A Wrench in the Works Read online

  “Gus loves cars, which means he loves driving.” She grabbed my arm. “And before we go any further, I want to thank you again for hiring Niall. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.”

  “It’s my pleasure. I haven’t even worked with him yet, but all my guys think he’s brilliant and talented. And fun.”

  “Oh, he’s fun, all right.” She rolled her eyes as only a sister could.

  I smiled as she led the way into the front room. I was overjoyed to see that my friends were all here.

  “Shannon, you made it.” Jane jumped up from the couch and gave me a hug.

  “Here’s a glass of wine,” Emily said, handing me a glass of my favorite Pinot Noir.

  Lizzie and Marigold were admiring a new quilt Marigold had brought with her. Her quilts were made by her Amish friends and family back in Pennsylvania and she sold them at Crafts and Quilts, her shop on the town square.

  Lizzie walked over and hugged me. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in months, but I know it hasn’t been that long.”

  I smiled as I slipped my arm through hers. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “I’ll see you this weekend for the book signing, won’t I?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “Chloe is really excited about it.” Even though she was currently in jail, I thought, wincing. She had probably forgotten all about the book signing.

  Jane’s eyes grew wide. “Is it true she’s spending the night in . . . ?”

  I glanced around at their concerned faces. Of course they would’ve heard. This was Lighthouse Cove, home of the instantaneous gossip machine. News here traveled faster than the speed of light.

  “In the slammer?” I finished Jane’s sentence for her. “So you’ve all heard. Yes, it’s true. She’s in what I like to call protective custody.” I made air quotes with my fingers as I said it.

  “Tell us everything,” Lizzie insisted.

  “But first,” Emily interrupted, “let’s go sit down and eat.”

  “Excellent idea,” I said, feeling suddenly famished.

  She led the way to her huge, beautiful kitchen where an old-fashioned farm table held platters of two kinds of pasta and a big green salad loaded with veggies.

  “This looks beautiful.”

  “Please sit,” Emily said to me. “Put some food on your plate and then spill your guts.”

  I did as I was told, relating all the latest news about the show and the murders and Chloe. My friends gave me advice and warnings. We discussed the suspects and everyone took votes on who did it.

  All in all, the evening was exactly as Emily had promised. Wine, pasta, and giggles. And good friends. I had missed these girls so much and I wished beyond anything that Chloe could’ve been here with us. It made me even more determined to get together with the girls and Chloe at least once before she went back to LA.

  And just thinking about Chloe leaving made me want to cry. But I took a sip of wine instead and fortified myself with the knowledge that my sister would be visiting us a lot more often after this.

  “I think your instincts are right about that Blake Bennett,” Lizzie said. “The fact that he can’t hammer a nail makes me think he’s got issues.”

  “You mean, he’s compensating for something?” Jane asked.

  Lizzie nodded and turned to me. “Don’t you think so?”

  “It’s possible,” I said. “But really, all I know is that somebody killed two people. And it wasn’t Chloe.”

  “No, of course not,” Lizzie said. “But if not Blake, who else could it be?”

  “Suzanne,” Emily chimed. “Anyone as tall as she is must have psychological problems.” She glanced around the room. “I’m kidding.”

  “Of course you are,” I said with a chuckle. “Although I did spend some time trying to figure out how she killed both people and poisoned Chloe’s coffee.”

  “Wow, Shannon,” Lizzie said. “Your mind is a dark place.”

  “I know. But seeing all of you brightens it up a lot.”

  “Aw,” Emily said, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “You brighten up our lives, too.”

  “Let’s get back to the tall woman,” Jane said, quickly adding, “Not that her height is an issue.”

  I chuckled. Jane and I had always been the two tallest girls in class, which had made us the target of ridicule for some reason.

  “But,” Jane continued, “Suzanne sounds like a real pro at multi-tasking.”

  “Oh, definitely,” I said.

  “That’s a skill that would be useful in planning murder. And with Bree’s death, she gains a powerful new job title and a big raise in pay—not to mention, she wouldn’t have to work with toxic Bree anymore. Sounds like a major motive to me.”

  “But why would she want to hurt Chloe?” I wondered.

  “She thinks Chloe knows something,” Jane said.

  “Or saw something,” Marigold suggested.

  “Who else is on the suspect list?” Lizzie asked.

  “Diego?” Marigold suggested. “I mean, I can see him killing Bree, but how does he even know Richie?”

  Jane sipped her wine. “Maybe they met somewhere. Maybe Richie was blackmailing Diego.”

  Emily frowned. “With what?”

  Jane shrugged. “I’ve known Richie forever. He’s never played by the rules. Maybe Diego has a dark past that Richie found out about and decided to use it to make some money.”

  “But why?” I asked. “What’s the connection between Richie and Diego?”

  “Bree?” Marigold suggested.

  “Or just money,” Emily said.

  I frowned at that. “But Richie had plenty of money.”

  “Not really,” Jane said. “He liked to show off, but he wasn’t as rich as everyone thought. He just wasn’t a good businessman. He was living on the money as it comes in.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “Well, first of all, I know everything,” Jane said, biting back a grin.

