Designed to Death Page 6

“I hear her.” Karen dabbed at her cheeks with the ends of her silk scarf. “Please, she needs me.”

  So, Karen knew something happened tonight but not the actual what. Steve had only said there was an injured person behind Scrap This. He deliberately gave sketchy details knowing too many people found a way to monitor the dispatcher’s calls.

  “Her name and yours.” The nurse rose and pressed her hands on the counter. The nurse stood at almost six-feet, lithe, and had well-defined muscles.

  Karen drew back and flicked a glance in my direction. Her eyes narrowed.

  I hope she didn’t think I was honing in on her territory and trying to get into the news business. She hadn’t realized yet I wasn’t the story kind of gal. Once you had been “a story” you weren’t so keen on creating any for someone else.

  At least not deliberately.

  “I’m Karen England. I demand you let me go and comfort my friend.” She prepared to charge forward.

  “And I’m telling you to sit in the waiting room.”

  Karen swept her hair over her shoulder and tilted up her chin. “Or you’ll call security to throw me out?”

  The nurse looked Karen up and down, an I’ll-love-doing-this smile stretching her model perfect lips. “I don’t need security.”

  “I should go offer some help.” Steve slapped his hands onto his thighs then stood.

  Drat. I’d rather he let the women work it out. I was rooting for the nurse.

  “May I be of some assistance, ladies?” Steve walked smoothly between the two women and offered both a smile.

  The nurse narrowed her eyes on Steve. “I don’t need a man to handle this problem for me.”

  I liked her. I wondered if she’d think it was weird if I asked for her name and phone number. My grandmothers didn’t think I hung out with friends often enough and this woman sounded like someone I’d get along with really well.

  “I’d love your help Assistant Prosecutor Steve Davis. This nurse doesn’t understand how important it is I go back there.” With each word, Karen walked her fingers up from Steve’s stomach to his nose. She ended the sentence by bopping her finger on his nose.

  I gripped the armrests on the chair to stop myself from walking over and bopping Karen on her own nose. I watched Steve’s reaction carefully. Was he as offended as I was by Karen?

  He had his “courtroom” face on. My stomach clenched a little. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. Was Steve hiding his reaction from me or Karen? Which one of us was he afraid of ticking off?

  The nurse rolled her eyes. “I don’t care if he’s the governor of West Virginia. Only family and friends who the patients have requested will be permitted in the back.”

  “Steve?” Karen batted her eyelashes up at him.

  “Those are the hospital’s rules. They must be followed.” Steve said. “If you must speak to someone, you can either wait...”

  I cleared my throat, trying to get Steve’s attention. Please don’t do that to Hazel. The last thing she needed was Karen the vulture-reporter hovering around her.

  Steve didn’t hear me, but Karen did. She lasered a glare over at me. The words in those evil eyes rang in my head loud and clear. Stay. Out. Of. This.

  Not. Going. To. Happen. I responded back with a look of my own.

  “Let me drive you home.” I heard someone say as Hazel’s muffled cries came toward Steve and Karen.

  Karen’s eye brightened and she swiveled.

  “Steve...” I didn’t have to give the warning cry. Steve already positioned himself to block Karen from the grieving mother.

  Officer Conroy Jasper held onto Hazel’s arm and led her from the examination room. Hazel, pale and wide-eyed, stumbled even with Jasper’s help. She barely noticed the six-foot tall female nurse, Steve, Karen, or me.

  “Why did it happen? Why?” Hazel repeated the questions over and over again. “One wrong step? That’s it. Just one?”

  “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Sometimes these things just happen. Belinda must’ve tripped in the dark.” Conroy wrapped an arm around Hazel and pulled her tighter to him, settling a warning look on Karen.

  Hazel looked over her shoulder and ground to a halt. Her blue eyes snapped and I swear fire shot out from them. One of us enraged her with our presence. And from the hatred in her eyes, I hoped it was Karen.

  “How dare you come here!” The brittle words shook from Hazel’s throat as she pulled away from Jasper and charged over toward us.

