Love and Suspicion Page 6

  “Well, I was Earl’s housekeeper the day the baby got taken. I never heard a sound, but there are some who think I had something to do with it, especially the sheriff. I didn’t, and he can’t prove I did, but some...”

  “I understand.”

  “You still want the job?”

  Tiffany smiled and nodded. “I do.”

  Mariam let out a sigh of relief. “Great. All those books in the window need to be put on the shelves somehow. I expect you should get familiar with how things are arranged first, though it doesn’t really matter that much. We’re not a library and no one is going to be looking by ISBN numbers. Even so, I do try to keep them organized alphabetical by author.”

  “Got it,” said Tiffany. Now that Mariam was her boss, Tiffany decided she should say something. “There’s a price tag on your butt.”

  Mariam gasped, “Oh dear, I must have sat on one.” She twisted the top half of her body so she could look, spotted the tag and pulled it off her skirt. “Thank you.” Mariam looked at the price on the sticky tag and then rolled her eyes. “I’ve been looking everywhere for this. No wonder I couldn’t find it. It goes on the most expensive book in the shop, which is a collection of old maps. I suspect that collection might be worth something someday, and I mean to get my share off the top.” Mariam reached under the counter, pulled out a large book and pressed the sticky part of the $199.00 price tag on the front. “There, that should do it.”

  “You want me to put it in the window? Maybe someone will see it and buy it.”

  “Yes I do, you put it right in the window while I go next door and get Harold to make a second key for you. I’m hoping you can lock up at night. I get tired earlier in the day than I used to.” She grabbed her purse, but before she made it out the door, the old fashioned princess telephone on the counter rang, Mariam immediately picked it up. “Just...” the caller on the other end didn’t give Mariam time to complete her sentence. “Now? He’s headed into the Sheriff’s office now?” The store manager hung her head. “It is times like these I regret never going into law enforcement.” She put her hand over the transmitter and whispered to Tiffany, “Michael is furious, but who wouldn’t be?”

  The bookstore, Tiffany noticed, had no computer set up to display Michael’s billboard, which would likely show someone climbing up to change the 50% back to 100% any time now. She regretted not being able to watch that, but oh well.

  WITH GREAT INTEREST, Earl Woodbury watched his son recklessly pull into a diagonal parking place, slam on his brakes, and yank the driver’s side door of his red sports car open. Wasting no time, Michael stomped across the sidewalk and entered the door to the Sheriff’s office.

  When Michael was in a mood like the one plainly on his face just now, even Millie knew better than to laugh. She got up, approached her side of the counter and sweetly said, “May I help you, Mr. Woodbury?”

  “I doubt it,” Michael grumbled. “Where’s the sheriff!”

  It was obvious he had been madly running his fingers through his hair and didn’t bother to comb it – both sides were ruffled and out of place with an odd curl hanging down the middle of his forehead. Even then, Millie didn’t so much as smile. “In his office. Shall I ask if he will see you?”

  “Oh, he’ll see me alright.”

  Just as Michael headed to the back, Sheriff Pierce came out of his office. “Forget it Michael, I’m not going to arrest Jerry Terrell over something as little as making a slight change to one, or perhaps two letters on your billboard.”

  “It’s defamation of character,” Michael insisted.

  “So get a lawyer and take him to court. You’ve been itching to do that for weeks now anyway.”

  “If you don’t arrest him, I swear I’ll have your job.”

  “On most days,” Otis nonchalantly said, “you’d be welcome to it. Unfortunately, you don’t pay my salary, the county does.”

  “And because we have a stupid Mayor, the Woodbury Tile Company pays half the county’s taxes.”

  The sheriff put a hand on Michael’s back and started urging him toward the door. “I don’t doubt that.”

  “So you refuse to do anything?”

  “I could have another talk with Jerry if you like, but then when you get even, I’ll have to waste my time having a little talk with you too. Maybe it’s time for the two of you to bury the hatchet before somebody gets hurt.”

