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Mrs. Fix It Mysteries: The Complete 15-Books Cozy Mystery Series Page 6


  “None of your business. I’m going now, Kate. Goodbye.”

  He left her standing in the hall. Still, Kate had a little more information, and now she wanted to know who had lost money because of Jackie’s deal. Maybe Scott knew. Was he married to her then?

  The list of suspects just got longer. Too bad she didn’t know exactly who was on that list. She would ask Scott. She did need to put another coat on that wall. It hadn’t been dry when she left.

  Even if he did know, would he tell her? She frowned. She drove to the bank pondering what Ken had said. If people had lost savings because of Jackie, they would be mad. But who would have access to Scott’s house that was on that list?

  Ken might. Who else? Kate had to admit she was more puzzled than ever. If she got that list, she’d have some idea who to talk to. Maybe the mayor had invested, but he just put that addition on his house. He couldn’t be hurting for money.

  It made sense to plant Jackie’s body in Scott’s house, but Kate didn’t know if Jackie had actually been killed where she’d been found. That was another question for Scott.

  Once at the bank, she deposited the check Scott had given her earlier. She debated seeing Scott again so soon. He might try to talk her into dinner.

  Maybe she should eat with him to pick his brain. That decided, she climbed into her truck.

  ***

  Kate paused in front of Scott’s door. She heard the chords of an electric guitar. Guess he’s been jamming. For a moment, she was transported back to high school. Besides his souped-up car and black leather jacket, Kate had also been drawn to Scott because he had played guitar. His cool factor was high, and as an awkward high schooler, that had appealed to her. She’d always wondered what it was about her that had attracted him.

  She listened for a moment. She wasn’t musical. She couldn’t sing or play an instrument, so Kate was always impressed when someone could do either or both. Putting a hand on his door, she took in the passion with which he played.

  It came through even though she stood outside. She absorbed the notes even if she didn’t recognize the song. Some part of her had missed that sort of passion—that sort of connection to someone else.

  Her husband hadn’t been musical, either. He could play guitar, but not with the same mastery. Damn.

  She had to stop waxing sentimental whenever Scott was around. She had a job to finish.

  She rang the doorbell and the music cut off abruptly. A moment later, Scott opened the door. He wore cutoffs, a T-shirt and a broad grin. His feet were bare. How did he dress so casually and look so good? Damn him.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi, I just wanted to check on that spot to see if it needed a second coat.”

  He stepped back, letting her in.

  She eyed her handiwork. She couldn’t even tell where she’d done the patch. “No second coat needed.”

  “You want to stay for dinner?”

  She looked up at him, his soft brown eyes pleading with her. This was a gentler side of him. As a teen he’d been in command. Not that she’d let him roll over her, but if she didn’t care, then he would choose. He’d been in charge in bed, but he was good at it so she let him.

  She sighed. “Only because I know my cupboard is bare will I agree.”

  The twinkle returned to his eyes as another grin broke out on his face. “Not my sparkling personality?”

  “Sorry, it’s your full refrigerator. And I have some questions.”

  “I’ll take it. Follow me.”

  He led her back to the kitchen where she’d found the body. For a moment, she hesitated on the threshold. She could still see the woman’s dead eyes staring up at her.

  “Why don’t you go out on the deck? I’ll bring you a beer.”

  She nodded. When she was settled into a lawn chair, Scott brought her a beer. He touched his bottle to hers. She sipped the amber liquid. It cut the dust in her throat.

  Scott sat on a chair next to her. His yard was wild, with random shrubs growing and weeds in all of the beds.

  “I haven’t figured out what I want to do with the yard. Didn’t think I’d have time once I started the job,” he said.

  “It takes time to get a new house in order. I bet your office is in order, because that was more important,” she said.

  He nodded, taking a swig of his beer. She watched him swallow then looked away. No mooning over Scott. This is business.

  “How long were you and Jackie divorced?”

  “Five years.”

  “Did you even know she was in Rock Ridge?”

  “No. We haven’t really communicated since we signed the papers. I had no reason to talk to her. We no longer had a connection: no kids to quibble over; the property she had brought to the marriage.”

  “So you lived on your own the past five years?”

  He smiled. “Yes, on my own. It was refreshing after life with Jackie. She was high-powered and successful. Always on the phone. Always looking for the next big deal.”

  “Which leads me to the fact that several people in town made a deal with her that went south. It was around the time of your divorce it would seem. Do you think that deal might have led to her death.”

  Scott’s smile dimmed. “Here I thought you were asking me about Jackie because you were making sure I had no feelings for her. Instead, you’re investigating this murder even though I warned you to stay away.”

  “I can’t. I have it in my brain that I need to do this. It gives me something to occupy my mind.”

  “I’ve offered to be what occupies you, and your brain,” Scott said. He looked her over. “And your body.”

  She pointed to the white line where her wedding ring usually sat. “I don’t wear it when I’m working for safety reasons, but I’m still married, Scott.”

  “To a man who left you with no note? Fell off the face of the earth one day?”

  So he had read the report. She wasn’t surprised. She leaned her head on the back of the chair. “I’ve received no divorce papers. No sightings of him anywhere. No body either. Until one of those things happens, I am still married.”

