my arm, waited outside the cottage for Cheryl.
Heath came down the walkway at a fast clip, grabbed my arm, and pulled me behind a bush. “I don’t have much time. Officer Lawrence is talking to Alice.”
“What’s happening?” I searched his face.
“They found my other glove in the pond with Dave.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would one glove be by Maybelle and one by Dave? Only an idiot would make that mistake twice.”
“It still doesn’t look good for me.”
“Are they arresting you?”
He shrugged. “Lawrence hinted at such. It all depends on Alice’s endorsement.”
I stepped back. “Why?”
“Didn’t you know? She’s Lawrence’s niece. They’re close. If she’ll vouch for me, then he’s agreed to not lock me up on her say so.”
What kind of police force did this town have? “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“I have to go.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Keep trying to clear my name, okay? I’ll catch up with you at lunch, if I’m still a free man.” He whirled and jog-limped back to the main building.
When I stepped around the corner, Cheryl was waiting, arms crossed, a scowl on her face. “I was about to give up on you.”
I told her what Heath had said. “Isn’t that strange? I didn’t know cops worked that way.”
“They work however they want. Let’s start knocking. Maybe we’ll find out something to help your boyfriend.”
My face heated, remembering the sweet kiss on the cheek and the steamier one from a couple of nights ago. “He isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Then why is your face all red?” She giggled. “Let’s start at cottage number one and work that way so we don’t lose our place.”
“Spoken like a teacher.”
I approached cottage number one which looked as if it had recently received a new coat of paint and knocked. Good for Heath. Thinking about him made me want to run to the main building and see whether he’d been carted away in handcuffs. Why was someone framing him? It’s obvious that’s what was happening. No one would kill an old woman, drop a glove, then drop the partner to the glove next to a different dead body. It didn’t make any sense.
“Yeah.” A woman with coal black hair and piercing gray eyes opened the door.
“Good morning. I’m Shelby—”
“I know who you are.” She crossed her arms over a bony chest. “What do you want?”
I blinked rapidly, then gained my composure. “We’re taking donations for repairs to the koi pond and was wondering—”
“I pay enough rent to cover those kinds of things.” She slammed the door in our faces.
“Well, I have no idea who that rude woman was, nor did we gain any information.”
“We need a master list of who lives where,” Cheryl said. “Do you think the receptionist will give us one?”
“It’s worth a try.” Maybe I could get a peek as to whether Heath was still around.
We hurried to the main building where the receptionist had changed up her daily chore. Instead of filing her nails, she painted them a turquoise blue. I cleared my throat twice before she glanced up.
“Sorry,” she said. “But, I didn’t want to mess up.” She blew on her nails. “What do you need?”
“A list of which residents live in which cottages.” I leaned on the counter.
“Well, I guess that’s okay, since you work here and all. My nails are wet. The list is on the computer under resident list. It also has their phone numbers.” She rolled her chair back to give me access.
“Have you seen the handyman, Heath, lately?” I asked, searching her computer documents.
“Yeah, some old cop took him out of here.”
My heart dropped to my knees and tears stung my eyes. “In handcuffs?”
“No. They headed to the dining room.”
Relief flooded through me in such a wave my knees almost buckled. I quickly found the file, printed two copies, and almost ran to the dining room with Cheryl right behind me. I’d forgotten to tell Teresa thank you. I’d do
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham