Secrets in a Still Life Page 8

  "Bedroom is behind this partition," Bobby said, pointing to the right. I peeked in. Not a huge space, but definitely more than I was used to. A huge bay window let in ample natural light—something my photographer heart craved. A little cut-out closet with a curtain graced one wall. Nice touch.

  "Next, we have the only fully separate room—the bathroom. I figured Tony wouldn't care one way or another, but Ma here had the ladies in mind. Hoping Tony gets himself one of those at some point," Bobby explained.

  "Good thinking," Nana K said. "No tub, but this shower surround looks like the one at the spa in Mapleton. Alex, check out that tile."

  "It's really lovely," I said, meaning it. River rocks and rough, natural tile intertwined to create the ambiance of the outdoors. A window in the ceiling bathed the space in light and warmth. The design was perfect and exactly what I would have picked for myself. A small pedestal sink, decorative round mirror, and normal boring toilet finished the space.

  "Down this way is the living room area and kitchen."

  We moved the rest of the way down the space to the far wall toward the kitchen. A fair amount of cabinet space, more than I would ever need for my two pots and three dishes, lined the wall above a deep farmhouse sink and counters in the same color palette as the tile in the bathroom. I turned in a circle to view the open space and gasped when I saw the fireplace inset into the wall.

  "Is that real?" I asked at the same time Colleen asked, "Is that safe?"

  Bobby chuckled. "Both real and safe. We had all the inspections done. There's a wood pile out back beside the barn."

  "I don't think I can afford this," I said. Considering how much I paid for a run-down, water-stained, cockroach infested, third of this space in New York, I couldn't imagine what this brand-new, handcrafted space would cost a month. My lack of steady income suddenly seemed more of an issue. My savings, and the royalties from stock photography, was ample, but certainly not bottomless. Especially since it was currently unreplenished.

  Nana K piped up. "I'm sure we can come to something agreeable. This space was sitting empty, so any amount is better than nothing. Throw in Alex's photography services, say once a season or for special events, and that could offset some of the cost. Of course, she'll pay for her own utilities."

  "Sounds like you have this all figured out," I said, smiling.

  Nana K shrugged. "It's a no-brainer."

  "Sounds like a win-win to me," Mrs. Anita said, cutting off whatever Bobby was about to say. She named a price that had me gaping once again. This time in a good way.

  "Are you sure?" I squeaked. Then cleared my throat and tried again. I couldn't even rent a parking space in New York for that little. "I don't want to take advantage."

  "Keep in mind we're running a business here. No loud parties. No drugs or illegal activities," Mrs. Anita warned.

  "Wouldn't think of it," I said, crossing my heart with a finger.

  "And don't break anything," Bobby added. I nodded. Can't a girl run into one sign without everyone pegging her as Alex the Destroyer?

  Okay, two signs. But who's counting.

  "Tony gets priority. So if he suddenly decides to come back, you're out. Want to be clear up front."

  "No problem. I have very little belongings. And I'm hoping this is temporary until I get another gig in New York," I explained.

  "Sounds like it's all set. How long until she can move in?" Nana K asked.

  "Coupla days?" Bobby suggested. "Just need to run the water and turn on the electricity again."

  "Fabulous. Now let's go get some pie. All this negotiating makes me hungry," Nana K said.

  Holy crap. Did I just lease an apartment? What did I do? I took a deep breath. I'd have a few days to think about whether I really wanted this commitment or not. But given the price and the condition, I'd seriously be an idiot not to take it. The only downside was how to get to town without a car or a driver's license for the next few months. I wasn't used to relying on people.

  I gave my grandmother a sidelong glance. It was Nana K's fault I was here in the first place. I'd feel less guilty about asking her to escort me around for the time being. If my stomach could handle Nana K's driving, that is.

  Colleen bumped my shoulder. "Stop overthinking it. This is an amazing deal. Much better than what I'm paying for my crappy rancher."

  "Yeah, but you own your rancher," I pointed out. Like an actual adult.

  "True. That money pit is all mine. If you can wait until the weekend, I'll help you move. I can borrow my brother's truck." She flashed me a grin. "I'm sure Linc would love to help."

