Candy Shop Mystery - Goody Goody Gunshots Part 3

"I ran into a little trouble at the junction last night," I said, this time including Dwayne. "I wonder if either of you have noticed anything unusual out here in the past few days?"

Marion's smile faded. Dwayne just looked confused. "What kind of trouble?" he asked.

"Well, that's the thing," I admitted. "I'm really not sure. At first, I thought someone-a man with a limp-had been seriously hurt. Now I'm starting to think it may have been an attempt to hijack my car. Have either of you noticed any strangers hanging around in the past day or two?"

Dwayne shook his head slowly. "I don't think so. I've been staying with Grandma for a couple months now, but I'm not here all that much."

Marion gave him a fond smile. "And when he is here, he's out in that garage, working his fingers to the bone." She turned back to me and said, "You know me, Abby. I've never been one to encourage adult children to live at home. I think there's far too much of that going on these days. But sometimes, being with family is exactly what's called for."

The change of subject surprised me, and I didn't know how to respond, so I tried to gently steer us back. "I certainly know about that. That's why what happened last night concerns me. If it could happen to me, it could happen to anyone-even you."

Marion's brows knit in consternation. "Here in Paradise? What's going on in the world, anyway?" She slid another sugary glance at her grandson and lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "I guess it's a good thing Dwayne's here with me, isn't it? He's getting a divorce, you know. That wife of his . . ." She rolled her eyes expressively and mouthed, "sleeping around."

Afraid she might decide to share details I didn't want- and Dwayne surely wouldn't want me to hear-I tried again to steer the conversation back on track. "So, does that mean you haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary?"

Marion shook her head. "No, but then I wouldn't, would I? Like I said, Dwayne's out in the garage most all day long, and I don't drive at night much since my eyesight took a turn for the worse. I don't trust myself to see well enough."

"That must be frustrating," I said, "but you were out this morning. I was out at the junction as you were driving home."

"Well, I do go out sometimes in the day. I can't take Dwayne away from his work every time I need a gallon of milk. It's hard work starting up a new business."

Clearly, she wanted me to show an interest in Dwayne and his new enterprise, so I gave up the fight. "So, you've started your own business?" I asked, prompting him to do his part.

He lifted one shoulder as if to say it was no big deal, but the self-satisfied smile that tugged on his mouth told a different story. "I've been renovating furniture-secondhand stuff. Stuff people are willing to just throw away. There's a good market for refurbished goods these days."

"That's terrific," I said, hoping I sounded enthusiastic enough for Marion. "Considering how messed up the economy has been the past few years, I'll bet lots of people are eager to pick up quality furniture without having to pay a fortune to get it. I didn't realize you were a carpenter."

"I wouldn't go that far," Dwayne mumbled.

"There you go being too modest again," Marion scolded gently. "He took cla.s.ses in carpentry, you know. Years ago, but he's always had a talent. His grandfather and I used to encourage him to do something with it, but he was more interested in lazing around with those no-good friends of his."

Color rushed into Dwayne's pudgy cheeks. "For G.o.d's sake, Grandma. Do you mind?"

"Well, what's wrong with bragging a little? It's a grandma's right, especially since you never speak up for yourself."

Dwayne might have been a lump, but the misery in his eyes touched something in me. I'd been embarra.s.sed by relatives more than once, and I firmly believe that n.o.body should have to endure that. "It sounds like you're doing well," I said.

He muttered again, and Marion started her chair moving once more.

I tried one last time to get us back on track. "So neither of you have seen anything unusual. Have you heard of anyone else running into trouble of any kind? Maybe someone's mentioned having a near accident or witnessing one?"

Marion glanced quickly at Dwayne, then shook her head. "I haven't heard a thing. And if Dwayne had, he would have told me, wouldn't you Dwayne?" He moved a thumb, which apparently meant yes. "You said you almost ran over some man. Do you know who he was?"

"No, but I wish I did. He was about five four, and it looked like he had a pretty severe limp. Does that sound familiar?"

Marion gave that some thought but eventually shook her head. "Paradise isn't what it used to be. There are strangers around most of the time now, but I don't remember seeing anyone with a limp. How about you, Dwayne?"