  “That’s true,” Lizzie said with a nod.

  “And second, we go to the same bank. Not that I’ve actually hacked into his records or anything, but I happened to be there a few months ago when the bank president started yelling at Richie about his overdrawn accounts. Everyone in the bank could hear him.”

  “Whoa.” Richie didn’t have money? I would have to think about this.

  Marigold spoke up. “He was supposed to be in charge of some big charity gala last year and they always rake in the dough. But with Richie in charge, they lost money. I mean, a serious amount of money. I think they’re still investigating.”

  “Um, if Richie was having sex with Bree, maybe he took a video of them together.” Lizzie’s voice was quiet, but firm.

  “Ew,” Marigold said, making a face.

  “Ugh,” I said. “I don’t even want to go there.”

  Jane chuckled. “But it would make a great blackmailing tool.”

  Lizzie nodded. “And an excellent motive for murder.”

  “You can say that again,” Emily murmured.

  We all sipped our wine for a moment in silence. Then I shuddered. “Yuck, that image! Is there a way to bleach my brain?”

  “Mine too, please,” Jane said, and we all laughed.

  “My money is on that personal assistant of Blake’s,” Emily said. “She follows him around like a puppy and clings to him whenever she has the chance. It’s sad.”

  “Do you think they’re sleeping together?” Jane asked.

  Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “Brings new meaning to the term personal assistant.”

  “Chelsea?” I thought about it. “It’s pathetically obvious that she’s in love with Blake.”

  “Another perfect motive for murder,” Jane said.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  I still b
lamed Chelsea for lacing Chloe’s coffee, and I had my suspicions about whether she had also tainted Chloe’s makeup. But there was no way she could’ve damaged the extension ladder. I sighed. Until Eric finished his investigations, I could only wonder and worry, which was so not my style. No, it was way past time I took some action. And I knew just the person to help me with that.

  * * *

  • • •

  On the drive home, I called Chloe. “How’s it going?”

  “I’m actually very cozy and feeling fine.”

  “Did you have pizza?”

  “Yes, and Eric even smuggled a split of Cabernet into the cell for me.”

  “Sounds like a party.”

  “It was actually nice. He’s so interesting and easy to talk to. Did you know he studied drama in college?”

  “Seriously?” I smiled. Our chief of police probably wouldn’t be pleased to know Chloe was spilling his secrets.

  “How was work today?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “I had a long talk with Blake,” I said.

  “He’s so nice, isn’t he?”

  “Sure he is.” I was getting the feeling that Chloe thought everyone was nice. I couldn’t agree, but I didn’t want to say so. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought up the network show. He tried to convince me that you were the one being fired because they actually wanted to pair Blake with Diego.”

  “What?” Wow. Who knew that our shrill voices sounded so much alike? “He’s delusional.”

  “That was my thought, too. Delusional, or he’s just plain lying. He said the network was looking for a more macho dynamic.”

  “What a crock.” She paused for a moment, then added, “You know, it really bugs me that he said that. Not only because it’s a complete fabrication, but because he said it to you. He had to know it would hurt you.”

  “I was furious, but I tried not to show it.”

  Chloe had a point, though. Had he said all of that on purpose just to get me mad enough to tell him everything I knew?

  “I know you’re good friends,” I said, “but he’s quickly becoming my favorite murder suspect.”

  “Maybe we’re not as good friends as I’ve always thought,” she said. “But I still can’t picture him killing anyone, let alone Bree.” She sighed. “I just hope we get some answers soon.”

  I came to a stop on the north side of the town square. “Do you know anything about Diego’s background?” I asked.

  “Not much. I know he was going to college when Bree discovered him. He was pre-med, believe it or not. His father was a carpenter. And Diego used to build houses with his church group when he was in high school. That’s how he knows so much about construction.” She chuckled. “Guess I know more about him than I thought.”

  “He seems like a sweet guy.” But a pre-med student would know chemistry, I thought. He could probably figure out how to poison someone by applying tainted makeup to their skin.

  “I think so, too,” Chloe said softly. “He’s not a good suspect for murder, either, Shan. Really, I can’t think of anyone I know who would kill Bree and Richie. Let alone try to kill me, too.”

  “It’s always hard to picture someone you know doing something like that.”

  “It sure is.”

  I didn’t say anything else because I didn’t actually agree with her. From my experience, anyone could make a good suspect for murder.

  She yawned. “I’m going to go to sleep now.”

  “Okay, sis. Sleep well.”

  “Thanks, sis. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” Seconds after I ended the call, my phone rang. I was stopped at the corner of Main Street and Blueberry Lane so I took a quick look at the screen and answered. “Hey, Mac.”

  “Hi, Shan.”

  I smiled at the nickname. Until Mac came along, it was only my family who called me that. “I was going to call you. I just left Emily’s a few minutes ago. I had dinner with the girls.”

  “Hope you had a fun evening.”

  “The best,” I said, smiling.

  “Glad to hear it. Where are you now?”

  “Three blocks away from my house.”

  “Okay, I’m going to stay on the phone with you until you get home.”