  Michael huffed and walked out the door.

  “Might have to arrest that kid someday,” the sheriff mumbled as he watched Michael get in his car and nearly hit another car getting out of the parking lot.

  Millie burst out laughing. Across the street, Earl just shook his head.

  TIFFANY COULDN’T EVEN guess how it could take an hour to go next door and have a key made, but in Mariam’s case it did. That wasn’t all, when she returned Mariam had the answer to Tiffany’s most pressing Michael question – what happened at Birdie’s the night before.

  “Really?” Tiffany gasped. “Three ex-wives?”

  “And hopefully the last. If Michael was smart, he would marry Pamela again and keep her forever, but about some things Michael is just not that smart.”

  Mariam approved of the new display in her window, picked up her dust rag, started to take the books off a nearby shelf one at a time, and gave each a thorough cleaning. “Well, it’s not like anyone expected his third marriage to work out any better than the first two. It’s sad when you think about it. Michael just can’t seem to get his slice of happiness, no matter what he does.”

  “He must like being married, though.”

  “Some men just can’t stand the loneliness, I guess.”

  MARIAM WAITED ALL DAY to hear what happened when Michael stormed into the Sheriff’s office, but none of her usual sources were there at the time, and Millie could always be counted on to keep her mouth shut. At around five in the afternoon, Mariam showed Tiffany how to close up and then left for the day.

  Running the register was easy, once Mariam showed Tiffany how. Several customers came in that evening to pick up a book or two, with the inevitable questions for the town’s newest arrival. Patiently, she answered the ones concerning where she was from and how long she intended to stay, but when the questions got more personal, she expertly changed the subject.

  Before she knew it, it was closing time. Tiffany’s first day at her new part-time job lasted several hours longer than she anticipated, and by the time she closed at seven, she was exhausted.

  On her way back to the hotel, she took a seat next to Earl on his bench, and once more watched the beat up blue pickup truck slowly drive by. “That’s Crazy Eddie, they tell me,” she said. “There’s a guy back home just about as crazy. I like the one back home, but then I like almost everybody. I don’t like Molly First though. She’s two years older than me and takes her last name far too literally. She’s the immaculate dresser type. You know, the kind that wears the most expensive clothes and only shops at exclusive Boston boutiques. She wears high heels even with blue jeans too. Molly is just a showoff. Of course, it’s her father’s money she shows off. I bet she spends more on a pair of shoes than most people spend on groceries each month.

  Tiffany paused to watch a couple of kids play ball in the park. “Mr. Woodbury, I have a question. Would you say I can trust Ben Coulter? He asked me to go the picnic with him and, well, if he’s not one of the good guys, I’d just as soon know about it in advance. So what do you say, can I trust him?”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Earl nodded.

  “That’s good enough for me. Thanks, Mr. Woodbury.” She hopped up and continued on her way.

  Tiffany was already gone by the time Earl tipped his cowboy hat.

  AS TIRED AS SHE WAS when she got back to her room, Tiffany was never too tired to fill her social media friends in on everything she’d been up to during the day. She mentioned Michael Woodbury a time or two, but she couldn’t wait to drop little hints about Ben, even though she didn’t know much about
him yet. Her friends demanded more details, but she didn’t want to jinks their relationship of only a few hours.

  When Ben called, the sound of his deep, teddy bear voice thrilled her. She could get used to hearing that voice. “You fix my car yet?”

  “Nope. You’ve got an electrical problem.”

  “That figures.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because the guy who sold it to me said it would last at least three more years. What I got was three more weeks.” She sighed. “Please tell me it’s fixable?”

  “It is, but I don’t have the parts. It shouldn’t take more than a week to get them in though. What did you think of Mariam?”

  “You were right – she doesn’t act entitled at all. I have yet to think of someone back home she reminds me of, but I’m working on it.”

  “You compare all people to the ones you know at home?”