He wagged his head from side to side. "I haven't seen any strangers since the end of summer."

"My cousin Karen thinks it might have been an attempted carjacking or . . ." I couldn't bring myself to list the other, much worse possibilities, ". . . or something."

Apparently, Dwayne didn't share my problem. "Or a kidnaping?"

Marion gasped, and her eyes rounded in horror.

"It's possible," I admitted, wis.h.i.+ng for his grandmother's sake that Dwayne hadn't been quite so frank. "Although I can't imagine why anyone would want to kidnap me. It's not as if my family has money."

Dwayne lifted his head and looked straight at me for the first time. "There's other reasons to s.n.a.t.c.h somebody besides money, you know."

An involuntary shudder raced up my spine. I had no idea what to make of his comment. Was he warning me or just offering an observation? I'd known Dwayne most of my life, but we'd never been friends. He was just a kid who belonged to a casual friend of my mother's, not someone I knew well.

I shook off the uneasy feeling and kept a smile on my face, mostly because I didn't want him to think he'd frightened me. If that's even what he was trying to do. I wasn't sure what to think anymore.

Marion stopped rocking and glared at Dwayne. "That's a horrible thing to say, Dwayne. What on earth is wrong with you?"

He shrugged, and a sheepish look crossed his face that made him look all of ten years old. "It was just a thought, Grandma. I didn't mean anything by it. But you know it's true. There are all kinds of sick people running around in the world today."

"It might be true," Marion chided, "but that doesn't mean you have to say it. You probably frightened poor Abby half to death."

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on me. Here I was trying to protect Marion, and she was worried about protecting me. I smiled and shook my head. "I'm fine, Marion. Trust me, that thought crossed my mind long before Dwayne brought it up."

Marion sighed heavily. "What's wrong with the world these days? I just don't understand."

"I'm not sure anyone does." I stood, convinced there was nothing more either of them could tell me. "I hope I haven't frightened you by telling you about this, Marion."

"Me?" Marion looked surprised. "I'm not fragile, Abby, and I'm not as old as you think. Would you like me to keep my eyes open, just in case? I haven't noticed anyone suspicious lurking about yet, but I haven't been looking, either."

I could just imagine what Jawarski would say if I dragged an eighty-year-old woman into the middle of something potentially dangerous, so I shook my head quickly. "No, that's okay. I probably just overreacted. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Marion struggled to her feet, for the first time showing signs that she was growing older. "If you say so, Abby."

I tried to duck the wave of guilt that hit me, but I didn't move quickly enough. I caught Dwayne's eye as I gave Marion a brief hug and tried to elicit a silent promise that he'd look after her. When I walked out the door a few minutes later, I tried hard to believe that he'd given me what I asked for, but all I'd really gotten from my visit was another person to worry about.

Chapter 7.

By the time I was on the road and headed back to Divinity, I started to feel guilty about how long I'd left Karen alone at the shop. Deciding not to put off until tomorrow what I could do today, I detoured to the Paradise Post offices and placed a want ad for help with the sales counter at Divinity. Karen seemed pleased when I told her what I'd done, and the mood around Divinity was so relaxed, I spent the rest of the afternoon making lollipops for the upcoming holiday season.

It didn't take long for the entire shop to fill with the sweet scents of cooking sugar, cinnamon, wintergreen, pina colada, lemon, lime, and orange. By seven that night, I had row after row of gleaming red, yellow, orange, and green lollipops cooling on the granite countertop in the shape of turkeys, pumpkins, autumn leaves, and acorns. I was in the middle of giving myself an enthusiastic pat on the back for a good day's work when the phone rang.

I heard Karen answer. A few seconds later, she looked into the kitchen and said, "It's for you. Brody wants to know if you're already on your way."

On my way? My good mood faded as I remembered my promise to meet with Coach Hendrix tonight. What kind of aunt makes a promise one night and completely forgets about it by the next? Not a very good one.

Tossing my ap.r.o.n onto the table, I grabbed my keys and Max's leash before heading out the door. "Tell him I'm coming now!"

Thankfully, Max is always excited about the prospect of a ride in the car, so minutes later we were in what pa.s.ses for traffic in Paradise, heading toward Wyatt's house. I still couldn't work up any enthusiasm about the prospect of a.s.sistant coaching the team, but with any luck at all, I'd convince the boys to change their minds and let me off the hook.

