Heather Webber - Digging Up Trouble

“No, she’s usually late. I’m used to it.”

174

Heather Webber

Hmmph.

Footsteps faded.

“Get some rest, Noreen. Take as much time off as you need.”

Maybe Bill wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

“I’m just going to grab my purse and go. I ran out of here so fast this afternoon, I forgot it.”

“I’m really sorry about Greta.”

“Me too.” Noreen’s voice cracked, and I felt my throat tighten with sympathy.

I heard some rustling of clothes and imagined Bill giving Noreen a hug.

“Call when you’re ready to come back. I’ll put you on the schedule.”

“All right.”

I heard papers shuffling, then a cell phone ringing. I pan-icked until I realized it wasn’t mine. Mine was in my backpack, and that was in the truck.

“Lockhart . . . Yeah, tonight’s fine. My supply is really low.” He laughed. “Yes, business is good, especially now that Russ is out of the picture.”

There went my opinion of Bill, once and for all. Okay, so it wasn’t an admission that he’d had something to do with Russ’s death, but it was clear enough he’d wanted Russ gone.

Enough to formulate an elaborate plan to give the man a heart attack?

I listened to Bill make arrangements for something to be delivered that night. I thought I heard him leave the room, but couldn’t be sure.

How would I be sure? I couldn’t see through the cracks in the door frame. I certainly wasn’t Superman. Woman.

Whatever.

I decided to stay hidden until I hadn’t heard Bill for ten minutes.

Digging Up Trouble

175

My thigh throbbed and I desperately wanted to move, to readjust. Then my eye caught that envelope again.

I wiggled slowly, trying not to make a sound, and reached for the envelope. It took some doing, some praying, and lots of patience, but I finally freed it.

A metal clasp bit into my finger as I lifted the flap. Inside were two business-size envelopes. I pulled them out, held them each up to the streak of light.

Each said the same thing in a strange typed font. “Bill Lockhart. Personal.”

My eyebrow went up. Interesting.

There was no way I could read the letters without making a ruckus, so I did the next best thing.

Stole them.

Really, I had to talk with Father Keesler soon.

It took more patience than I thought I had, but I finally got the manila envelope back where it had come from, and stuffed the two other envelopes down my shirt, which was thankfully tucked in.

After exactly ten minutes by my trusty Timex, I pressed my ear to the door to listen for noise just as it swung open. I fell out in a ball onto someone’s feet, my limbs not realizing they were free.

I looked up into accusing eyes.

Twenty

“You can stop saying sorry,” Riley said, climbing into my TBS truck, “and start telling me why you were in Bill’s office in the first place.”

“When does driver’s ed end? Maybe we can look at some used cars.” I held out my hand for my keys. Sure enough, Riley had them. He dropped them into my palm.

“Don’t try to distract me,” he said. “What were you doing in Bill’s closet?”

This was surreal. Grilling from a teenager.

“Research,” I said. “On mushrooms.”

He stared.

He did it well.

I cracked. “I was looking for something.”

“What kind of something? Does this have to do with Ebenezer’s death?”

Did it?

“I don’t know.”

I started the engine, turned toward home.

“I bet Dad would want to know what you were doing in that closet.”

I shot him a you wouldn’t look.

He gave me an oh yes I would.

Digging Up Trouble

177

“Go ahead and tell him.”

That took him by surprise. Little did he know I had a greater fear of being blackmailed by him than facing Kevin.

Mom.

I wondered now if he’d said it as a ploy. That he knew I’d been in the closet and it was his way of telling me he knew I was in there.

Because it was just so out of character.

And . . . familial.

As I turned toward home, I decided not to ask. Too des -

perate.

“Well, did you find it?”

“No.”

But I’d found something else. Those letters. I hoped they were worth the pain. My legs were still cramping.

“Why’d it take you so long to come get me?” I asked.

“I figured you’d come out when Bill left.”

“I didn’t know for certain if Bill had left! One minute he’s on the phone making plans for a delivery tonight, and the next thing I know it’s quiet. Is he doing paperwork? Napping? I couldn’t just come out.”

“A delivery tonight?”

“That’s what I heard. Why?”

“We only get deliveries in the morning. That’s strange.”

That was strange.

These last few days had been strange.

“Maybe mushrooms?” I said. “It looked like there was a barrel missing from that closet.”

There was an odd look on Riley’s face. “Maybe.”

“What maybe? Do you know something?”

“Maybe.”

“Riley Michael.”

“Nina Colette.”

I growled.

178

Heather Webber

He glared.

This was getting us nowhere.

“You tell me what you were doing in that closet, and I’ll tell you what I think I might know.”

I said, “This isn’t Let’s Make a Deal. ”

“That was a cool show—I watch it on the Game Show Network. I wish it were still on. I’d go as a banana.”

“Now you’re trying to distract me.”

“Maybe.”

I turned onto my street and nearly crashed into a tree, I was so distracted by what was in my driveway.

A Dumpster.

With my bathtub in it.

“Looks like Grandma Cel has been busy.”

I parked at the curb, behind Maria’s Mercedes.

As I opened my car door I caught sight of Mr. Cabrera and Boom-Boom speeding down the street in her golf cart.

She braked to a stop in my driveway behind the Dumpster.

“Having some work done, Miz Quinn?”

“I guess so, Mr. Cabrera.”

“Need help?”

Maybe of the psychiatric kind, but I didn’t think that’s what he had in mind. “Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

Boom-Boom stood with Riley, inspecting his arm. I walked over to them, and she said, “I really am sorry about this.”

“He’s no worse for the wear,” I said, wondering if that was a cliché. I decided not. I’d had a rough enough day already.

“I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that or not,” Riley said.

Mr. Cabrera clapped him on the back. “Or not.”

“When are you guys coming to Growl? Remember, dinner’s on me.”

Digging Up Trouble

179

“I couldn’t,” Boom-Boom tittered.

I didn’t think it was possible to titter, but it was. And she did.

“Come on, you have to. I promised. And I never break my promises.”

Unlike his father. Which got me to thinking about Kevin.

And Bobby.

I missed him. Bobby, that is. Not Kevin. And I’d just seen him last night. Bobby, not Kevin.

What did this tell me?

“When are you working again?” Mr. Cabrera asked.

“Wednesday night. Five until closing at ten.”

“We’ll be there. It’s a date.”

Boom-Boom giggled and clasped onto Mr. Cabrera.

I couldn’t help myself. “Did Riley tell you, Mr. Cabrera?”

“Tell him what?” Riley asked.

“That Mrs. Krauss is working for me temporarily? While Tam is out on leave?”

The color drained from Boom-Boom’s face.

“How could I have told him that?” Riley asked. “I’m just now— Ow! Why’d you step on my foot?”

“Did I?” I asked. “Sorry.”