  “You can declare him legally dead.”

  “That takes seven years. It’s only been five.”

  “So you’re going to wait for the seven years and live your life as if you’re married, instead of petitioning the court to do it sooner?” Scott said.

  She waved a hand. “You have made it clear you have a personal interest in this case. You don’t have any credibility in this matter.”

  “Then let me look for him.”

  She glanced over at him. He was so cocky. “Why do you think that you can find him when everyone else has failed thus far?”

  And she did mean everyone. She’d looked. The cops had looked. The FBI had looked. She’d even hired a professional investigator who found nothing. Greg Flaherty might as well have never existed. He no longer had a footprint on this planet.

  “Because I have that personal interest.”

  “I don’t get it, Scott. We were together years ago. Why am I so important?”

  He glanced down at his beer, the first sign of insecurity he’d shown her. “You just are. Let me look for him.”

  “Fine. Do what you want. I won’t stand in your way. What will you do if you find him alive?”

  “I think the bigger question is: what will you do?”

  She snorted. “You won’t find him.”

  “We’ll see about that. What will I do? Make him give you a proper divorce so you can move on.”

  “Doesn’t guarantee that I’ll move on with you,” she said.

  He sipped his beer, and then said, “I’ll take my chances.”

  Not to be distracted, she went back to the topic she wanted to discuss. “Back to Jackie. Do you know who went in on that deal with her?”

  He sighed. “You really aren’t going to let this go.”

  “Nope, so you might as well help me.”

  “I can’t as long as I am chief. But y
ou should tell me about anything you find out.”

  “Of course, I will.”

  She might tell Scott but she probably wouldn’t tell Ken. He had his mind set already.

  “I can probably find out who was in on that deal, but I wasn’t part of it. She did that deal when we were in the midst of the divorce.”

  “Did she lose a lot of money?” Kate asked.

  Kate was sure that the key to Jackie’s murder was a bad business deal. If someone had lost their savings, they’d be livid. That might have been the first opportunity the murderer had to be with her alone. And they could have been taking advantage of a small town police force that had little experience with investigating a murder.

  In the big city, they would have a greater risk of being discovered, but not in Rock Ridge—a town that usually brought in the state police for the bigger crimes, and by the time they arrived, the scene could be compromised. This led Kate to the matter of why Ken hadn’t brought them in. Or maybe he had, and he just hadn’t told her.

  “Probably, but Jackie was like a cat. She always landed on her feet,” Scott answered.

  Kate mulled that over. Maybe Jackie had in the past, but she’d pissed someone off enough to kill her.

  Her nine lives had run out.

  Chapter Seven

  Kate’s first job of the day was to return to the mayor’s house. She had to put a second coat on the new addition. She also wanted to snoop in his office to see if she could find out who had lost money in that bad deal with Jackie.

  She was convinced that was the reason for Jackie’s murder. Since she was having no luck figuring out who could have had opportunity, she chose to focus on who had motive and then work backwards.

  Jessica was dressed in slacks and a blouse when Kate arrived. The mayor’s wife was visible and involved in many things, so Kate assumed she had to look good. Her appearance and behavior reflected on the mayor.

  It seemed to be working as he kept getting reelected. Jessica had the perfect temperament for a politician’s wife. She was lovely, but not enticing, congenial, but not a pushover. She could make anyone feel at ease.

  “Oh, you’re here today?” Jessica said, letting her in. “I have a meeting for my charity association in half an hour. If I gave you the key, would you lock the door when you go out? You can leave the key in the mailbox.”

  Not safe, but whatever Jessica wanted. “Sure, I’ll just need payment before I go.”

  “Do you take credit cards?”

  That was next on her business agenda. “Not yet. I’m working on that swiping thing for my phone, but it hasn’t come through yet.”

  Jessica bit her lip. “Okay, I’ll write you a check before I go.”

  Kate unloaded her truck and set to work painting. With Jessica out of the house, she could snoop in Dudley’s office. It went against her ethics as a tradesperson entering a home, but she considered these desperate times. Ken probably hadn’t even interviewed the mayor since they were buddies from way back.

  Kate poured the lime-green paint into a tray with a liner. It meant easier cleanup at the end. The color still made her cringe, but this wasn’t her house. She used a small roller around the edges then the big roller to fill in. She’d opened a window and a breeze blew in, meaning the paint would dry quickly.

  She never liked painting in the summer unless the client had air conditioning. Otherwise, the humidity in the outside air slowed down the drying process.

  Jessica showed up when Kate was halfway through the first wall. She had a pen and a check in her hand. “How much do I owe you?”

  Kate rested the roller in the pan, wiped her hands, and then fished into her toolbox for the invoice she’d written up. She handed it to Jessica and the woman studied it then wrote the check, leaning against one of the unpainted walls.

  Kate jammed the check into her back pocket, mentally calculating how the check would be divided to meet her growing expenses. Some would go to repair her truck. She’d get one thing done on it and hopefully that would help her poor vehicle limp along for another few months.

  “I’m going out. The key is on the table by the front door. Thanks for locking up after yourself.”