In too much of a hurry to feel nervous, I checked for oncoming traffic, realized I was alone on the highway, and gave my brakes little more than a token tap as I shot through the junction. Twenty minutes after leaving Divinity, Max and I parked beside a Jeep Cherokee I a.s.sumed belonged to Kerry Hendrix and loped up the front steps. It was a speed trial record, at least for me.

While I tried not to look as if I'd broken half a dozen laws getting there, Max concentrated on wagging the little stump of tail he has left. Caleb opened the door and beamed up at me as if I were the Easter Bunny. "She's here!" he shouted, and shoved open the screen door before turning away.

I found Wyatt, Elizabeth, and Kerry waiting in the living room. Elizabeth looked mildly bored, Wyatt looked mildly irritated, and Kerry looked as if he'd gladly tear something apart with his teeth.

He's a big guy, probably six one or two. Around thirty or so, clean-shaven, and in terrific shape. He sat on Wyatt's sofa, his back razor-straight.

Max made a beeline toward the boys and settled himself on the floor between them. I sat next to Elizabeth on the love seat. "Sorry I'm late. I lost track of time."

Kerry shot a look across the room, locking eyes with Wyatt as if to confirm something they'd been discussing before I arrived. When Wyatt didn't react, Kerry looked away and flicked a piece of lint from the starched knee of his khakis. "You know we're here to talk about the possibility of you stepping in as a.s.sistant coach of the boys' basketball team." His voice was tight and filled with disapproval, and that annoyed me.

For the boys' sake, I told myself to keep a civil expression on my face. "Yes, I know. I'm thrilled that they want me to be a part of the team."

Head bent, Kerry leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and linking his hands together. He looked so solemn, he might have been finalizing negotiations for world peace instead of interviewing someone to sit on a bench in the recreation center a few nights a week.

"I'm sure you are," he said with a smile, but it looked as if the effort hurt him. "I'm also sure you understand why I'm a little concerned about this idea."

The perverse side of my nature rose its ugly head. I was there to talk the boys into changing their minds, but one look at Kerry Hendrix's smug face made me change my mind. Just knowing that he didn't want me as his a.s.sistant coach made me want the job with a pa.s.sion.

I slid a glance at the boys to see if they were paying attention. They didn't seem to be, but kids can be tricky. I kept my tone even and my own smile pleasant as I said, "No, I'm not sure I do understand. What concerns do you have?"

Once again, Kerry glanced at Wyatt, but my brother had the good sense to keep his head down. "Experience, for one thing," Kerry said when he realized Wyatt wouldn't be helping him. "How much do you know about basketball?"

"I know enough. I played on one of the county teams when I was younger, and what I don't know I can learn. What's important here is that the boys want me to help coach the team."

"She has a point," Elizabeth said helpfully.

Wyatt mumbled something unintelligible, and Caleb looked up from Max. Caleb studied the four of us for a long moment, a kid trying to figure out why he felt tension coming from the adults in his life.

"We're talking about just two boys out of ten," Kerry said, lowering his voice a decibel or two. "I'm not sure it's fair to put the whole team at risk just because two of them want to bring their aunt on board."

"At risk of what?" Elizabeth asked.

Kerry looked at her as if she were slow-witted. "Of having a losing season."

If it hadn't been for Brody and Caleb, I would have told him what he could do with his team and walked out the door. "Why do you think they'll be at risk?" I asked. "Is it because I don't have enough experience, or because I'm a woman?"

To my surprise, a flush crept into Kerry's cheeks, but that was nothing compared to the fire in his eyes. "Don't put words in my mouth. All I'm saying is that I want the best a.s.sistant coach I can get for the team, and don't try to make it sound like there's something wrong with that."

"Maybe I misunderstood," I said, "but I thought the team was in danger of folding completely unless you found an a.s.sistant coach soon. I also thought that the concept of team sports for kids this age was more about cooperation and spirit than keeping track of who wins and loses." Not that I completely approved of that idea. As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing wrong with teaching kids how to compete and remain friends. But for the sake of winning the argument, I'd play along.

