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Chapter Eight

That's a convenient coincidence.

TOP SECRET TWENTY-ONE—
JANET EVANOVICH

L
izzie's first appointment at the school the next morning wasn't until eleven o'clock. She debated about going to Molly's but thought she needed more information about the investigation before tackling Darla again. A phone call to Mark was in order.

She tried his cell phone and after the third ring he answered with, “No, I'm not about to share any information with you, Lizzie.”

“Huh. And good morning to you, too. Just for that, Mark Dreyfus, you're going to have to allow me to buy you a coffee.”

Mark laughed. “You're on. How about tonight?”

“How about in an hour?”

“I can't get away.”

“I'll come to you bearing gifts.”

Mark sighed. “A short visit and no questions.”

“A short visit with not too many questions but a large latte.”

“Sweet.”

“I always am.” Lizzie hung up and hummed while she dressed in a short black skirt with a tangerine T-shirt. She found the cats lazing on top of the love seat backrest, in the sun streaming through the window. She grabbed a comb for Edam and the brush for Brie and tried to do a two-handed grooming session. She gave up after a few seconds and gave Edam a thorough combing, luxuriating in the soft warmth of his fur. Then it was Brie's turn. He was more playful and ended up chewing on the edge of the brush. Lizzie finally gave up and left them to enjoy the sunbathing.

By the time she'd picked up two lattes and a couple of chocolate biscotti at the Cup'n Choc down the street from the police station, it was nine thirty. Mark stood at the front desk in the waiting room, speaking to the volunteer on desk duty when she walked through the doors. Lizzie stayed close to the door she'd just entered, watching Mark. He still managed to take her breath away. She'd never told him how sexy she found the fact that he'd chosen to go bald. And he still had the physique of the high school football hero he'd once been. But most of all, it was his dark chocolate eyes, so expressive and yet so liquidy deep, that most times when he looked at her, she felt herself melting.

Mark finished giving instructions to the older woman and ushered Lizzie into his office. He gave her a quick kiss and then removed the lid from the coffee container.

“I do have sweets,” Lizzie said, holding out the small brown bag.

“You may stay,” Mark said with a smile.

“That's good, because that was my plan.” Lizzie sat on the upholstered chair at the side of Mark's desk, while he
pulled his leather swivel chair over beside her and sat. He took a long drink of his coffee before talking.

“I'm afraid I really don't have long so just tell me what you want to know.”

Lizzie grinned. “I thought I couldn't ask any questions.”

“I know how this plays out so I'm just skipping to the end. Shoot.”

“Do you have any more details about the murder?”

“Not much and not much that I can share.”

“Seriously?”

“It's all technical stuff, Lizzie. I do know though that the victim is Rafe Shannon and that he's from Atlanta.”

“We knew that yesterday.”

Mark grimaced. “Can I continue? Furthermore, we now know that he is known to the police there. It seems he has ties with some local hoods in Atlanta. He's worked as a bouncer at one of the casinos and he also likes to do odd jobs for bookies.”

“Yikes. Sounds like bad news. Which begs the question, how did you find out his name? I thought he didn't have any ID on him.”

“He didn't.”

“So how?”

“Not going there.” Mark sounded stubborn but he did allow her a small smile.

“Okay, so how come Darla knows someone like that?”

“According to her, she doesn't.”

“She's still saying that? You didn't beat it out of her?” Lizzie asked, eyebrows raised in question.

“No. My rubber hose is out for repairs at the moment.” Mark got serious. “I don't believe her but I'm not going to accuse her of lying just yet. I want to get some more facts from her hometown first.”

“Good. That should speed things up.”

“Glad you approve.” He leaned back in his chair and enjoyed another sip. “Has she told Molly anything about her home life or more about why she's here?”

“Not as far as I know. What if there wasn't a blowup with her mama? What if there's a more sinister reason she's here?”

“Something to do with our dead guy?”

“I was thinking more something to do with Bob. But he's not rich so it's not likely she's ingratiating herself into his life for his money.”

“You really don't like her, do you?”

Lizzie thought for a moment. “It's not that I don't like her. I just don't trust her. And I'm worried that Bob will get hurt in some way.”

“He's a grown man, Lizzie. He can take care of himself.”

“This is his granddaughter we're talking about. It's not like he's chasing the bad guys or choosing a new car.”

“Ouch. Okay, I get it. You are concerned, and I also don't like the idea that she might be playing him. But like you said, he doesn't have any money so that doesn't make sense. Maybe she's a young girl who wants to get to know her family. And she's also in trouble.” He looked at his watch. “Sorry but I've got to get going. There are some people I need to talk to.”

Lizzie finished her latte and tucked her untouched biscotti back in the bag and placed it on his desk. “For snackies.” She grabbed her handbag.

“I'll call you tonight,” Mark said as she opened the door. “And thanks for the treats.”

Lizzie thought about their conversation all the way to the school. If Darla was in some serious trouble back home, had it followed her to Ashton Corners? She tried to come up with some scenarios that might work but nothing seemed to fit.
At least, nothing she thought about. There were some places she just didn't want to go with this.

*   *   *

A
fter school, Lizzie drove over to Molly's, anxious to find out more about her houseguest. She found Molly out front, clipping back the boxwoods that grew along the sides of the porch. Although Molly's gardener came in regularly, she enjoyed keeping a hand in it, too. As Lizzie got out of her car, Teensy's yellow Cadillac pulled in beside her. Teensy bounced out of her car and gave Lizzie a quick hug, on her way over to Molly, who got an even longer hug.

