah, your instincts are screaming at you. Listen to them. Stop doubting yourself right the heck now.”
I glanced over at Shane’s woodshop. He was busy and unaware of our conversation. He saved me from yesterday’s catastrophe of an interview to protect me, not because he believed there were two killers. “I will.”
“Please. You know the best part of working for my parents?”
“The job guarantee?”
“No. I mean, yes. Also, plenty of time off. Tell Shane tonight, or I’m driving back down there to tell him myself, and you know how much I hate driving.”
Aiden drove up in his old truck with his father in the passenger seat .
“Aiden is here. Do you want to say hello?” Perfect distraction and perfectly timed.
“First, absolutely not. Second, my threat is real. I will drive down there.”
“I’ll tell him. Tonight.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.” Aiden approached and stood over my laptop. I snapped it shut. “He’s here. Do you want me to pass along a message?”
“To the town’s oldest twelve-year-old?” Emma asked.
“Who are you talking to?” Aiden asked.
“Emma. My friend. Do you want me to pass along a message?”
She shrieked over the phone.
Aiden’s eyes shone at hearing it. “Tell her I’m flattered. Also, tell her I’m free this weekend and want to buy her a drink.”
“Tell him to grow up and take responsibility. Life isn’t a joke. It’s work,” Emma said.
My eyes bulged. “I can’t tell him that.”
“Tell me what?” Aiden asked.
Panic set in. “She has a boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Aiden tipped an imaginary hat towards me. “Then tell her I’ll be waiting when she dumps him. See you inside.”
“I owe you,” Emma said after I let her know he was gone.
“It was the best way to get him to leave you alone.”
“See. Trust your instincts and stay safe down there. Listen to them. Also, don’t go anywhere alone.”
“I won’t. Love you. ”
“Love you, too.”
Our call ended, and I stared at the phone, willing myself to call Sarah Jane.
Call and tell her what? I replaced unemployment with volunteer work?
My repeated efforts to obtain an annulment were unsuccessful, and my mysterious grandmother lived in Fortune’s Creek, and I was too big a coward to find her.
The woodshop’s door opened, and Sam Taggert exited. He walked past with a polite nod. “See you inside. Is Sophie still here?”
“Sophie doesn’t leave until tomorrow. She was in the kitchen the last time I checked.” I rose and set my laptop on the chair.
*****
Frozen air blasted me. “How do you manage this? You need a winter coat and gloves in here.”
Shane chuckled. “I don’t have those.”
I approached and leaned on his workbench. “Is that glue?”
“Wood glue. What’s horrible about it?” He noticed my wrinkled forehead.
“It feels like cheating. What are you making?”
Shane’s lips flattened before he said, “Something small. For the cat.”
“For Pirate? What else could the world’s most perfect kitty need?”
“The world’s most perfect kitty scratched my arm.” Shane showed off two thin scrapes on his wrist. “She needs to walk the plank, but if you must know, it’s another new bed.”
“But she already has one downstairs.” Downstairs in the family room. She napped in it every day .
“Exactly. I don’t want a cat in my bed. Her purrs wake me up, and she slept on my face last night.”
“That’s affection.”
“That’s torture. Also, I’m dropping a few things off at Pete’s gallery once Jack gets here. He’s going with.”
My lips pulled into a half-smile at his deliberate change of subject. “I’m meeting with Sam and Sophie about our funding project. They’re waiting for me.” I should tell him about my paranoid search habit. “Do you want to watch a movie tonight?”
“Is that what the kids call it these days?”
“I was being serious. An actual movie.”
“An actual movie. I’ll pick up ice cream at the store for dessert.” He leaned across the worktable to kiss me.
Why bring up something miserable when there was ice cream and Shane’s kisses instead? “Chocolate ice cream. Shane, can I ask you a question?”
“Yes, of course.” Shane came around the worktable to hold me. “I’ll tell you if I know the answer. But hurry and ask, because you have me worried.”
“Do you believe me? The man who tried to run us over killed Sandy Cooper, even though the police insist Wilson Skane was in Atlanta the entire time?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I believe you.”
Relief filled me. “Would you believe me if I said they have the wrong guy?”
“Yes, I would believe you then.”
“Even without evidence?”
“Even without evidence, I believe you.”
Jack opened the door, like he hoped to catch us in the act. “Oh. I thought you two might…” He whistled rather than explain.
“We’ll talk about this tonight,” he promised.
We kissed goodbye, and I left the woodshop.
“He believed you, Delilah Mayberry.” What would my mother say? “You’d better find evidence before something else happens.”
*****
The conversation between Sam and Sophie stopped when I entered the kitchen. “Did I interrupt?”
Sophie spoke first. “Minor chit-chat. Nothing important.”
I poured a glass of tea and took a chair beside her.
“Should we get started? I built spreadsheets breaking down the five-year costs based on your proposals.” I rubbed my hands together.
This project allowed me to use my job skills once more, and I missed it.
“The next section is more scarce. It’s projected revenue based on your input and interviews with two local store owners. ”
Aiden raised his hands. “That was me. I was one.”
Pete was the other. “Today’s goal is to review the numbers so I can complete the grant proposal.” The two other meeting attendees blinked at me. “What did I say?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Sophie picked up one of my printouts. “These are tax tables.”
“The best kind of tables. What am I missing?”
“These are tax tables,” Sophie repeated, as if that made her point clearer.
Sam removed his worn-out fisherman’s hat to scratch a pile of unruly white hair. “We’ll need someone to manage this effort, assuming it goes through.”
“That’s why we have Sophie.” I grinned at her. It’d give her a reason to move home again, which she clearly wanted. Her relationship with Shane still needed improvement, and this would help.