Play That Funky Music White Koi (A Lemon Layne Mystery Book 2) Page 8

  Sure enough, it was a gold barrette, long and slender—definitely not something that would hold my wild mop of hair.

  Upon closer inspection, I noted it had hearts embossed over the surface. Absolutely not mine. I’m not a barrette person, but I’m for sure not a decorative heart barrette person.

  Then I realized I’d seen this very barrette recently, as I gathered it up and carried it inside, heading directly to my laptop. Going back to the pictures I’d seen in Thea’s album on her Facebook page, I scrolled them.

  And sure enough, there was the barrette nestled in Fran Little’s shoulder-length red hair in a close-up shot at a gathering labeled, “Fourth of July Shenanigans with The Gang, 2016.”

  I examined the picture carefully, noting the bright colors of their lawn chairs settled around a barbecue pit of some kind. Thea’s cute gamine face smiling wide as she sat on a small pillow on the ground, posing for the camera. Abby tipping her bottle of beer up with a wink. Rupert and Josiah, their fingers threaded together; Ivan and Albert stuffing hot dogs in their mouths, their eyes twinkling from the light of the barbecue pit.

  Double-checking, I made certain the barrette I had matched the one in Fran’s hair and nodded to myself.

  If Fran Little was still stuck in the Boise airport as of today and couldn’t make Josiah’s funeral yesterday—what the frack was her barrette doing in my front yard?

  Chapter 7

  Coco called again just as I was jumping into Lou-Lou and heading toward the station to hand over Fran Little’s barrette like the good, uninvolved citizen I am.

  I clicked speaker and pushed Lou-Lou into third gear just as I passed the long row of trees and woods separating our store from town. “Coco Belinski, what’s up with you this fine late afternoon? Did everything go okay at the store at lunch rush?”

  The crackling over the line intensified for a moment until I hit the clearing in the road to make the left into town. “Lunch rush was fine. Only one jerkface in about a hundred asked about vampires. To which, I told him if he didn’t get out, I’d show him what bloodsucking was all about. That’s not why I called. I’m calling to check and see if we’re still on for tonight at seven for dinner?”

  “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “Because I expected you to be knee-deep in crime solving and have forgotten all about my roast chicken with baby potatoes in favor of hard-boiled detective work,” she said on a giggle.

  Guilty. I had forgotten. But I recovered nicely.

  “Um, nope. I haven’t forgotten, and nope on the hard-boiled detective work, too. I’m keeping my nose clean.”

  Coco sighed, her rasp of air swirling in my ear. “Your restraint is killing you, isn’t it?”

  I wrinkled my nose and shook my head, resisting my urge to fess up. “Nope.”

  Or yep, depending on who you asked. The devil or the angel on each of my shoulders. Sure, I wanted to know what Fran Little’s barrette was doing in my yard when she was supposed to be in Boise, but I won’t ask because bad things happened the last time I asked around about a crime.

  “Uh-huh,” she said with her typical skepticism. “You do know one-word answers from you always mean you’re fighting with yourself over a dilemma, don’t you?”

  “No dilemma here. All I’m thinking about is your garlicky/lemony roast chicken with the crispy skin and those new potatoes that melt in my mouth. What herb do you use for those anyway? Is it basil?”

  “Tarragon, a sprinkle of thyme, a pinch of rosemary, and you’re full of stuffing.”

  “What’s that? You’re breaking up,” I teased. “Did you say stuffing, too? OMG—I hope it has raisins and apples in it. That’s my favorite.”

  “Lemon? Stop fighting the rush of the tide on my account.”

  “Coco? Stop encouraging me to get involved in something that could end up causing us grief and come make me and Mom some chicken for dinner. I’ll do dishes and the wine’s on me.”

  “It’s a date. Hey, where are you right now?”

  I looked around in guilt as I pulled into the station’s parking lot and eased into a space. Yet, I didn’t really have anything to feel guilty about, I reassured myself. So why did I feel so guilty?

  “I’m in town. Need something?”

  A horn honked next to Lou-Lou, startling me half to death.

  I looked to my right, prepared to give someone what for—to find Coco waving at me with a wide grin.

