1 In For A Penny Page 14

He stepped inside as if the floor were made of ice. I steeled myself against his very familiar scent. What would I do with him now that he was in the house?

  I cleared my throat softly. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat,” he said.

  I fixed him a cup of decaf coffee while I warmed up the leftover turkey surprise. Keeping my hands busy helped to steady my nerves. “What’s on your mind, Charlie?”

  He sat down heavily at the table. “I wanted to see you and the girls. I miss our times together.”

  Just thinking of his betrayal made my blood pressure skyrocket. My days of being the stoic martyr were over. “You should have thought of that before you jumped in bed with Denise.”

  His lips tightened into a thin disapproving line. “We could have worked things out if you hadn’t gone off half-cocked, Clee.”

  He had a lot of nerve assuming I was to blame for our divorce. The old me might not have argued with him, but the new me didn’t cave to his displeasure. “Hold on. You can’t blame our divorce on me.”

  “Why not? You’re the one who filed for divorce.”

  “What did you expect? That I would welcome you with open arms when you’d been screwing another woman’s brains out? Not in this lifetime.”

  Charlie shrugged. “Men mess up. It’s part of the Y chromosome thing. I made a mistake. You turned your back on me.”

  I wouldn’t let him paint me in this corner. “Damn you. It wasn’t just one mistake. I will not stand here and listen to this. If you’re unhappy with your lot in life, don’t blame me. What’s this really about, Charlie?”

  He stared at his clasped hands resting on the heavy oak table. “I told you. I miss you.”

  I was not softening. I repeated that phrase silently until I believed it. “Have you forgotten that you’re married to another woman? Are you trying to cheat on your new wife with me?”

  “No.” He glanced at me. “Maybe. Would you?”

  I couldn’t believe he’d even think such a thing. “Hell no. If you’re having problems with Denise, work them out with her. I don’t want to hear about them.”

  “If only it were that easy.” He laughed mirthlessly. “She had an affair. When I called her on it, she bragged that she was sleeping with my best friend.”

  I didn’t want to hear this, but I couldn’t help but think that justice was being served. Charlie was going through exactly what he’d put me through, and it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person.

  But. Denise and Dudley? “Do you believe her?”

  The microwave chimed. Neither of us moved to silence it.

  Charlie rubbed his entire face with his hands. “Because of her, the last words I said to my best friend were that I never wanted to speak to him again. I’m all torn up inside.”

  My brain processed this new information. Charlie had a strong motive for killing his best friend. He certainly knew how to handle a weapon. We’d shot skeet in the early years of our marriage. Light-years ago, but shooting was a skill a person didn’t forget.

  “What were you doing the night Dudley was killed?” I asked.

  He visibly sagged. “I was home alone. Denise spent the night with her mother.”

  So he could have done it. He could have killed Dudley. He knew about guns, he was driven by jealousy, and he didn’t have an alibi. “Does anyone else know about the affair?”

  Charlie’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. I just have to get away for a little while.”

  This sounded familiar, like the Charlie I remembered. During our marriage, Charlie had often gone fishing when he didn’t want to deal with his problems. His predictable behavior reassured me, and I relaxed my guard.

  The microwave dinged again. This time I responded to it and removed Charlie’s food. I discarded the wax paper covering the food and placed the plate in front of him.

  “What the hell is this?” He pointed to the ring of dark romaine lettuce, the circular bed of smoked turkey, and the honey mustard smiley face on the purple fried egg. We’d had a whole one left over from dinner. I wasn’t sure how the lettuce would hold up after heating, but hey, seeing as how I could be feeding a murderer, the crispness of his food really didn’t matter to me.

  “It’s turkey surprise and if you don’t eat every last bite, Charla’s going to be brokenhearted. Mama’s teaching her to cook.”

  “God help us all.” He took a bite. His expression grew thoughtful as he swallowed. “Not bad.”

  “I’ll tell Charla you liked it,” I murmured as I refilled both of our coffee cups. “So, are you headed up to the lake for some fishing?”