Kerry's eyes narrowed, and the corners of his thin mouth edged down, but he didn't say a word.

Wyatt leaned into the conversation for the first time. "Do you have someone else lined up for the job?"

"No," Kerry admitted after a long silence. "I don't."

"Then what's your problem?" I demanded. "You're up against the wire. You have someone willing to step in and make sure the team can play this year, and you're not sure I'm good enough. Even if I were a lump on a log, wouldn't that be better than having n.o.body at all?"

"She has you there," Wyatt said, moving the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. "You need somebody by tomorrow, don't you?"

"By tomorrow, yes." Kerry s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably on the sofa cus.h.i.+on and made an effort not to act like a complete slimeball. "Listen, Abby, I have no problem keeping your name on file, but if someone else with better qualifications steps forward before the deadline, I'll have no choice but to sign them on."

My smile turned brittle. I glanced at the boys again to remind myself why I was putting up with this guy at all. "Naturally."

Kerry stood and a.s.sumed a lock-kneed, clenched-b.u.t.t stance as smug as the expression on his face. "If you do end up with the position, there will be some ground rules. Non-negotiable ground rules."

"I wouldn't expect it to be any other way." Not with him leading the team.

"You do things my way."

What a shock. "Understood."

"Fine." As if he and Wyatt had struck the deal, Kerry pumped my brother's hand, grabbed the jacket he'd tossed over the back of the sofa, and headed for the door. "I'll be in touch," he said, then disappeared out the door, leaving me to wonder whether I'd won that round or been soundly defeated.

Chapter 8.

There's nothing quite like the smell of sweaty little boys. That's not really something I wanted to know, but knowledge is one of the perks that comes with being a.s.sistant coach on a Youth League basketball team.

On Sat.u.r.day afternoon, three days after my meeting with Coach Hendrix, I sat on the coach's bench inside the city recreation center and watched Brody, Caleb, and eight other little boys run up and down the court, stop, aim, miss, and start all over again. The soles of their shoes squeaked on the heavily varnished floor, and their excited voices echoed in the cavernous s.p.a.ce.

Coach Hendrix, annoyed at having to accept me as his second-in-command, had planted me on the bench twenty minutes earlier with strict instructions to make sure I had a clean towel and sports drink ready every time one of the boys came off the court. Otherwise, I guess I was free to file my nails.

For all the attention he paid to me, I might as well have been at Divinity, pulling my share of the weight on a busy weekend. So far, there had been no response to my want ad. I'd called Dana and Danielle to help Karen while I was away, and Elizabeth had reluctantly agreed to let them help out this time. But I still felt guilty for leaving Karen with the bulk of the work, especially since I had almost nothing to do at the gym.

For a while I watched people stride up and down the hallway as they traveled between the locker room and other parts of the recreation center. My parents had given me a gift certificate last Christmas for twenty sessions on the exercise equipment, but I hadn't used it yet. I hadn't yet decided if they were being helpful or insulting. They'd moved to Denver about the time I came back to Paradise, so they weren't around to see that I'd let the gift languish. Now that I was here, I was a little surprised at the people who came to the center after working all day, and it occurred to me that maybe I should consider using that gift after all.

Marshall Ames had apparently ducked out of the restaurant for a while. I saw him mopping his face with a towel as he headed into the locker room. Quentin Ingersol, a real estate agent whose office was just around the block from Divinity, came out of the locker room wearing the same cheesy smile all of Paradise had been seeing in the new advertis.e.m.e.nts he'd plastered all over town. Nicolette Wilkes wiggled past, and only the fact that she's a good friend kept me from hating her for looking good in spandex.

After I tired of people watching, I counted rows of bleachers and lights in the ceiling. And when I was finished with that, I had nothing else to do but think.

I wondered if Hendrix objected to me personally, or if he would have objected to anyone in my position. I had a pretty good idea that he was one of those people who liked thinking of himself as king of the universe, which made it easier not to take his obnoxious att.i.tude personally.

Seeing Nicolette and a few other women in the hallway also made me wonder if this team I was helping to coach was all-male because the city had never gotten around to making the league coed, or because Coach Hendrix had cut any female players before they could make it this far. Maybe the current female population of the under thirteen set just wasn't interested in basketball.