  As she hopped out of her cute red Golf, she knocked on Lou-Lou’s passenger window. I reached over to roll it down, feeling totally caught when I was only doing my civic duty.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me with laughing eyes. “So, what brings you to the police station, Lemon Layne? Could it be you’re in the midst of finagling clues out of our favorite cop?”

  I held up the Ziploc bag with Fran Little’s barrette. “Found this in the yard when I was minding my own business and sweeping the front porch. It’s not mine. I know it’s not yours or Mom’s, so I figured I’d bring it to Justice in case it’s evidence. And to think, I might never have seen it if it hadn’t been for the sun being in just the right position when I was getting ready to sweep. Swear, that’s all I was doing.”

  “Where’d you find it exactly? I know the forensics team was in the woods. Wait.” She reached into the car and grabbed my arm. “Please tell me you didn’t go into the woods, Lemon. I know I said I wasn’t going to nag you anymore, but I don’t want you in trouble for interfering in an investigation.”

  My hand flew up in a Girl Scout’s honor gesture. “Haven’t even looked in the direction of the woods. It was at the end of the path to the front steps of the house, half in, half out of the decorative grass and flowers.”

  Now Coco’s face changed from cautious to serious as she examined the barrette. “Who do you think it belongs to?”

  “Fran Little, one of Abby’s close friends. She was wearing it in a picture on Thea’s Facebook page.”

  “Oh, I know that name. She works at the insurance agency in town. Nice lady. You don’t think… I mean…”

  I shook my head vehemently as I got out of the car and leaned on the roof. “I’m not theorizing anything. But I have to admit, it’s certainly suspicious. I’m just here to drop this off to Justice or whoever’s in charge and then I’m out.”

  Coco rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek and came around to my side of the car, leaning back and crossing her ankles, her high-heel shoes shiny and blue. “How’d you know this belonged to Fran Little unless you’ve been snooping?”

  “I told you, I saw it on Thea’s Facebook pa…” I stopped short and gave her a guilty look, waiting for my lecture, because despite what she’d said about not nagging me, she was Coco after all.

  “As you snooped,” she said on a laugh, poking my arm. “I told you, I’m not going to nag you anymore. I just want you to be careful, and while you’re at it, admit you can’t resist getting involved.”

  I let out what felt like the longest-held breath in the history of holding one’s breath and threw my hands up in the air in defeat. “Okay, so I was snooping, and I can’t help but snoop because it’s in my blood and I mostly suck at it, as proven in the case of Myron’s murder. But it’s a compulsion I’m unable to control. I fought it all day long and it’s killing me. Like, literally, it’s all I can do not to bury myself in Facebook pages. I mean, Cappie and I found a dead woman in my koi pond, Coco. Almost right on top of Koi George. How am I just supposed to ignore that?”

  Wow, that felt good to say out loud.

  Coco smiled indulgently. “Now we’re getting somewhere. So, go do your thing and I’ll head over to the house to start dinner.”

  I hesitated. I didn’t know what to do with the feeling I’d gotten permission to snoop to my heart’s desire. I know that sounds crazy, to feel as though I’m getting permission from my BFF, but because I’d asked a lot of questions the last time and tipped off the killer, Coco was almost hurt. To have her tell me
I could go hog wild left me feeling freer than I had in a long time.

  She gave me a nudge and flapped her hands at me. “Go! Shoo-shoo, Gumshoe. Go detect.”

  I laughed at her as I gathered up my purse and stuffed the Ziploc bag under my arm. “See you back at the house!” I called as I almost tripped over my feet in my sheer joy.

  Making a run for the station doors, I weaved my way in and out of people roaming the streets, visiting shops and the boardwalk, and burst through the glass doors, barely able to contain my excitement.

  Stopping at the front desk, I waved to Thurman Wheeler and smiled. “Hey, Thurman, is Justice in?”

  He nodded his head as he rustled through papers before looking up at me. “How are you, anyway? Heard you found Abby Hoffer in your koi pond. Sorry about that.”

  “I’m fine, Thurman. How’s the wife?”