  “That’s my plan, but it’s so late, that what I’d really like to do is crash here, if that’s okay.”

  It wasn’t okay with me, not by a long shot. “You have a perfectly good bed across town, if you recall. One that has your wife in it.”

  Charlie forked in another bite, talking between swallows. “Denise and I had a big fight tonight. I can’t go back there and give her the satisfaction of winning. I told her I was going up to the cabin at the lake for a few days because I couldn’t stand the sight of her. Could I stay here, please? I still have keys to Dudley’s place, but I can’t bring myself to go over there. I’d spend the night wondering where they’d done it.”

  Justice had indeed been served. “Welcome to my world,” I said wryly.

  Charlie grimaced. “I’m sorry, Clee. I had no idea what I put you through. I’d take it all back if I could. I don’t know what I was thinking getting mixed up with Denise. I asked her for a divorce tonight and she told me to go to hell. She said she didn’t plan on moving out, and if I wanted a divorce, I’d have to move out and leave her the house.”

  The idea of Denise getting my house in Hogan’s Heights free and clear really bugged me. Technically it wasn’t my house anymore, but still. What right did she have to it?

  “I left tonight because I couldn’t stand being under the same roof as she was,” he said. “I’m exhausted. I don’t feel up to a two-hour drive.”

  “You could stay in a motel,” I suggested, sipping my coffee.

  Charlie scraped his plate clean. “You know how I hate motels. I like sleeping in my own bed.”

  “You don’t have a bed here. If I allowed you to stay here, you’d be staying on the couch.”

  He sighed deeply. “I couldn’t sleep with you? I promise it wouldn’t be sexual at all. I’d just like to sleep in a familiar bed.”

  I shook my head so fast my hair flew out of the clip and into my face. I shoved the loose strands behind my ear. Charlie was not weaseling his way into my life or my bed. “Absolutely not. As it turns out, my bed is a little full these days.” I was referring to the Saint Bernard he’d foisted off on me.

  Charlie scowled. “Is he here now?”

  I felt my lips round into an “O” shape. He’d misunderstood what I said, and not for the first time. “You are my only guest tonight, unless you count the dog you stuck me with.”

  In typical Charlie fashion, he ignored the part about the dog. “I don’t like you dating Rafe Golden. What do you know about him? Is he a child molester? We have to think about the safety and well-being of the girls.”

  It was a little late for him to wonder about the safety and security of the girls. If Rafe had been here, then at least there would have been a man in the house and they would be better protected than they were right now.

  My relationship with Rafe was none of Charlie’s business. I barred my arms across my chest. “Back off, Charlie. You don’t have any rights when it comes to my social life. I’ll make sure the girls’ safety isn’t jeopardized, but that’s as much as I’m willing to concede.”

  “I heard he kissed you.”

  “That kiss appears to be common knowledge,” I admitted.

  “It upsets Charla that you’re dating someone.”

  The guilt card wouldn’t work on me either. “Give me a break. Charla has held on to the hope from day one that we’d get back togeth
er. Anything that impinges on her hopes upsets her. For instance, your marriage to Denise upsets Charla, but that didn’t stop you from getting married.”

  Charla would be tickled pink that her Dad’s marriage was on the rocks, but it would be a cold day in hell before I took Charlie back. Jonette was right. I’d always be wondering if he was cheating on me. I was so over him. “I’ll get some clean linens and make up the couch.”

  Charlie followed me into the living room. “God, I can’t believe you’re putting me on the couch. My back is going to kill me tomorrow.”

  “You’re welcome to leave and get a motel room. If you weren’t the father of my children, I’d turn you away for the night. Be grateful that I’m even allowing you to stay here at all. And don’t go getting any ideas. This is just for one night.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. You’ve made your point. I am grateful. I didn’t know where else to turn.”

  That’s what happened when your world turned to shit. I’d lived that life. Family was all you could trust when that happened. I guess that’s why Charlie came here. We were the closest thing to family that he had. Friends and acquaintances just didn’t cut it at times like these.

