Chapter Eighteen
Annie smiled at the pharmacist, pushing the list of items she didn’t want to look at across the counter. “These are for my neighbors. Apparently everything is on file and ready for pickup.”
The older woman laughed and let her glasses slip down to the end of her nose as she read the list. Her hair was the kind of feathered style that made Jane Fonda famous.
“Margie called me last week and told me there was a new Tuesday girl in the rotation. Annie, right?” She tapped her glasses back up so they sat on her nose properly.
“Yes, ma’am.” She winced. She hated being called ma’am, but it was polite and this woman didn’t have a name tag.
“Eleanor, dear. I’ll grab these for you.”
Annie tapped her fingers against the counter, keeping her head down. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone, which wasn’t like her, but in the last few days, she felt like she’d done a lifetime’s worth of talking. About the same thing on repeat.
“Here you go,” Eleanor said. She placed six white bags, all stapled and labeled in front of Annie. “Do you have anything you want to put on file for when it’s someone else’s turn to pick up?”
She shook her head before the word “no” flew out of her mouth. She did her best to smile around the brusqueness. “I’m all good.”
“I’m sorry you found Gill. That had to be terrible. He used to visit my son’s coffee shop frequently, and there wasn’t one time he didn’t cause a problem with someone.”
Annie put the white bags into her oversized purse, making the connection. “Your son owns Just Coffee?”
Eleanor smiled, parental pride shining in her gaze. “Simon prefers simplicity.”
Hmmm. Barista and owner. No wonder he felt comfortable putting Gill in his place.
“He was very nice when I met him,” Annie said.
“He’s a sweetheart. And newly single.”
Feeling her cheeks warm, Annie nodded. “Oh. Well, that’s nice. I should go deliver all of these.”
“Don’t forget the muffins,” Eleanor called as Annie hurried away.
Right. Six stupid dozen muffins. One trip to the library for books she’d drop off to a neighbor she hadn’t even met yet.
As she ran the errands, she wondered about Gill. If he went to Just Coffee regularly, maybe the rest of his schedule was predictable. Which meant retracing his steps should be fairly easy.
In the last episode of Frontline Blues, her favorite cop show, they’d traced the twenty-four hours previous to the victim’s death. Knowing the moments that led to his final breath could be the key to solving the mystery.
Annie returned to the complex, jumped in and out of her car a literal half dozen times, dropping flats of muffins—they’d know they weren’t homemade, but too bad—prescriptions, and, for one neighbor, a nice selection of romance and mystery books.
Raj was outside washing his car as she carried his muffins and prescription. He turned the hose off when she approached.
“Morning, Annie. You’re off to an early start.”
Annie laughed, her gaze lingering on a wide Band-Aid between Raj’s thumb and pointer finger.
“No choice if I wanted to get all of my chores done.”
Setting the hose down, he took the items from her. “That’s fair. How are you doing?” His tone went somber.
She shrugged. “I’m okay. Just trying to figure out what happened. Are you okay?” She gestured to his hand.
He glanced at it, and she couldn’t read whatever it was that flashed in his gaze. Worry? Frustration?
Raj smiled too wide. “Damn cats, right?”
Annie looked toward his house as if she expected a cat to come strolling out. When she turned back, Raj had put some distance between them. “Thanks for this. Now you’re off the hook for a while. I should get back to this. I need to get to work. You take care of yourself, Annie.”
Solid brush off, neighbor. As she went back to her truck, she made a mental note to ask Ben if Raj had a cat.
One of the best parts of being an adult was no one could tell you what you had to eat. Well, unless it was Margie and she was pushing muffins on people. Annie sat down with a bowl of tortilla chips and a nice salsa she’d found at the market. She stared at her notebook where she’d written Gill’s name surrounded by people with motive for killing him.
Even she could see the motives were weak. A knock on the door elicited a long, irritated groan that bordered on a growl. Annie slapped her notebook shut, checked her phone. She was due at the coffee shop soon. Maybe it was one of her neighbors.
Bingo. Margie stood much as she had last time, far enough away to be seen through the peephole.
“Hi,” Annie greeted, a smile on her face as she took in the woman’s outfit.
“Hi, yourself.” Margie let herself in, amusing Annie. Today she paired a neon-pink blouse with a pair of wide-bottomed gray pants. Her hair had a streak of pink that matched the shirt, while her make up was more subtle today but no less stunning. Between her and Ginger, Annie felt like she needed to up her game just so she wouldn’t look drab next to the older women.
“Come in.” She shut the door behind Margie, following her to the kitchen.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m bored and want my laptop back.” In the kitchen, she went to the fridge while Margie took a seat at the table, opened up the folder she was holding. “Juice?”
“What kind?”
“Strawberry kiwi or orange.”
“Orange, please.”
Pouring them both a glass, Annie went over to chat with her neighbor. It seemed easier to give into the woman’s will. Despite being pushy, Annie liked her. She didn’t want to believe the worst. Could she have a dark side? Could Margie have killed Gill? It didn’t sit right that she’d just happened to be there. Ask her why she was. Ease into it.
“Why did you tell the police Joseph was my attorney the other day?” She picked up her juice, took a sip.
Margie shrugged. “He went to law school. Never finished, but that doesn’t matter. He knows the lingo. Gets me all frisky, it does. Nothing like a man who can use the term exclusionary rule and know what he’s talking about.”
Annie laughed, hoping to sidestep any details. “He definitely knows more than me—because I have no idea.”
“Well, we were worried they were taking advantage of you. We wanted to make sure whatever you said couldn’t be used in a trial.”