  Toward me more specifically.

  Karen grinned and slipped a small notebook from her pocket. It looked like I was about to become a story. Again. At this rate, Karen should just follow me around. I’d give her enough ideas to fill at least one column a month.

  I braced myself. Keep calm. A grieving mother deserved some leeway. Belinda’s parade had been rained on at Scrap This. Belinda’s last moment of happiness. I had been in charge of the signing and class. I guess I should’ve used some of the decorative duct tape we had gotten in to seal Darlene’s lips.

  Hazel trembled from head to toe. She clenched her fists and her breaths came out in angry spurts. “You...you...”

  I took a tiny step back. I knew I didn’t do anything but Hazel sure felt I did, and whatever it was made her want to throttle me.

  “Show up here after killing my daughter!” Hazel raised her bunched fist.

  Jasper raced over.

  Steve stepped in front of me.

  Karen yanked her high tech cell phone from her bag. Probably preparing to snap a picture of the punch, nothing made a story better than a photograph.

  “What?” It was the only word in my befuddled mind. Kill her daughter? Of all things I imagined she’d be angry about, I never considered that one.

  “Let’s get you home, Hazel.” Jasper offered me a sympathetic smile and carefully placed an arm around Hazel’s shoulders.

  “You might think she’s innocent but I know the truth.” The words “Mother of a Diva” across Hazel’s more than ample chest quivered with her rage. The glittery claim caught the lights and caused shimmers of light to float around.

  “What happened to Belinda was a terrible accident—”

  The hatred in Hazel’s eyes dammed the rest of the words I was going to speak.

  “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t asked Belinda to go to the store.” The pronoun hissed out between Hazel’s clenched teeth.

  I had enough. It was one thing to be understanding and another to stand by with mouth closed when accused of a crime — especially murder. Been there, done that once and it didn’t get me anywhere except to a jail cell and a loss of a career, even though I was proven innocent.

  “That’s a lie, Hazel.” I crossed my arms and fired off a glare of my own.

  “Faith, take it easy.” Steve placed a comforting hand on the small of my back.

  I stepped away from it and shook my head. “No way. I’ll stand here and take a lot of stuff, but I refuse to allow even Hazel to spread a rumor that I murdered Belinda. I’m not going to jail just so I can be polite and behave in a socially acceptable manner toward a grieving mother.”

  “No one’s going to jail.” Jasper once again tried leading Hazel away.

  “Don’t you go lying to me, girlie.” Hazel snapped her fingers very close to my face.

  I gritted my teeth and clenched the hem of my jacket before I reacted in a stupid way and gave Jasper a reason to haul me off to jail.

  “I didn’t say you murdered her but you did kill her.” Hazel clarified. “You told her to go out there in the middle of the night to meet you. Why your grandmothers couldn’t meet me at a more reasonable hour, I’ll never know. I told Belinda I’d get it for her. If Hope or Cheryl had met me, and you didn’t tell Belinda—”

  Now she wanted to bad mouth my grandmothers. It. Was. On. “You’re a liar.”

  “Come on, Faith. Let’s go home.” Steve grabbed hold of my hand.

  Frowning, Karen jotted down notes.

  Jasper step
ped into the spot of the floor separating me and Hazel. “Now I’m going to officially say to break this up. I know you’re upset Hazel, but Belinda died from a slip and fall. It’s not Faith or her grandmothers’ fault. I can’t let you go around accusing people of a crime.”

  “But she asked...”

  “No, I didn’t,” I said. “The police can check my phone records or you can check Belinda’s phone. I didn’t call her tonight.”

  “I will.” Her voice wobbled and she allowed Jasper to take her home.

  “You know she just needed someone to lash out at,” Steve said.

  “Lashing out I’d accept, being accused of killing someone I won’t.”

  “What in the world is Hazel going to do now that Belinda’s gone?” Karen dropped her phone and notebook into her purse.

