Heather Webber - Digging Up Trouble

A broken pipe. On the second floor.

“Just thought I’d let you know. I’ll let you get back to work now. Ta!”

“Trouble?” Kate asked when she saw my face.

I wanted to laugh. Could this day get any worse?

“Nothing the insurance can’t cover, apparently.”

“Oh.”

Cops streamed from the Grabinsky doorway. Across the yard, I saw Meredith Adams staring at me. I wanted to stick my tongue out. I restrained.

“This is all so sad,” Dale said. He held Kate protectively, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. The sun glinted off his wedding ring.

A ring I’d seen before.

In Greta’s kitchen.

Close up I could see the unusual design more clearly than I had the other day.

Platinum twigs intertwined to form a beautiful floating band. Kate, I suddenly noticed, had a matching one.

“We love to hike. We love nature of all kinds,” Kate said.

I must have looked confused.

“The wedding rings. I saw you looking at Dale’s.”

“They’re beautiful.” I looked up at Dale.

“Custom made,” he said. “Nothing but the best for Kate.”

Russ had been blackmailing Dale.

Dale had threatened Greta.

I looked at Kate. Did she know?

I wondered what it was Russ had on Dale. He looked 164

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like a loving husband, but I knew looks could be deceiving.

Had it been Dale who trashed the Grabinsky house?

Had Greta been murdered after all? What had Dale said to Greta? Something about her paying dearly?

“I’m going to go,” I said.

They went back to their house too. I managed to find Baby Face and had him move his patrol car. Before I left, I grabbed a bottle of spring water from my truck, crossed the police line, and poured it into the pot of pansies on the porch. I didn’t want another thing to die at this house.

I backed out of the driveway and started driving, realizing I was shaking.

It had been one of those days. I needed some food, some Advil, some comfort, a hug.

It wasn’t until I was almost there that I realized where I was going.

Bobby.

Nineteen

By four-fifteen I was in a seriously bad mood.

Bobby wasn’t to be found, the Advil hadn’t worked, nothing looked or sounded good enough to eat, and there was no one around to hug.

Well, there was Brickhouse, but I had my limits.

Too bad Kit wasn’t there. The man gave the best hugs ever.

I looked around my office. Two design boards leaned against my desk, which was cluttered with site plans and designs.

To add insult to my day, when I’d visited Derrick Brandt at the nursery, I learned that Jean-Claude hadn’t placed the orders I needed. Luckily, with what Derrick had in stock, we were able to salvage my design plans.

I’d come back to the office for my appointments and learned that my two o’clock had bailed on me after hearing the news reports of Russ’s death.

Thankfully, the young couple who came in at three was very enthusiastic and excited about doing a yard for the young woman’s mother.

I double-checked that I had the written permission of at least one homeowner (the girl’s father) before I took them on.

Jean-Claude, Jean Claude.

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I rubbed my temples. What was I going to do?

Grabbing my cell phone, I punched in Ana’s number, waited while it rang.

“Ana Bertoli,” she chirped.

“You sound happy.”

“Shakes and I are talking.”

“Shakes?”

“S. Larue’s nickname. I can live with Shakes. It’s kind of cute.”

“Talking? Are you back together?”

“Not yet, but we’re working on it. You sound like crap,”

she said. “What’s wrong?”

She knew me too well to hide anything. “Too long to get into.”

“Want me to come over tonight?”

If she and S. Larue were talking, I thought that maybe she’d have other plans. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yep. Hey, did you ever hear from that bartender?”

“Jake? He was cute, wasn’t he?”

“Shakes,” I reminded.

“I can look.”

“No you can’t. You’re easily distracted.”

“I take exception to that.”

“No you don’t.”

“You’re right. Nope, haven’t heard from Jake. Why? Has JC disappeared again?”

“Ugh. Don’t call him that.”

“Why? It’s . . . cute.”

“You’re in a cute mood.”

“Love is in the air.”

I wanted to gag.

“Are you gagging?”

“I’m close.”

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“Why? You’ve got Bo-bby.”

Why did everyone singsong his name? “He might be leaving.”

“What? Spill!”

I explained about the transfer.

“Stop thinking about how Kevin would feel.”

Leave it to Ana to cut to the heart of the matter.

“It’s not up to him. It’s your life, Nina.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Kind of.” Argh.

“I’ll be over at eight.”

“No, no. I’m fine.”

“I’ll bring Phish Food.”

“All right.” I’m easily swayed by Ben & Jerry’s.

“Besides, I want to see your bedroom. I hear it’s gorgeous.”

“It is. But the bathroom . . .”

“Bathroom?”

“You don’t want to know.”

We hung up, and I was clearing clutter (stuffing things in drawers) when Brickhouse appeared in my doorway.

She clucked.

I closed my eyes, thought about thunking my head on my desk until I was unconscious. I didn’t have the energy for Brickhouse right now.

When I opened my eyes, she was right in front of my desk, a bowl in her hands. She set it in front of me.

“Eat.”

I peeked into the bowl. The smell that rose up on waves of steam made my stomach growl.

There were things in there I couldn’t identify. Little bits of pudgy rice-shaped pasta for one. The spices for another. I recognized the carrots, the celery, the bits of ground beef.

“What is it?”

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“Soup.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“It’s an old family recipe.” She set a plastic spoon next to the bowl. “Now eat.”

I looked up, trying to gauge why she was being nice to me, and thought I saw a flash of maternal worry before her eyes switched back to their normal blue steel.

“Thanks,” I said, nearly choking on the word. Me, thank-ing Brickhouse Krauss. I never thought I’d see the day.

She nodded and walked out the door.

I scooped, I sipped, I mmmm ed. It was very, very good.

I just hoped it wasn’t poisoned.

Inside Growl, people stood four deep in lines. There were three people working the registers. Two looked like they could have been Goosh’s brother and sister.

I stood there twirling my key chain on my finger until Riley noticed me. He gave me the one-finger wait-a-minute sign again. I pointed down the hallway that led to the restrooms.

He nodded.

I didn’t see Noreen, and according to Tam, Bill had gone home early. This was the perfect time to check his office, see if those accounting books had miraculously turned up.

Black ceramic tile led me to the ladies’ room. I stopped, looked over my shoulder, and sprinted down the rest of the hallway toward the Employees Only door, Keds squeaking, keys jangling.

Pushing on the swinging door, I peeked in. Didn’t see anyone. Slipping through the opening, I looked around.

To my right, a short hallway led to the kitchen area and what looked like a break room. Someone stood with their back to me, chopping tomatoes.

There was an office to the left, the light off, the door open.

I ducked in, closed the door, turned on the light.

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The office was split down the middle by a partition. Each half matched the other, right down to the heavy oak desk and steel trash can. Two small supply closets faced each other on opposite walls.