  “Sure I do. We only know what we experience ourselves. People can tell us all day long what a pathological liar is, but if you’ve never met one, how can you learn to know one when you see one?”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  The pause between them was a little awkward before she asked, “So a week to fix the car?”

  “Sooner, if...”

  “Ben, is there a laundromat around here I can walk to?”

  “Just a block over. It’s on the street behind the bank.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  “Later,” he said and then hung up – way too soon.

  CHAPTER 4

  SUNDAY MORNING, EARL nodded to her as Tiffany came out of her hotel carrying a plastic bag full of dirty clothes, crossed the street and then found a throughway that took her to the block behind the bank. She looked both ways, discovered the laundromat a block away in one direction and a small grocery a block away in the other direction. With no laundry soap or dryer sheets, she chose to see if the store was open first. It was a small store with chipped paint on the exterior and looked as though it had been built not long after the older buildings on Main Street. She bought supplies, a soda and verified with the friendly clerk that the washers and dryers down the street would take dollar bills.

  That early in the morning, Tiffany had the laundromat all to herself. It was small too, with only ten washers, six overly large dryers, two tables and three plastic chairs offering a place for customers to sit. Tiffany sorted her clothes into two loads, paid her two dollars each and had just turned the machines on when her Dad called. “You didn’t go to church this morning?” she asked.

  “No. I was on a case until late last night and your mom gets annoyed when I fall asleep in church.”

  “I don’t blame her. So how is everyone?”

  “Fine, and you? Is your car fixed yet?”

  “Not yet. It’s something with the electrical, and the mechanic has to order a part. Dad, I got a part time job in a used bookstore.”

  “Good for you.”

  She hesitated to mention it, but did anyway. “There’s an old man here who hasn’t spoken to anyone in years, but know what? He talked to me.”

  “You actually let him get a word in edgewise?”

  “I know, right? No one knows he talked to me though, it’s our little secret.” She filled him in on what little she knew about the kidnapping and waited for his usual cautionary lecture.

  Instead, he said, “Sounds fascinating.”

  “It is.” She looked up just in time to watch Crazy Eddie slowly drive by. It was then she noticed an old laptop computer in the back of the laundromat and headed that way. It was bolted down and turned to the Michael Woodbury Billboard Show. The 100% on his billboard had not yet been fixed, but then, it was Sunday. About that little feud, she said nothing to him. It was just the kind of thing her father knew could mushroom into something serious, and put his little girl in danger. Instead of taking the chance of saying too much, she cut the call short. “I love you, Dad, but my laundry is almost done.”

  “Okay, love you too. And Tiffany?”

  She giggled, “Uh oh, here it comes.”

  “Try recharging your cellphone once in a while.”

  “I promise.” She was still smiling when she disconnected the call.

  AFTER CHURCH, MOST people went home, while others ate dinner in restaurants or enjoyed private picnics at the lake. With no school crossing to attend, it was a slow shift for Deputy Victor Stonebrooke. As always, Vic met Rod at the office to spend his last half hour on duty filling the next deputy in on the news. He mentioned a few inconsequential things, and then said, “Otis is starting to look for someone to replace him after Wayne retires.”

  “That’s good news,” said Rod.

  “I just hope he...or she, isn’t as green as I was when I started.”

  “I know what you mean.” Rod waited for Vic to clock out, and then clocked himself in on the computer. “Tell me, are you worried about this fight between Michael Woodbury and Jerry Terrell?”

  “Not really. There’s an unspoken divide between the new and the old people in this town, but both sides are enjoying it. I sure wish I could go to the picnic, but I drew the short straw this year. It should be a very interesting picnic.”

  “You think a lot of people will show up?”

  “Well, according to the parents I talk to at the school crosswalk, the new people are looking forward to it just as much as the old. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see five or six hundred.”

  “That many,” Rod muttered.

  Vic patted the newest member of the Sheriff’s team on the back. “Don’t worry, you’ll survive the picnic – Wayne, Otis, and I always have.”