  A deep ache settled in my chest and tears pooled in my eyes. The fight left me as quickly as it entered. The world was cruel sometimes. No rhyme or reason. No warning. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I watched Jasper lead Hazel to his squad car. I felt a strong arm go around my shoulders. This time, I accepted Steve’s comfort, burrowing into his side and resting my head on his shoulder.

  How would Hazel get over her daughter’s death? Belinda was her life. Her purpose. I stuck my hand into my coat pocket and reached for my cell phone. Should I call my grandmothers? Having lost their only children also, they might have the understanding arms and tears the grieving mother needed.

  SEVEN

  I turned on the Keurig and peered into the tote I filled with investigating supplies. Phone, notebook, pen, magnifying glass, my small camera, and a change of clothes suitable for church. Everything I needed. A heavy day stretched out before me. I had to get to Scrap This and find out what Belinda had been up to.

  I hated thinking ill of the dead, but I could not think of any other reason for Belinda to be at the store except for creating mischief. After I took a quick look around the store, I would need to change and get to church. I could just call my grandmothers and let them know I wasn’t going, but that required too much of an explanation.

  The coffee stopped brewing and I transferred the hot liquid from the ceramic mug into my stainless steel travel cup. I needed to find a smaller size that fit into my machine. One day I’d burn myself pouring from one cup into the other. Or else spill it all over the floor and defeat my purpose of leaving quickly.

  I got into my car as the sun peeked over the mountains. As long as nothing unexpected happened, I would be able to accomplish my mission and get to the church service on time. Only a clueless person walked into church late when Gussie was opening with a solo. And if one did, you did it once and never again.

  Slowly, I backed out of my driveway and crept down the street, throwing a quick glance at my grandmothers’ house. All was quiet and still. I knew I’d have to explain one day, probably tomorrow when the full news hit the newspapers, but not today. I wasn’t ready to face questions from them, or have to tell my grandmothers Belinda died at our store’s back door.

  My heart and thoughts drifted away from me and to Belinda’s mother and what the poor woman was going through. Maybe I should tell my grandmothers and not wait for them to hear it at church or through the grapevine. They knew the pain Hazel was experiencing and could be a solace to her. My mother and father died in an airplane crash when I was an infant. My grandfathers and grandmothers raised me, living side-by-side in the townhouse complex they still owned. The last unit had been my parents and had been left vacant until I moved back home.

  A car was parked a few feet behind the employee parking spaces of Scrap This. My heart thudded. I slowed down. I snagged the strap of my purse and tugged it toward me. Digging around in the tote for my phone, I scanned the area. The trunk of the four door sedan was opened. A person wearing jeans and a nylon jacket was leaning into the compartment, rooting around for something.

  My breath caught in my throat. Why was someone here this morning? Were they also looking for something left behind? Maybe Belinda hadn’t arrived at the store by herself, or even at all when she was alive. Jasper had said Belinda tripped because it was dark. The security lights would have clicked on and allowed Belinda to see the two small concrete steps.

  Drawing in a deep breath and shutting up the annoying conspiracy theory voice, I grabbed hold of my cell phone and dropped it onto my lap. One closer look before I made a drastic call and announced Belinda’s death was really a murder and the culprit returned to the scene of the crime. I hooked my arms around the steering wheel and leaned closer. The horn bleated. Not a great spying tactic.

  The person jerked upright and spun around, nearly hitting their head on the open trunk. Ted.

  What was he doing here?

  Ted rolled his eyes then returned his attention his car. He pulled out a large tub and plastic gloves.

  Was he gathering evidence? I pressed a hand to my mouth. Was it murder? What other reason would he have for being at the store? The police wouldn’t have had time to collect everything last night or complete a thorough investigation in the dark. What looked like an accident in the night screamed murder in the morning.

  I had to know what was going on. I got out of my car and went and stood beside him, peeking into his trunk. A large brown box was shoved in the back next to a green garden hose.

  He slammed the trunk. “Do you mind?”

  “If you’re taking evidence from the store, I have a right to know.”

  Ted gave me an odd look. “Evidence?”

