The future unfolded before me. Marina would spread the story hither and yon. A parade of people would traipse through the store, gawking at my wounds, begging me to tell the story over and over again. No one would buy a single book, and I wouldn’t get a thing done.
I extracted myself from Marina’s clutches. “Lois, can you watch the store?” I dragged Marina to my office and shut the door. “Tell me you didn’t blog about last night.”
“Not yet.” She pursed her lips. “I’m trying to think of the best way to start it. How does this sound? ‘Local business owner defies death.’ Or how about ‘Courageous Rynwood woman lives to fight another day.’ Or—”
“Don’t you dare post anything about this.”
“Of course I won’t. But just think if I did.” Her cheeks glowed with color.
There was a knock, and Lois popped her head in. “Beth, there’s a gentleman to see you.”
Before I could tell her to send whoever it was away, Evan Garrett came in. “Good morning, Beth. Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were in a meeting.”
His gaze fell on my hands. “Oh, my God. Beth.” He took hold of my shoulders and looked into my upturned face. “Are you all right?” He kissed my forehead, then pulled back and searched my eyes. “You’re in pain, I can tell. Here.” He hooked his foot around the leg of a chair and drew it near. “Sit.”
“I’m fine,” I said, pulling free of him. “Marina, this is Evan Garrett. Evan, Marina Neff.”
They nodded, and Marina shot me a you’ve-been-holding-out-on-me look. “Evan and I,” I said, “went to kindergarten together. He bought the hardware a few weeks ago.”
“Kindergarten?” Marina’s eyes narrowed to small slits, and I knew I’d be grilled later on.
Evan paid no attention to the feminine undercurrents swirling about. He was gently turning my hands this way and that. “How on earth did this happen? A car accident?”
Excellent idea. A car crash could explain all sorts of bizarre injuries. Anyone would believe a car crash story. This would work. All I had to do was convince Lois I’d been in a car accident, work on getting Marina to spread a car-crash story, and make sure Gus and Deputy Wheeler didn’t release my name to the press. Piece of cake.
“Hah.” Marina tossed her hair back. “This young lady was almost murdered last night.”
“What?” Evan went still.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Maybe sitting down wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I groped for the back of the chair and sat. “If he’d wanted to kill me, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“What!” Evan’s voice rose. “Who? Your ex-husband? Have you told the police? You’ll need a restraining order.” His former profession was rearing its legal head. “Let’s go. The paperwork takes a while, but you’ll be safer in the long run.”
I wanted to drop my head into my hands, but I didn’t want to undo the carefully taped gauze. Instead, I closed my eyes and wished they’d both disappear.
“It wasn’t her husband,” Marina said. “It was the guy who killed Agnes Mephisto.”
“The school principal?” Evan looked from Marina to an unresponsive me, then back to Marina. “What’s going on here?”
Marina launched into an extravagant version of what I’d done last night. Every time I tried to get her to stop, she overrode me. After three attempts, I quit trying. It was like trying to fight a tidal wave.
She concluded, “Beth made her way to a telephone and called 911.”
I opened one eye. Evan was crouched in front of me, his mouth firmed into a straight line. “Why were you in Agnes’s house?”
Trust a lawyer to get to the crux of the matter. “Cleaning up,” I said lamely.
“No, you weren’t.” Evan touched one of my earlobes. It was burning hot. “What were you doing?”
I didn’t say anything. Marina, for a change, didn’t say anything, either.
“Are you two investigating the murder?” he asked.
I closed the open eye.
“You are, aren’t you? Leave this to the police,” he ordered. “They’re trained for it. They get paid for it. It’s why we have police. Investigations into murder aren’t for amateurs. You could get hurt.”
No kidding.
“Beth.” His courtroom-hard voice was suddenly soft. “Don’t you see? I don’t want you in danger. I care about you. Please leave this to the police.” He cupped my cheek with his palm. “Please.” His lips brushed my hair, and he left.
I opened my eyes in time to see Marina fold her arms. “Well, well, well,” she said. “Isn’t he the handsome one?”
“Don’t start. All I’ve done is go to lunch with him a couple of times. He hasn’t even met the kids yet.”
“Really?” She put ten pounds of doubt into the two syllables. “He’s acting awfully possessive for someone you barely know.”
In some ways I barely knew him; in other ways I’d known him most of my life.
“For uno momento,” Marina said, “he sounded like Richard.”
I frowned. “He did, didn’t he?” Matter of fact, he’d treated me like a bubbleheaded female who didn’t have the sense to kick off her shoes if she fell into deep water.
“Um, you’re not going to give up, are you?” Marina sounded unsure, scared, and small, and I longed to have my confident friend back.
Evan had assumed he could tell me what to do. And why? Because he was bigger and stronger and a lawyer? Hah. There was nothing lawyers could do that children’s bookstore owners couldn’t do better.
Give up? I looked at Marina. “Not a chance.”
The doorbell of Agnes’s house chimed. Spot leaped up from the living room floor and burst into a flurry of barking. “Nice job,” I told him. “If Mr. Grip comes back and rings the doorbell, we’ll have plenty of time to hide.”
Standing on the front stoop was a stocky balding man. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Pete Peterson of Cleaner Than Pete. You’re Beth?”
At the hospital, Gus had given me the name of a Madison cleaning company that did forensic work. I’d called Gloria, squirmed as I’d told her most of the truth, and gotten her okay to hire someone to clean up the mess. “Sure, what do I care?” she’d said morosely. “Have them send the bill up here. It’ll get paid when the lawyers get done lawyering.”
“Yes.” I stood aside and waved Pete in. “Thanks for coming out on a Thursday night.”
“No problem,” he said. “Hey there, pup.” He leaned over and ruffled Spot’s ears. “What’s your name, big guy?”
“Spot,” I said.
Pete gave me a startled look, then laughed. “About time someone named a dog Spot. Don’t suppose you have a Rover, too?”
“Just a cat. George.”
“Good cat name.” He gave Spot one last pat and straightened. If he’d stood as tall as he could, he might have been an inch taller than my five foot five. His gaze flicked to my hands, then back to my face. “What do you need help with?”
I gave him a bonus point for not asking any questions and showed him around the house. “It all needs cleaning, and I just don’t have the time.” Or the energy. “How long do you think it will take?”
He ran a critical gaze over the mess. “Three hours, tops. I can do it tonight, if you want.”
“Will that cost extra?” I didn’t want to spend any more of Gloria’s money than I could help.
“Nah.” He smiled easily, and I found myself smiling back. It was the first time I’d smiled all day.
“Sounds great,” I said. “I’ll be in the master bedroom if you have any questions.”
My former splinters were aching as I tied up a garbage bag. “Almost done,” I said to Spot. “One more room and we can pick up the kids.” Despite their pleas to see Agnes’s messy house, I’d left them with Marina and a new bag of gourmet popcorn.