  Thinking of acquaintances reminded me of Ed Monday and his banking problem. I tossed the embroidered throw pillows in the rocking chair. “Charlie, I need a favor. My neighbor is having trouble down at the bank. Could you look into it for me?”

  “Mrs. Harris?”

  “No, Ed Monday. He claims his bank statements are inaccurate. The bank insists that he has a loan that he didn’t repay. He swears he never took out a loan. Could you see what’s happening with his account?”

  “Your weird neighbor? Why would I want to help him out?”

  “Because I’m asking you to.”

  Ever the opportunist, Charlie asked. “What’ll I get for it?”

  I tossed a blanket at him. “You get to sleep on a lumpy couch. Don’t push your luck.”

  Chapter 18

  “Daddy!” Charla’s voice rang joyously through the house. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  I heard Charla clear up in my room as I tied my shoes. My heart ached for the family she wanted us to be. In her greeting I heard yearning and aching and worst of all, hope. My oldest daughter truly believed her parents would get back together.

  Supposing Charlie did divorce Denise, what would happen? Last night he’d sounded like he wanted us to try again. If I could trust what he’d said, he wanted me back in his life and in his bed.

  Too bad. I couldn’t get past all that he’d put me through. I couldn’t pretend that his adultery and our divorce had never occurred.

  I put on a determined face and went downstairs to fix breakfast. Time folded in on itself as the four of us sat down to eat at the kitchen table. Charla talked nonstop while Lexy sulked because she couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Charlie’s warm gaze rested as frequently on me as it did on the girls.

  I could almost see the wheels turning in his brain as he tried his old life on for size. In the old days I would’ve gone along with his wishes so that I didn’t make waves. I wasn’t that person anymore. My purpose in life no longer revolved around making Charlie happy. The sooner he came to terms with that, the better for all of us.

  Charlie offered to drop the girls off at school, and they left in a clatter of noise. Even my normally quiet Lexy seemed animated by her father’s presence.

  But, after they left, I sat down with a cup of coffee and wondered just what I’d done. I’d fixed Charlie his eggs just the way he liked them, the way I’d made them a hundred bazillion times before. I’d added that dollop of milk to his coffee before I sat the cup on the table in front of him.

  Good heavens. I’d been acting like I was his wife. That wasn’t going to happen. I wouldn’t let it. Only, there was a lot of comfort in a familiar routine. And after sixteen years of marriage, I was very familiar with Charlie Jones.

  He’d given me that unshaven boyish grin as he left, the one that had always melted me down to my toes. A part of me was whispering seductively in one ear, “You could have him again.” But the other part of me was shouting, “You don’t want him.”

  Mama walked into the kitchen dressed in her triple-stranded pearls, mauve suit, and burgundy pumps. “I heard a man’s voice. Who was here?”

  Mama’s bedroom overlooked the driveway. She’d have to be blind to have missed Charlie’s BMW.

  I drew in a deep breath, bracing myself for the explosion sure to come. “Charlie spent the night.”

  Mama’s penetrating stare would have broken another, lesser woman. “I thought we agreed that you were over him,” Mama said.

  “We did, and I am. He slept on the couch, Mama. He needed a place to stay.”

  “Hasn’t the man ever heard of motels?” Mama poured a cup of coffee, then joined me at the kitchen table.

  I’d already had this conversation with Charlie. “He’s the father of my children. Even if he is a puke, I couldn’t turn him out in the street.”

  “I don’t see why the hell not.”

  Lord, you had to love my mother. She was unswervingly loyal in her convictions. “It was my choice. I don’t see why we can’t be civil about this.”

  Madonna must have sensed my distress. She came over and thrust her big Saint Bernard head in my lap. Her brown eyes radiated sympathy. I rubbed her head and she licked my hand.

  “You always were softhearted, Cleo. Make sure that man doesn’t take advantage of you again.”

  “Hey. I resent that remark. There’s a difference in being softhearted and being stupid. I learned my lesson about Charlie already.”

  “Keep that in mind.” After she felt her warning had time to sink in, Mama added, “What time are you going over to the office today?”