  WHEN HE STARTED HIS shift, Deputy Rod Keller had a lot on his mind, especially after diving into the kidnapping case the night before. First, however he wanted to check on the widow’s burned arm.

  In the daylight, Nancy’s small farm looked far more cheerful and a lot less dilapidated than it had the night before. The yard was clean, had several large lilac bushes, and two fruit trees, one plum and one peach, that were about to blossom. Instead of being inside, Nancy was in the field behind the house weeding rows of short corn stalks. The moment Willie spotted the sheriff’s cruiser, he started to run to his new friend.

  Rod got out of his car just in time to swing the child up in his arms. “Friends?” he asked, putting his hand up for a high-five. Willie slapped Rod’s hand as hard as he could, and then let Rod carry him back to his mother.

  Nancy stood up, laid her hoe down, and then pulled her heavy gloves off her hands. “Mornin’, Deputy.” She took her son out of Rod’s arms and set him on the ground. “Willie, go to the house and fill the water pitcher – but just half full so it won’t be too heavy.” She was more than pleased when her son grabbed the green plastic pitcher and immediately obeyed her. “I swear you worked a miracle last night. He’s been as good as gold all morning.”

  “He just needed someone to get him going in the right direction.”

  “What brings you out this way?”

  “You. I wanted to check on your burn.”

  She blushed a little and looked at her bandaged arm. “It’ll be good as new in a day or two. I just scalded it a little. It didn’t even break the skin, thank goodness.”

  “Good.” Behind the house he spotted a tractor with both the large and small tires flattened to the ground. “What happened?”

  “I shot them,” she answered. “I was so mad at the stupid thing for killing my husband, I took the rifle and blasted away.” When he chuckled, she started to laugh. “I’ve never told anyone else that and I guess it is pretty funny. It wasn’t very smart of me, but it sure felt good at the time.”

  “I bet it did.”

  “Lloyd was a good man and deserved to watch his son grow up.”

  “Mrs. Richards, I...”

  “Nancy, please.”

  “Nancy, I was raised on a Texas cattle ranch and one of the things I miss most is fixin’ fences and such. I like to think I’m pretty handy
with a saw and a hammer. I wonder, I mean, I was hoping you’d let me come out on my day off and see if I can fix your porch.”

  “I see,” she suspiciously said. “You want to do it for your sake and not for ours?”

  “Yes ma’am, it would be a completely selfish act.”

  She turned away, grinned and then looked back. “Well, I’d not want to be the one to deprive you of such pleasure, and Willie will love it.”

  “Is tomorrow afternoon okay with you?”

  “Sure.”

  Rod turned to watch the little boy carefully carry the pitcher around the corner of the house. “You and Willie doing okay?”

  The pitcher looked like it was getting heavy, so Nancy started walking toward her son. “We will be once my husband’s life insurance pays off. It’s been months and they keep stalling, but I think we’re at the end of the negotiations. Would you believe they asked me how much I thought my husband was worth?”

  Rod frowned. “What did you say?”

  “I was so appalled I didn’t say anything at first. Then I got mad and thought if they want to play games, I’ll play, so I said twenty-million.” She grinned and took the pitcher of water out of Willie’s hands, “It was the insurance company’s turn to be appalled. They’re not offering anything near that amount, but it’ll let us keep the farm for a couple more years.”

  “Can I ride in your car?” Willie asked.

  “Not today, I have to get back to work.” Rod playfully messed up Willie’s hair, tipped his hat to the widow, and went back to his car. When he glanced her direction, Nancy was watching him with the pitcher in one hand, her other arm wrapped around Willie, and her gloves on the ground in front of her.

  HER LAUNDRY DONE AND put away in her hotel room, Tiffany grabbed a sandwich at the fast food restaurant and then headed off to work. On her way, she stopped in front of the bank to check the billboard computer. So far, nothing had changed. It still said 50% satisfaction guaranteed.