  "I'm sure Linc will be sick of me by the end of the week. I'm spending a ridiculous amount of time with him because of the community service. We'll both need a break from each other by then," I pointed out.

  Nana K's small, bespectacled head popped out from the market door. She shouted, "You two slow pokes are gonna miss out on pie if you don't put a little boogie in your step. Get your skinny butts moving!"

  Colleen laughed. "All right, hobbles, the sooner we eat this pie, the sooner we can get you back home to ice that ankle again. I need you a bit more mobile tomorrow night."

  "What's tomorrow night?" I asked. "I'm not moving until the weekend, right?"

  Colleen gave me a dumbfounded look. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head in the fall? We're following Mike Vandenburg, remember? Wednesday night is poker night, but his adventures take on a different meaning to poke-her, if you get my drift."

  "Ew, Colleen," I said, but chuckled. "Are we really doing that?"

  "You betcha. Mainly to help you clear your name. But also for the gossip," Colleen said, rubbing her hands together. "Working at a preschool doesn't usually give me a leg up in the juicy-gossip game. The book club is going to eat this up!"

  I shook my head at her. I took one last look back at the outside of the barn that I would likely call home in a few short days. Maybe my luck was starting to turn around after all.

  Chapter 13

  I iced and elevated and elevated and iced my ankle all day Wednesday until it returned to almost normal size. The color was still as brilliant a blue-purple as my fish, however. I'd even begged off going to the firehouse so I could rest up for our spying tonight.

  Bruising and swelling was the excuse I gave Linc, anyway. Really, I knew that as soon as he saw my face, he'd know I was up to something. Know I was hiding something. I didn't want to hear the lecture about snooping.

  Colleen beeped the horn outside at exactly six thirty like we'd planned. The poker night started around seven, so we wanted to be sure to catch Mike before he left his McMansion. Halfway there, I got the jitters.

  "This is silly. Why would he still sneak around with Missy dead? Couldn't he be more out in the open about seeing other women?" I asked. He wouldn't need the cover of the poker game without Missy.

  "We'll never know unless we go. Stop being a Polly Pissypants. I'll get you ice cream on the way home," Colleen placated in her teacher voice.

  "I'm not a child. I'm just wondering if this is a waste of time."

  "Look. From what I understand of men, they are creatures of habit. If he has a standing date with some chick on Wednesday nights, he'll probably keep it. Plus, coming right out with a new relationship less than a week after your wife turns up dead isn't a smart move. If I were him, I'd totally still keep any affairs clandestine. Not only for my reputation, but also to keep the cops off my back."

  "Fair point," I admitted. I tapped my fingernails on the doorframe as the town passed beside us. The Vandenburgs lived on the Hill, as the townies called it. A grouping of overpriced, cookie-cutter mini-mansions on small lots situated on a hill overlooking the reservoir. These were the types of impersonal dwellings that all looked the same and had rooms that no one ever used. The developers named all the streets after the trees they cut down to create the planned community.

  I much preferred the comfort and personalization of my parents' smaller home in town. Although we didn't have a
view of the reservoir since the surrounding pine forest blocked it, we did have immediate access to it through the backyard path. The Hill dwellers had to drive to get to the water. Not that most of these spoiled housewives would be caught dead in the woods.

  I shivered. Except that Missy was found dead in the woods. What would she have been doing there in the first place? Did someone lure her there? How? Threaten her kids? Threaten to chip her manicure? I couldn't guess what motivated Missy to wander into the woods that day. I just wished she hadn't.

  "Almost there," Colleen said, slowing so we could see the house numbers. She stopped a few houses away from the Vandenburgs' and parked along the curb. "Now we wait to see if the target leaves the nest."

  "You watch too much television," I said.

  "Maybe you don't watch enough. I can't believe you didn't wear all black. You're such an amateur."

  "I didn't have any black pants. And you know my mother doesn't have any that I could borrow. These cargos are close enough." I paired the darkest pair of green camo-printed cargo pants I owned with a black tank top. Seemed good enough to me at the time. But given the lack of actual foliage beyond the crisp landscaping, the camo wouldn't really help as much as I thought.