Her mirth died in her throat. “Let’s hope it doesn’t get there.”
“Let’s. I’ll feel better once they give you your laptop back.”
She started to say agree, but Margie carried on. “What have you figured out so far? I’ve got a list going. I’ve brought it to share with you. Now, on Tuesdays, we head to Cuppa. It’s my favorite of the coffee shops, but we try to be equitable and switch around. We’ll have about six members of the Homeowners’ Association there. Ginger said you wanted to meet everyone else.”
Annie picked up the top paper on Margie’s pile. “Are you friends with her?”
Margie snorted. “In the same way I’d be friends with a bear or a cobra. Just to get on their good side.”
“Do you think she could have killed Gill?”
“No. It would require too much effort, and she might break a nail. That woman considers a day without a pricy lunch or a twenty-dollar cocktail wasted.”
Interesting. Maybe the woman and Gill were well suited. On the other hand, if Margie was a killer, she would have been quicker to point the finger at their neighbor. Of course, she was in the clear at the moment since Annie was suspect number one.
Margie unfolded her list, showing Annie that she’d written down Raj and Tate down as possibilities with notes about why. According to her bullet points, Raj and Gill had argued extensively and heatedly about Gill clipping Raj’s car. Gill claimed it didn’t happen. Raj had a picture showing Gill’s paint on his car. It seemed like a long shot to Annie, but apparently the two got physical more than once with each other.
“Seems like an unfair fight. Raj is what? Twenty years younger than Gill?”
Margie leaned closer. “Yeah, but they both have tempers and Gill is enough to make anyone lose theirs.”
Hmm. “Guess his cat has a temper, too,” she said absently.
“He doesn’t have a cat,” Margie said, then scoffed. “Cats get up on counters. You haven’t seen Raj’s custom-designed quartz countertops.”
Annie’s eyes widened. Then whose cat scratched him? She pushed that aside for a moment, taking the opportunity Margie offered.
Good segue. “How did you come to find me in his kitchen?”
Margie was pointing to something on the page about other fights the two men had when just her gaze lifted to Annie’s. “The door was open. I was doing my laps around the complex. I do a minimum of six each day. It’s why I’m shaped like a younger Sofia Vergara.”
Annie bit the inside of her lip hard so she didn’t chuckle at the idea that this woman thought she looked younger than the Modern Family actress.
“What about Joseph?”
“He’s a little slower than me, but I think it’s because his mind wanders. He’s about the sweetest man I’ve ever met, but I’ll tell you, it just takes something shiny to distract him.”
At this point, Annie had no reason and all the reasons to suspect everyone around her, but the truth was, it could easily be someone outside the complex.
“Aren’t we going over this at the coffee shop?”
An impatient sigh left Margie’s lips. “Yes, but Raj is joining today, and I can’t exactly have his name down on a suspect list while he’s there, can I?”
“No. I guess not. Why Tate?”
Margie leaned back. “Have you met him?”
Nodding seemed like the safest answer. No details accidentally spilled.
“It’s a weak suggestion, I’ll admit. But he has a history of violence. He was thrown out of the last two schools he attended before coming to live with Bob. That’s his granddad. The parents are split. Bob’s daughter is too wrapped up in her own drama to parent that boy properly so he’d been allowed way too much freedom.”
“Has he been violent while he was here?”
“Not that I’ve seen. He’s protective of his pops though, and there was some bad blood between Bob and Gill. Tate doesn’t do himself any favors, walking around with that hood over his head half the time. Hard to trust someone when you can’t see their eyes.” Margie folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve seen lots of kids like him. Get under that tough shell, and there’s a sweetheart. We just haven’t seen it yet.”
Annie thought of Gill. Whoever killed him stabbed him in the back. Perhaps an act of passion, but even if it wasn’t, it showed cowardice.
As if she sensed Annie’s mood, the elderly neighbor reached out a hand and squeezed her arm. “Are you doing all right? Between seeing the body, my God, I don’t know if I’ll ever wipe that from my mind. I don’t know how police officers and related officials do this all the time.”
Annie shook her head, trying to clear the dark visuals from her brain. She gave the list back. “It’s hard to forget. I keep thinking I’m fine, and then it pops up in my brain. It doesn’t help that I’m worried about being charged for doing something I can’t even stomach thinking of.”
Margie squeezed again, then lowered her hand. “We won’t let that happen. I told your parents I’d keep an eye on you, and I always keep my word. Why don’t you take a walk on the beach? I bet your laptop will be returned in no time. We’ll meet this afternoon and get some answers. Rumor has it Shelby’s taken up residence in your garage with some kittens.”
Annie nodded. “Yeah. We’ve reached some mutual footing. I provide her food and stay out of her way; she doesn’t scratch me.”
Gathering her papers, Margie stood. “Grumpy cat suited him well. Wonder if Mira will take her home. I’m surprised she hasn’t been by yet.”
“I think I need a character chart to keep everyone straight. Who’s Mira?”
“Gill’s daughter. They were close once, but she hasn’t been around in a long time. They had a falling out when Mira refused to work for Gill.”
Annie tucked that piece of information away with the rest of it. She’d considered herself pretty good at figuring out the killer in shows and books before the reveal, but this was proving more complicated. Guess that was the difference between a fifty-minute episode or a three-hundred-page book and real life.
The more she learned, the less she felt like she knew. Her gut told her it wasn’t Margie but, really, how could she possibly know? All Annie could say for certain was it wasn’t her.