  “Pregnant and cranky,” he said on a laugh. “Lemme give a call back to Justice. Hang tight.”

  As Thurman announced my arrival, I cast a quick glance at the glass doors leading to the back of the station and saw Thea Valentine sitting next to Albert Miller, their heads bent as though in deep conversation.

  “Justice says you can go on in,” Thurman said, waving me toward the innards of the station.

  “Thanks, Thurman. Good seeing you.” I waved at him again and made my way toward the glass doors, hoping to avoid Thea and Albert for the moment.

  But Thea happened to look up the second I pushed through the doors. She hopped up off the chair and grabbed me by the arm, her face angry. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the one who found Abby?”

  Shoot. Probably because I was trying to stay out of it and not make waves? And besides that, I really wasn’t sure I was allowed to tell anyone.

  “Because we try to protect our witnesses, Miss Valentine, and we also asked her not to,” Justice’s deep voice resonated from behind me.

  They’d done no such thing, but I was sure grateful he’d said as much, thus saving my hide.

  I reached out and gripped Thea’s arm lightly. “I’m sorry, Thea. I figured I wasn’t allowed to talk about it, so I didn’t say anything.”

  But Thea was clearly too upset to accept any apologies. “And now they have us in here like common criminals, questioning us one by one, as though we’d ever hurt Abby! They just finished up with Rupert, the poor thing. He’s wrecked over Josiah’s death and then he’s subjected to four hours of questions? It’s dreadful!”

  Albert was instantly at Thea’s side, wrapping a pale arm around her waist. He leaned his silver head toward her blonde one and soothed, “Thea, c’mon now. You know they have to talk to us. It’s their job. It’s not Lemon’s fault, you know that. Stop lashing out. We were all close to Abby. Maybe something we know might help them find out how she died. I don’t know about you, but I want to find out what the heck happened after we left her last night.”

  Justice addressed them with a curt nod and a hitch of his jaw toward the chairs they’d abandoned. “We’ll be with you folks shortly. If you’ll just have a seat.” Then he turned to me. “Lemon, c’mon back.”

  We threaded our way through the desks in the pit, and I waved and smiled at some of the people I knew on the force as Justice led me to a small cubicle and pointed to his ratty office. He leaned against the mint-green wall with a dozen or so thumb-tacked sticky notes on it and cocked his head in question. “What’s up?”

  Sighing, I took a moment to appreciate Justice’s workspace, with pictures of him and his parents, and even some of me and Coco, tacked to the wall. All lined up and as well ordered as he was.

  That was when I saw the plastic Gumby doll, leaning against a mug from Seattle.

  “You still have this? I gave that to you what seems like a hundred years ago.” Or tenth grade.

  He chuckled and smoothed his hands over his trousers. “Yeah, I kept it. I thought we were going to end up spending your college fund while you tried to win it. It had value and your grit and determination written all over it.”

  I laughed at the memory. I’d been so determined to win a teddy bear at the fair that year, I’d spent almost all of my babysitting money throwing rings at a bottle. But Justice had stuck it out with me—which is why I gave him Gumby.

  How funny he still had the plastic figure. “We were there for two hours, remember? Almost till the place closed. And all I got was that stupid Gumby doll.”

  His eyes brightened for a moment then the veil of secrecy shadowed them again. “I definitely remember. So, what’s up?”

  I held up the Ziploc bag. “This. Found it in the front yard today when I was sweeping the porch, and it’s not mine or Coco’s.”

  He took the bag and held it up for a moment, eyeballing it, then set it on the desk as though it were no big deal. “Thanks. I’ll hand it off to the forensic team.”

  I felt deflated as phones rang all around me and people chattered. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

  He threw up his wide hands in aggravation, making the cubicle wall wobble a little. “What am I supposed to say, Lemon? You brought me something you think might be a piece of evidence, and I appreciate it. What else is there?”

  “No. I know it’s a piece of evidence, Justice Carver. I saw that very barrette in Fran Little’s hair in a picture on Thea’s Facebook page. She’s one of several of Abby’s old college friends, part of this afterlife/paranormal group thing they had going, and was supposedly stuck in Boise at the airport last night.”