  "If we get caught, I'm blaming your green—" She stopped talking as a light in the Vandenburg garage came on. "Look!" Colleen pointed at the house.

  "I see it. I see it." I didn't know whether to duck down in my seat or tell Colleen to start the car. "What do we do? What do we do?"

  Why was I suddenly a parrot?

  "Follow him, of course. That's literally why we're here." Colleen sounded like she was speaking to one of the toddlers at the preschool where she worked. Again.

  "Shoot. He's coming this way. Duck down!" I said. We both crouched down in our seats as the car drove past. As soon as the headlights moved away from the back seat, Colleen shot up and turned on the car. She rammed it into gear and made a tire-screeching U-turn while I tried to not throw up beside her. We raced down the hill after the car. How the heck did I lose my license when crazy drivers like Colleen and Nana K got to keep theirs? Mysteries of small towns.

  "Cheese and crackers!" I exclaimed, holding tight to the handle above my seat as Colleen careened around a turnout of the neighborhood. "Would you slow down? We are supposed to not draw attention to ourselves."

  Colleen eased up on the gas. "Sorry. This is all so exciting! And I don't want to lose him."

  "You mean in all this traffic?" I gestured to the practically empty road around us. The Vandenburg car's taillights were clearly visible about a block ahead. "We don't even know it's Mike in that car."

  "Who else would it be? The kids aren't old enough to drive. And it obviously isn't Missy," Colleen said.

  I gaped at her.

  Colleen shrugged. "What? It's true."

  I mean, she wasn't wrong.

  The Vandenburg car—something sporty and splashy—turned onto the Weather Streets. This neighborhood, unlike the one where the Vandenburgs lived, was an older neighborhood with mature trees, old Piney Ridge family names, and a mix of ranchers, Colonials, and split-levels. No cookie-cutter houses here, much like my parents' neighborhood. The lots were spacious, most having been fenced in over the years to accommodate pets and small children, and the porch lights were lit. I knew if the blood rushing in my ears would slow, I'd be able to hear the laughter of families enjoying the early evening air on their back porches.

  Mike rounded the corner from Snowfall Way onto Sunshine Court. Colleen followed at a safe distance; no need to go too fast since Sunshine Court dead ended. We saw the car in front of a modest rancher at the end of the cul-de-sac. I whipped my eyes to the front porch in time to see a male—must be Mike—entering the house. The curtains were drawn in the front window, so we couldn't see in. Darnit.

  "Who lives here?" I whispered.

  "No idea," Colleen whispered back. She followed the circle of the court and parked her car opposite Mike's, facing the open end of the street. Smart move in case we needed a quick getaway.

  "Now what?" I asked, still whispering.

  "We wait a minute. Maybe we'll see some naughty shadows in the window. Or maybe they'll come out and go somewhere else," she said.

  "Why are we whispering?" I asked.

  Colleen laughed. Then said in her normal voice, "You started it."

  I laughed too and felt a little lighter. "Well, there's one thing for sure. He was, and still is, lying about poker night."

  We sat for a few more minutes staring at the house. No movement, no noise, no nothing.

  "This is boring," I said. I was used to the hustle and bustle of big cities, the shouts and crowds of village markets, the shrieks and cries of the never-quiet jungles. This was equivalent to watching paint dry or waiting in line at the motor vehicle administration. Or organizing the desktop icons at the firehouse. Everything here in Piney Ridge was so quiet and so slow. No, not just slow, but still. Practically moving backward.

  "So tell me about your plans," Colleen said, turning her attention to me instead of the quiet house. "I feel like we haven't caught up since you've been back."

  I shrugged. "The more plans I make, the more this whole thing feels permanent."

  "What's wrong with that?"