  “That’s nice. It’ll take me at least a whole minute.”

  “I’ll take it,” he said.

  As I drove, he told me what he’d done tonight and a minute later, I pulled into my driveway and came to a stop.

  “I’m home,” I said. “Will I see you . . . Wait. My gate is open.”

  I stared at the gate, swinging slowly back and forth in the light breeze. Had I left it open? No, I never did. Had Chloe come home at some point and forgotten to latch it? But no, she wouldn’t have done that and also, she hadn’t come home yet. She’d gone straight to the police station from the film set. And it probably wasn’t Dad, either. Everyone knew to close the gate because Robbie liked to use the doggie door to come out and play.

  “Shannon,” Mac said. “Don’t get out of the truck. Stay on the phone with me. I’m calling the police from my home phone. And then I’m on my way.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Tommy showed up ten minutes later and Mac arrived ten minutes after that. They did a thorough search of my house and yard, but found nothing. When Tommy finally left, Mac stayed, determined to spend the night just in case the open gate was not a fluke. And I was happy to have him.

  I poured us both a half glass of wine and we sat at the kitchen table.

  “I think I’m more upset that you guys didn’t find something.”

  “It’s possible that the wind blew the gate open,” he said. “But with everything that’s been going on, it’s good that we got the cops to come check. Better to be safe than sorry.”

  “I know.” I wasn’t sleepy so we stayed up for a while, talking and laughing. I told him all about Chloe hiding out in a jail cell, and then I brought up my conversation with Blake.

  “You were trying to bait him, weren’t you?” he said.

  I blinked, all innocence. “Is that what it sounds like?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. I guess I don’t blame you, but I’m begging you not to do that unless I’m around.”

  I smiled. “Will you be there tomorrow?”

  “Yes. And I’m sticking close by you.”

  “Good. Because I don’t trust Blake Bennett.” I frowned. “And I don’t trust his assistant, Chelsea. And I can’t honestly be sure I trust Suzanne. Or Josie, although she’s been nothing but wonderful. Still, Chloe was attacked twice in her makeup trailer.” I twisted my lips in a frown and gazed at him. “Actually, I don’t trust any of them right now, so I have a feeling I’ll be doing a lot more baiting tomorrow.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Mac spent the night and woke up early enough to make me breakfast. It was like heaven to spend an extra hour with him, especially over French toast, bacon, and coffee. When it was time for me to leave, he said he would drive home to shower and change clothes, but promised to get to the set as soon as possible and stay there all day. My hero.

  I was crossing the lawn to get a cup of coffee when I spied two familiar faces in the crowd. The Wagners.

  I bypassed the coffeepots and walked straight over to talk to them. “Hi, Mrs. Wagner. Do you remember me?”

  “Sure I do. Call me Lolly,” she said.

  I almost swallowed my tongue. Was that why her husband claimed she was lollygagging? Maybe it was an inside joke between the two of them, although they didn’t come across as jokesters. And yet they were Lolly and Rolly. It was all I could do to keep a straight face. “Lolly. That’s an unusual name. I’m Shannon.”

  “My name is actually Lola, but I never thought it suited me. So I changed it to Lolly.”

 
I grinned. “Well, that does seem to suit you.”

  “I think so, too.” She turned and elbowed Rolly. “This is my husband, Rolly. Honey, this is the girl I told you about. The one I saw yelling at that silly cousin of Richie Stoddard’s.”

  “Ah.” He regarded me with suspicion for a moment, then burst into a big smile. “Well, thank you. Any enemy of Stoddard’s is a friend of mine.”

  What did it say about me that I liked them both for saying that? “Can I ask you why you were so angry with Richie? What did he do to you?”

  Rolly began pounding his fist into his palm. “Don’t get me started.”

  Lolly patted his arm. “Don’t blow a fuse. She just asked a simple question.” Lolly looked at me. “He sold us a house that’s full of mold.”

  “Mold?”

  “He never disclosed it,” Rolly said.

  “We didn’t find out until we started getting sick all the time. We had a plumber doing some work on our basement bathroom and he discovered the mold.”

  “Are you sure it was already there when you bought the house?”

  Rolly scowled. “I went and checked the public records and found that it had been disclosed by the previous owner, but Stoddard removed it from the papers we signed.”

  “That’s awful,” I said. “And illegal.”

  “You’re telling me,” Rolly grumbled. “We can’t even live there anymore.”

  “We were going to sue him,” Lolly said, “but then he promised we’d get a free home makeover from the show.”

  “And he lied about that, too.” Rolly bared his teeth. “Maybe it’s cruel of me to say so, but I’m happy he’s dead. I didn’t kill him, but I’ll gladly shake the hand of whoever did.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Today we’re going to work on this scaffolding platform,” I said to the camera. “We’ve got some loose siding on the second floor and we’ll be removing them and treating the subsurface to help guard against future water damage.” I talked as I walked, pointing up at the house.

  The scaffolding had been rigged that morning, mostly by my crew, and it ran the entire length of the side of the house, at least fifty feet long and fifteen feet high.