  Now he grinned and nodded knowingly. “I wondered how long the no-snooping vow would last. That wasn’t even twenty-four hours, Miss Layne.”

  “Whatever. Listen, why was that in my front yard if Fran Little’s stuck at the Boise airport?”

  “Well, I can’t say for sure, Detective Layne, but I can say for sure Fran Little was and still is in the Boise airport. We just got confirmation on that. There’s some big storm going on there. She’s been at that very airport since yesterday afternoon. Way before Abby was found, and because you found her this morning, but she was still alive as late as ten last night, there’s no way Fran could have had anything to do with it.”

  Well, scratch that suspect off the list. Now I really was deflated. “Is it officially being labeled a murder? Any news on what Abby died of yet?”

  “Hey, Justice.” My ex-charge, Cory, poked his head around the corner without even seeing me and held up a piece of paper. “Just got this back from Vern. Chief asked me to run it over to you. Abby Hoffer died of asphyxiation. Vern says she had pieces of colored fiber in her nose and mouth. Orange was the color, he said. Probably from a—”

  Justice rasped an aggravated sigh, cutting Cory off, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he pointed to my presence in the room with a frown.

  Poor Cory turned green again as he shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry, Justice. Man, I’m batting a thousand today.”

  I jumped up from the chair and shook my head, patting Cory on the shoulder. “You’re fine, Cory. I didn’t hear a single word you said. In fact, do we even know each other?” I joked.

  “Cory, you have to be more careful,” Justice said, his voice a hard edge of irritation.

  “Aw, lighten up, Justice. He couldn’t even see me. Let him be. I won’t say a word, and if you know anything about me, you know my word is good. Now, I’m going to go home. Will we see you for dinner tonight, or are you knee-deep in the murder of Abby Hoffer?”

  “We haven’t labeled it a murder yet, Lemon,” he warned, his voice tight.

  “Right. Because Abby stuffed something made of fabric down her own throat and asphyxiated herself? You say tomato, I say tomatoe.”

  That made him smile, his grin wide and white. “I probably won’t make dinner tonight. But maybe later in the week.”

  “Good enough. You two play nice. See you guys later.”

  I left the cubicle and moseyed my way back to toward the entry to the station, noting Thea and Albert were gone and Ivan Peters was in their place.
I had a mind to sit down next to him and start asking questions, because my mind was racing, but I knew better than to do so where Justice could catch me.

  Abby Hoffer had been asphyxiated—a.k.a suffocated. So the killer had probably nailed her with the Taser then suffocated her with something that left behind fibers. Suffocation’s surely a crime of rage, right?

  I needed to find out where the fibers that had been in Abby’s nose and mouth came from. But it was likely impossible because no one was going to just give up that information—most especially to me.

  Pushing my way out the station’s doors, I moved into the late afternoon sun and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the water and suntan lotion.

  That was when I caught sight of Rupert George out on the docks, sitting on a bench. He was easy to spot because he was completely overdressed in a well-tailored suit and his shiny shoes, while everyone around him sported sandals and multicolored summer wear.

  I decided to see if he was all right, mostly because he’d been so upset with me this morning and I needed to apologize for causing him such distress.

  I knew what it felt like to lose the love of your life. It hurt—so, so much.

  Crossing the street, I strolled along the dock, listening to the seagulls cry and soaking up the warm sun. I approached Rupert with care, trying to read his body language before he noticed I was observing him.

  He looked defeated, the lines on his handsome face drawn and tight, his eyes staring sightlessly off into the abyss of water and mountains surrounding Fig.

  As I sat quietly beside him, he almost didn’t look up at first, but his misery was such that it rattled my bones. Still, I didn’t say anything. I knew his pain—knew it, lived it, allowed it to consume me at one point.

  “You know, we’d known each other off and on since our college days, but we didn’t officially start dating until an alumni reunion.”

  I nodded, letting him just talk. Sometimes that helped. Other times, not so much. “Thea said as much.”

  “All that time in school together and we never suspected the other was gay. Funny, isn’t it?”