  Drat. I swallowed hard and tried to think of a good reason I used that particular word. Thinking of nothing good, I went with the truth. “You’re a homicide detective. I figured you were here because of Belinda’s death. How could she have tripped because it was dark when the security lights turned on?”

  Ted frowned.

  “That’s something to consider. Right?” I rocked on my heels.

  “Maybe they didn’t go off.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Steve and I drove over here when the alarm company called me. When I approached the back door, they turned on.”

  Ted’s frown deepened and now his eyes tugged down.

  I probably should really shut up now. I had a bad feeling I was doing the law enforcement equivalent of sticker sneezing and creating a mess instead of an eye-pleasing layout.

  “So you’re here investigating a possible crime?” Ted crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Of course not. I’m not a detective. And there hasn’t been a crime committed.”

  “Hallelujah.” Ted raised his hands in the air like he was praising. “She finally figured out she’s not a cop.”

  “You’re hilarious.”

  “I’m not being a jokester.” He grabbed the tub and gloves and headed for the employee entrance.

  “You are looking for stuff.”

  He plopped the large tub by the back door and scanned the wall.

  I watched Ted. What did the man plan on doing?

  He rested his hands at his waist and took a few steps back, examining the back of the building.

  Curiosity got the best of me. “Something in particular you’re looking for?”

  “A faucet.”

  “A faucet?”

  Ted nodded. “The thing that water comes out of and you can attach a hose to it.”

  I glanced in the tub. A scrub brush, detergent and bleach were nestled inside. My heart pitter-pattered. Ted had come to clean up. “Thanks.”

  Ted jerked his head and stared at me with wide eyes and a hint of an interested smile.

  Ugh. The simple word came out breathy. Not what I intended. I pointed to the left. “It’s at the far corner.”

  “I don’t know if my hose will reach.”

  “We have one in the backroom. I can get it. If it’s okay.”

  “If it wasn’t okay, I wouldn’t have been out here to clean up.”

  The warmness in my heart got a little cold. I pressed back a relieved smile. Just like Ted to change my opinion of
him in a heartbeat with an annoyed comment. I was amazed this man even thought I was capable of planning a crime, much less committing one, as he seldom gave me credit for anything.

  Except for getting into trouble and on his nerves.

  “I’ll be right back.” I unlocked the back door and marched into the store with my head tipped up. Ted’s attitude wouldn’t bother me at all, or at least not enough for him to get a reaction out of me.

  Before I reached the hose, my foot snagged the edge of a box. An involuntary screech flew from my mouth as my body pitched forward. My hands shot forward to break my fall. Fortunately, in front of me were more boxes so I landed on cardboard filled with packs of paper rather than the cement.

  “What’s wrong?” Ted was at my side, gun in hand.

  “I tripped.” I pushed myself up from the boxes with only a twinge in one wrist. I rotated my left hand, hoping to work out the kink. I grimaced.

  Ted holstered his gun. “Let me see.”

  “It’s nothing.” I tried to hide my hand but Ted was quicker.

  Gently, he touched and examined every inch of my wrist, lingering a little too long on my pulse.

  “Told you. It’s fine.” I croaked out.

  Ted’s gaze locked onto mine. I saw the heat in his green eyes. My heart rate picked up speed. I didn’t want him looking at me like that.

  Oh yes you do.

  Ted raised my hand, never taking his eyes off of me. “A kiss to make it better.”

  No. No. No. Even as I screamed the words in my head, and told my body to tug my arm away, another part of my brain shut me down. My knees quaked and I held my breath, yearning to feel his lips on my wrist. I shouldn’t listen to the part of me begging for the simple act of tender care from a man who should be off limits.

  Another man I shouldn’t have in my life.

  The word “another” was like a cooler full of cold water being dumped over my head. Rational thought returned. Along with guilt and something that almost felt like betrayal. For a woman who swore off romance, and vowed she’d be single for the rest of her life, I sure did have one too many options tugging at my heart.

  I yanked my hand away. “I see the hose.”