  Kate nodded then went back to work. She heard the garage door open, then close. She finished the rest of the walls. She expected they wouldn’t need a third coat.

  The painting done, she left her stuff in the room in case there was any question of why she was still in the house.

  The mayor’s office wasn’t locked. Kate’s heart fluttered. She’d always been the good girl: she rarely went over the speed limit, she hadn’t cheated on her husband, and she didn’t even pull the tag off her mattress until it had passed the warranty period.

  The craziest thing she’d done in her life was have sex in Scott’s car when they were teens. Even then she’d felt a little remorse about it.

  Standing in that office, Kate knew she was crossing a line, but this was important. She’d taught her sons that the end didn’t justify the means, and she was now glad they couldn’t see where she was.

  Enough remorse. She could beat herself up later. She opened all the drawers in the mayor’s desk and didn’t find anything. She then turned to the file cabinet behind her. Most of the files were for his business, but one, way in the back, had a familiar name on it.

  She tugged out the folder marked” Jackie York.” Before she could open it, however, she heard the garage door again. “Crap.”

  She closed up the folder and only debated for a second. She left the office with it, closing the door behind her. She tucked it into her toolbox, and then began her clean-up procedures. She was pouring paint back into the can when Jessica swung by.

  “Forgot something,” she said, breezing past the room.

  Kate hoped Jessica would be gone before she had to leave, so she could peruse the file and put it back. No such luck.

  Kate left the mayor’s house with the folder in her toolbox. Her gaze darted around as she drove to her next job. She was becoming paranoid that someone knew she had stolen something. She drove slower than usual, careful not to break any laws.

  All she wanted to do was read the file and then return it. She bit her lip as she drove down Main Street, worrying about how she was going to return it. She had no reason to get back into the mayor’s house.

  She parked her truck at her next job, a shutter repair. It had fallen off the house in a recent storm. Kate would go around and make sure all of the shutters were secure before she left.

  The homeowner, Hazel Millhouse, knocked on her window. She was a sweet older lady whose husband had passed away a year before. He’d been handy, but had been getting up in years when he died.

  Kate figured Hazel had her on speed dial. It seemed as if she fixed something at Hazel’s house once a week. The woman was probably her best customer.

  “You okay?” Hazel said.

  Kate opened her door as Hazel’s little dog yipped at their feet. She bent down to scratch the dog under the chin. “I’m okay. Just a lot on my mind.”

  “Right, what with Scott being accused of murder and all.”

  Kate resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Why is everyone so sure Scott and I are an item?

  “Something like that.”

  The folder called to her, but this woman was a priority. She might even have Kate change a light bulb or two while she was here. A visit to Hazel’s house was never a quick one.

  “Let me get to that shutter.”

  “It’s around front.”

  The shutters were painted a dark green and probably could use a fresh coat or two of paint. Hazel had a fixed income, so Kate didn’t suggest it. She wasn’t going to gouge the sweet old woman.

  This was a good karma job. She never charged her much, and in fact, Kate would lose money on this transaction, but she gained good karma points for helping out an old lady. It all balanced out in the end.

  The shutter only needed some new screws. Kate had just bought some that wouldn’t rust
, so she replaced the screws on all of the shutters as Hazel talked about her hip that needed to be replaced.

  “What is wrong with Rock Ridge that we have a murder? I locked my house last night. Haven’t done that in years. Not since there had been a string of burglaries on the street. Ended up being kids.”

  “I remember that. Yes, Greg had put another lock on our door, too.”

  Well, actually she’d done it, but Greg had insisted that it be done.

  “Oh. I’m so sorry about your husband, Kate. Any news?”

  Most of the town skirted around the issue with her. Hazel wasn’t that way. “Nothing. No trace of him.”

  “You need to move on with your life, Kate. You deserve to be happy.”

  “That’s sweet, Hazel. Thank you.”

  For the rest of the conversation, Kate murmured at the appropriate times, but her mind was on that file. Of all the people the mayor dealt with in his jobs, why would he have a specific file only for her?

  It would probably make sense when she read it.

  ***

  Kate had just pulled into her driveway when Scott called. Her house sat at the end of a winding driveway in a clearing among trees. Since she didn’t like to talk as she drove, she stopped the truck at the foot of the drive.

  Kate had wanted to live closer to town so the boys had playmates in the neighborhood. Greg had insisted he liked being out in the country. He wanted the boys to be able to hike and fish with no one to bother them. Greg had won that argument in the end.

  As it turned out, her boys never cared for hiking or fishing, but they’d never moved out of this house. Kate wasn’t ready to move from the home she had made for them. She didn’t want Greg to come back and find them gone.

  “Hello.”

  What flirting will he try tonight? Kate worried that fatigue might cause her to fall for his charms even though she’d made it clear the other night that they were friends and nothing more.

  “Kate, good news.”

  “You’ve found the love of your life and you’re going to stop flirting with me?”

  He chuckled. Any other man would be insulted. Not Scott. He was too sure of himself. “Funny. No, the autopsy came back. I have an alibi for the time of death. Not only do I have an alibi, but those who saw me were cops.”