“I'm glad you're both here,” Teensy said before anyone else had a chance to talk. “I've just been going over this here incident in my mind and I'm thinking you shouldn't be staying here alone, Molly.”

“But I'm not alone,” Molly pointed out.

“Humpf. That child in no way is protection for you.” She glanced at the front door and lowered her voice to a whisper. “And who's to say she's not the cause of all this?”

“What a thing to say,” Molly answered, in a shocked voice. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because she just arrives in town, nobody knows anything about her and a couple of days later, a guy who she's been seen to have contact with is found dead. You do the math.”

“There's no reason to believe any of it is more than coincidence,” Molly stated and went back to her clipping.

“Is she at home?” Teensy asked.

“Yes but she's been staying in her room all day. She's upset, which is understandable.”

“Of course she's upset. She knew the guy.” Teensy threw up her hands in exasperation.

Lizzie thought it was time to step in before tempers started
to flare. “There's no real reason to think she's involved in anything, Teensy.”

“But you're the one who saw her with that guy.”

“Yes, and what I saw sort of reinforces what she said happened. She did try to get away from him.”

“And now he's dead. And why in your backyard, Molly? What was he doing there in the first place if not here to see her again?”

Molly dropped her clippers to the ground and stood up to face Teensy. “Not so loud, if you please. There's no need to be upsetting Darla even more than she is.” Molly took a deep breath. Lizzie could tell she was trying hard to hold her temper in check. Molly reached out and grabbed Teensy's hand. “I appreciate the fact that you're concerned about my welfare, Teensy, but it really is misplaced. You have to trust me on that.”

Teensy sighed and her shoulders hunched forward a fraction. “You're right, I suppose. But you're also right that I do worry about you, Mopsy. Now don't go getting mad but I want to know if she's given you any further explanation about the guy.”

“No, she hasn't wanted to talk about it at all. And I take that to mean nothing more than she's upset by the whole thing. Who wouldn't be? Accosted by this stranger one day and the next, he's found dead almost outside her door?”

“Your door,” Lizzie said quietly. “He must have followed her to your house, Molly. Why else would he be here?”

Molly shrugged. “I don't know. The police don't know. So for now, let it be. Come on. Let's go around back and have some tea. Enjoy the afternoon sun.”

Lizzie and Teensy waited outside, seated on the wicker patio chairs, while Molly went in to wash up and get the tea. She came out several minutes later with a tray holding three
glasses, a small pitcher of iced tea and a plate of lemon melt-away cookies.

“I asked Darla if she'd like to join us but she declined,” Molly said as she poured the tea. “Now, better get it all off your chest, Teensy. And Lizzie.” She sat down and angled her chair to face them both.

Lizzie looked at Teensy, who raised her eyebrows. Lizzie decided to take that as an invitation to take the lead.

“Has Darla said anything more these past few days about what happened at home? Why she came here?”

Molly looked thoughtful. “No, not really. She's mainly been asking questions and of course, wanting to know more about Bob. That's natural, don't you think?”

“Of course. Have they been spending a lot of time together?”

“I think they should be spending more time but Bob's moving slowly.”

“Why do you think he's doing that?”

“Because he's scared. Here he hasn't had any contact with any of his family all these years and now this bright young girl comes along. He's not sure what all she's been told about him, although I'll bet he's thinking it's not very nice, and he's worried about scaring her off. So, it's been good that she's been staying here. I've tried to do things with her, show her around town and the like, but it hasn't been easy. So, I finally thought I'd just let her set her own pace about it all.”

The back door opened with a small creak and Darla asked, “Have you ladies been talking about me?” She had an odd smile on her face.

Lizzie was quick to reassure her. “More like talking about Bob and how happy he is to have you here. You really can't imagine.”

Darla shrugged and walked over to join them. She held
a glass of red wine in her right hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. She sat downwind from them. “I'll try not to blow smoke in your faces,” she said after setting her glass on the table and lighting a cigarette.

She's surveying the place like she owns it.
Where did that thought come from, Lizzie wondered.

“Have you had a chance to walk the maze yet?” she asked, trying to dispel her own discomfort.

Darla didn't bother looking at Lizzie. “No. It really is a big place, isn't it?”

No one answered. They just sat watching Darla, who finally turned slightly so that she could see the others. “What's it like, living in a small town?”

“I was born and raised here,” Lizzie said, “but I went to college in Auburn and after that, worked in Montgomery for a short while. They were big in comparison but not a large as Atlanta.”

Darla smirked. “Atlanta's a real city with lots going on, day and night. I think I'd go antsy living here.”

“I didn't realize you were contemplating doing that, sugar,” commented Teensy, her voice dripping Southern, a tone Lizzie knew meant Teensy had reached her saturation point. Next stop, speaking her mind.

“Were you working?” Lizzie asked quickly.

“Sometimes. I didn't have a permanent job, if that's what you're asking. I couldn't find what suited me. My last job was as a server at a bar.” Darla drank some wine and looked pensive. “Mama wasn't too happy about that, either.”

“Every mama wants what they think is best for their children,” Molly said.

“I suppose. But not everyone can marry a rich banker, like my grandmamma. And as for my mama, she's never even told me who my daddy is. The story always was that he had
to go out of town on business and died in a car accident before they could get married but I think that's just another load of crap. She married Jack Lyman when I was three. What a loser. He did adopt me though and then, he took off, too.”

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