  I could hear the hint of umbrage in her voice. Like me, Colleen had been born and raised in Piney Ridge. Unlike me, Colleen never had any desire to leave. She'd always loved the small-town vibe. So much so, in fact, she won the Miss Teen Crab Princess crown when we were in high school. She wore that sash around like she was mayor—taking her duties and appearances very seriously. Unfortunately, a terrible case of stomach flu blasted through the contestants, effectively canceling the state-level competition and Colleen’s rise to Teen Crab power.

  "Nothing is wrong with it," I answered her question. "It just isn't for me. Toe-may-to, toe-mah-to and all that. I need to get back to my life. This feels like a layover."

  "At least you won't be laying over at your parents' house much longer. Can't say Connie and George in the next room is very conducive to an adult relationship, if you know what I mean." Colleen waggled her eyebrows.

  "And who would I even be having an adult relationship with?"

  "I know a certain firefighter who's single. And who you used to have a huge crush on."

  I rolled my eyes and looked out the window so Colleen couldn't see the blush creeping up my neck. "That was a lifetime ago," I mumbled.

  "Listen, the way he looked at you the other day says he's interested too."

  I shook my head. "The only thing he's interested in is seeing how much more awkward I can be. I'm like a one-woman circus, and Piney Ridge has front-row seats."

  "So? All I'm saying is a hot guy is interested in you—for whatever reason. Don't squander it."

  I snorted and was about to respond when movement in the house caught my eye. "Look!"

  Colleen turned her head to peer out the window.

  "They're moving around back. I really wish I could hear what they were saying. Let's get closer," Colleen said.

  Before I could react and tell her it was a terrible idea, Colleen had scrambled out of the driver's side and ran halfway across the street. She moved in a low crouch, which totally drew more attention than if she walked like a normal person. When Colleen reached the other side, she looked back and motioned impatiently for me to follow her. I sighed, grabbed my crutch, and got out of the car. I hobble-ran as fast as I dared across the street. Colleen was practically apoplectic by the time I reached her, dancing from one foot to another.

  "Do you have to pee?" I asked brightly. "You should have thought of that before class."

  "No! I'm excited. And you are taking your grand ol' time. I should've left you in the car."

  "Why are we standing here yapping? Let's do what we came to do," I said, moving toward the tall privacy fence on the side of the yard. The slats were over six feet tall and almost touching. While that meant we couldn't see the backyard, it also me
ant Mike and his alleged mistress couldn't see us either. And really, we only needed to hear the conversation—or whatever else they were doing.

  I pressed my ear to the wood. Colleen's face appeared in front of mine a moment later, giving me a little jump. I furrowed my brows at her; Colleen shrugged. We could hear faint music playing and the murmur of voices.

  "Can you hear what they're saying?" Colleen said so quietly I had to read her lips to decipher what she asked. I shook my head. Collectively, we shuffled closer to the house. I got my crutch stuck in the mud and almost fell over but caught myself just in time. I stifled a giggle. Now it was Colleen's turn to snap her eyebrows together in warning. I clamped a hand over my mouth and pressed my ear to the fence again.

  Snippets of conversation drifted through the fence now that we were closer to where Mike and his mistress were talking.

  "... can be together," a woman's whiny voice said.

  "... cool off for a bit until..." a man's voice answered.

  Then the woman's voice, louder now and higher pitched as the conversation grew more heated. "Why, Mike?"

  Colleen raised her eyebrows. We just got confirmation the male voice belonged to Mike Vandenburg.

  The woman continued, "The crazy cow is gone. You said once she was out of the picture, we could be together."

  I raised my eyebrows to match Colleen's. Did we just hear a confession? Too late I thought about recording on my phone. Dangit—but maybe they would continue the conversation and drop even more incriminating nuggets. Better late than never—I turned on the camera and held the phone next to my ear by the fence.

  "... voice down," the man was saying.

  "Who is going to hear? Who is going to care? No one even liked her."

  Mike shushed her and lowered his voice. "... murdered... pin it on me... just for a while."

  "Come on, say her name," Colleen wished out loud beside me.

  I flicked her arm. When Colleen looked at me crossly, I pointed to my phone and mouthed, "I'm recording." I'd rather not have our voices on the recording just in case I needed to send it anonymously to the police. Was that a thing? I hoped it was a thing.