  “Soon as I finish up here. I’d like to start with the Bluemont Hills audit.” I also planned to make a phone call about Valley Land Company.

  It had occurred to me during the night that Valley Land Company, the White Rock housing development, and Dudley’s death might be connected, but I wanted to move cautiously. A lot of money was tied up in this stalled development. A misstep here could cost me my pride, my biggest client, or even my life.

  Mama left and I did the dishes. This was good thinking time for me as I mindlessly loaded the dishwasher. Before Dudley’s murder, I seemed to be caught in an out of-the-way eddy of life. Now it seemed as if my life was shooting through rapids, zipping from one exciting hydraulic to the next.

  No longer was each day an ordeal to endure. I wasn’t looking backward anymore. My future seemed as bright as the gleaming white azaleas and sunshine-yellow forsythia blooming in my yard. The new Cleo was getting on with her life.

  My immediate goal was to find out who killed Dudley. I wouldn’t let Britt send Jonette or Bitsy to jail for a murder they didn’t commit. I had one or maybe two men, if you counted Charlie, who were interested in me, although I wasn’t sure that either man was a good catch. But, hey, I had a future. Life was good.

  * * * * *

  I took a break from work and walked Madonna down to the bank to deposit the checks that arrived in today’s mail. Since it was such a nice spring day, I chose the long way to the bank. Madonna and I went out the back door and cut through Old Man Putnam’s driveway and over into the park. After that, we followed Schoolhouse Road west to Burkittsville Road and came up on the bank from the side street.

  The first thing I noticed as I approached was that Main Street was a parking lot. Vacant cars pointed in the direction of the yellow crime scene tape surrounding the bank.

  Had something else happened in Hogan’s Glen? What danger lurked in our sleepy little town?

  Questions churned in my head as I made my way towards the throng of people gathered at the barrier of crime scene tape. I recognized the massive bulk of my neighbor Ed Monday and stopped next to him, reining Madonna in close. Ed’s bald head gleamed in the sunlight. I leaned around his portly figure to catch
his eye. “What’s going on, Ed?” I asked.

  Ed glanced over at me and then back at the bank. “The bank guard was killed last night,” Ed said, shoving his fists in the pockets of his worn jeans. “Shot. Right between the eyes.”

  I felt icy talons gripping my stomach. I believed something suspicious was going on at the bank, and now the guard was dead? Did the police see the same connections that I did? “The guard?”

  Ed nodded glumly, his attention fixed on the scene before us. My mind started churning around the new pieces to this puzzle. How did this all fit together?

  Why would the guard be shot, unless the bank was being robbed or unless the guard saw something he shouldn’t have? Was this about White Rock or Valley Land Company? I glanced around the crowd, noting faces of friends and acquaintances. Our illustrious mayor was nowhere in sight.

  I shivered in spite of the warm day. Hogan’s Glen was not a good place to live these days. Two murders in less than a week was two more than we’d ever had. Two murders meant it wasn’t a fluke circumstance. This was terribly serious. We had a serial killer in our midst.

  What else connected Dudley’s murder to this one? Anyone with half a brain could make the connection to the bank. Lots of money flowed through that bank, and who better to know the transaction details than a bank officer like Charlie or Dudley?

  Charlie hadn’t had an alibi for Dudley’s murder. Suppose he’d gone to the bank first and murdered the guard before he came over last night? Had he used me to establish an alibi for the guard’s murder?

  Had I slept with a serial killer under my roof?

  How well did I really know Charlie Jones? Just because I’d been married to him for sixteen years didn’t mean that I knew him. I’d had no knowledge of his adultery until it smacked me square in the face. Maybe I’d missed the real Charlie Jones all these years. Maybe I’d only known the man he wanted me to see.

  I exhaled shakily. There was no reason to jump to conclusions. Just because Charlie worked at the bank, that didn’t automatically make him a mass murderer. Lots of people worked at the bank. But still.

  I felt very uneasy. A killer was running wild in our town. How could I keep my family safe if the police couldn’t catch this person?