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My husband didn’t seem very convinced by this argument. “Henry Lewis is not as much of a bumbler as you think he is,” he said, level black brows drawing together. “Yes, he might have dropped the ball a couple of times over the years, but he’s still a competent cop.”
I made a noncommittal noise as I buttered my biscuit. That night I’d had a craving for fried chicken, so that’s what we were eating, along with homemade macaroni and cheese…and a green salad, just so the entire meal wouldn’t be a completely indulgent calorie-fest. “So competent that I’ve solved nine murders since I moved to Globe and he didn’t help with a single one?”
“He helped arrest Thad Sullivan,” Calvin pointed out.
Okay, that was true. Henry — and two of his deputies — had apprehended Mr. Sullivan, but only because he was working off a tip I’d given him. Otherwise, I doubted he would have ever figured out that reality star Dillon James had been offed by his own producer.
“So I’ll give him a point for that,” I said. “That doesn’t mean either Victoria or I want him there tomorrow, especially since that letter she got specifically stated there shouldn’t be any police involvement. Since you’re not a member of the Globe P.D., it puts you in kind of a gray area, right?”
Calvin’s mouth tightened a bit. “Maybe, if you want to split hairs. I’m not sure your blackmailer will see it that way.”
“And he doesn’t have to,” I said serenely. “You’ll be in my shop in civilian clothes, so even if he catches a glimpse of you before he heads up to Victoria’s studio, he’s not going to think you’re anything except another customer. Ditto for when we’ll tail him after he leaves.”
“‘We’?” my husband repeated, now looking a little alarmed.
“Well, obviously,” I replied before taking a bite of biscuit. I swallowed the morsel, then added, “I have to drive you back home to get your Durango anyway, so I figured we’d go together and see where the guy is headed.”
“Leaving your new employee to watch the store without you when she’s barely been there for three days,” he observed, his tone now dry.
“Melanie can handle it,” I said. There might have been a lot of holes in my plan, but I knew that part of it was solid. My assistant had already shown that she had a firm grasp of the regular day-to-day duties required for working at Once in a Blue Moon, so I knew for a fact she’d be able to fly solo for an hour or two, especially since this was a quiet time of year for me.
A long pause as Calvin appeared to weigh my reply and decide whether he wanted to protest further, or whether he should go ahead and cave since it was obvious that I had an argument to counter any protests he might make on the subject.
It looked like he’d decided on the latter course, because he only said, “All right. I still don’t like it, but….”
He let the syllable hang in the air, and I nodded.
“It’s all going to be fine,” I assured him.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he replied, then leaned over in his chair so he could feed our Chihuahua mix Sadie a bit of chicken with the skin pulled off. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
And that seemed to be that.
I had to admit I couldn’t ignore the nervous little quivers in my stomach as Calvin and I entered the shop the next morning, even though I would have preferred to believe their source was the baby moving, rather than my own qualms over the plan Victoria and I had put together. Her red Mercedes SUV was already parked out back, telling me she’d probably gotten here early to give herself extra time to prepare for the upcoming meeting…and maybe make herself a second cup of tea to shore up her spirits.
Melanie wasn’t here yet, but since we’d pulled into the parking lot at about a quarter ’til, I wasn’t too surprised by that. I hadn’t gotten around to having a second set of keys made for her, so it only made sense that she’d wait until closer to opening so she’d know I was already at the store to let her in.
Sure enough, she arrived at about five minutes until ten, and sent a slightly startled glance toward Calvin, who was looking at the various volumes on the bookshelves and trying to appear inconspicuous. That sort of thing was nearly impossible for him, mostly because he stood six foot five in his sock feet and had long black hair that hung to his waist, but I could tell he was still making the attempt, anyway.
Before the moment could get too awkward, I said, “Melanie, this is my husband, Calvin. He came with me to work because his car is in the shop, and I needed to come over and get things unlocked here before I could drive him to the mechanic to pick it up.”
There, that story sounded plausible enough. I’d concocted it on the way over here, thinking I needed to provide some sort of excuse to explain why my husband was loitering around the store.
He stepped away from the bookcase and extended a hand. “Very nice to meet you, Melanie,” he said.
“Nice to meet you, too,” she replied, looking a little dazed. She knew I was married, but she probably hadn’t guessed that my husband was nearly six and a half feet of utter indigenous gorgeousness.
“His car’s supposed to be ready around ten-thirty,” I went on. “We’re just waiting for a text from the mechanic. Then I’ll have to step out for a bit to drive him over there, but I shouldn’t be gone too long.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Melanie said stoutly. “I can cover for you here for as long as you need.”
During that exchange, Calvin’s gaze had flickered almost imperceptibly toward the rear entrance of the store. When I’d first bought the building, there had only been a door that opened onto the parking lot and a storage area immediately inside, but after I’d given Victoria the apartment upstairs, she’d remodeled that space into an actual foyer, with a glass door that allowed access to Once in a Blue Moon and a set of stairs that led up to her second-floor studio. After the remodel was completed, we’d discussed getting security cameras, but then had decided that probably wasn’t necessary in sleepy little Globe, and had settled for only an alarm system instead.
I guessed that the quick shift of my husband’s eyes toward the little lobby area was a signal that our blackmailer had arrived and was going up the stairs toward Parrish Design.
Another nervous thrill went through me, but I did my best not to react, not to show that I’d guessed anything out of the ordinary was taking place in the studio upstairs.
“Thanks for that, Melanie,” I said, glad I sounded casual and composed. “I didn’t mean to have you handling things on your own here so soon after you got started, but, like I said, I shouldn’t be gone for very long.”
