The next morning, Mac brought me a check for the full amount of rent. By noon, he had moved his belongings into the garage apartment.
I still couldn’t believe that the great MacKintyre Sullivan wanted to live in one of my little guest suites over the garage, but I wasn’t about to complain. In fact, I was thrilled. Not only did I have a reliable tenant paying rent for at least a month and maybe longer, but I also had someone living on the premises who made me feel completely safe. The fact that he was crazy gorgeous was a big bonus.
After lunch, I walked up to the town square and grabbed Lizzie for a quick discussion. We walked out the back door of the shop and stood in the small parking lot.
“What is it?” she asked. “Something’s wrong.”
I had to take a deep breath or two before I could blurt out the question. “You don’t honestly think that Mac Sullivan had anything to do with the murders, do you?”
“What? Of course not,” she said, gawking at me like I was the nutball instead of her. “Who in the world would think that . . . ? Oh.” She blew out her cheeks. “Jane. Oh, boy.”
“Yeah. Jane. What’s the deal?”
“Well, see, I was sort of gushing about Mac coming into the store and I told her what he said. I guess I didn’t make it clear that it was a joke.”
“No, you didn’t. She thought it might be a joke, but she was still a little worried.”
“I’m sorry, Shannon.” She hung her head and stared at the ground. “I’d better call and let her know I was only kidding about Mac.”
“I know that would make her feel better.”
“Of course.”
“She’s scared to death that someone’s trying to set me up for the crimes and that they’re coming after me.”
“I’m scared, too,” Lizzie said. “Nothing like this has ever happened here.”
“I know,” I said, and forcefully changed the subject. “So, you and Mac are new best friends, I guess.”
She patted her heart. “OMG, Shannon. Hal and I had the best time with him. He’s wonderful.”
I smiled. “I agree.” I gave her a quick update on Mac renting the garage apartment, and we commiserated over her daughter Marisa’s crush on a new boy at school. Lizzie was sure the crush signaled the beginning of the end of her little girl’s sweet disposition. I hoped she was wrong, but Marisa had just become a teenager, so anything was possible.
After Lizzie went back inside, I walked home in a much better mood. My friends might be a little crazy, but at least they were my kind of crazy.
? ? ?
Later that afternoon, Jane returned to my house. Even though I had a rugged new tenant, she was determined to stay with me until my father came home from his fishing trip. For dinner, we drank more wine and made linguini with grilled sausages, onions, and peppers.
She left again early Friday morning, and ten minutes later, Chief Jensen called to tell me about my bike.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and assured. “The sheriff’s team has finished going over the bike, so you’ll have it back within a few hours.”
“Did they find anything helpful?” I asked.
“A few prints that didn’t match yours. They’ve sent them to IAFIS along with some prints and fibers from Wendell’s car. It’ll be a while before any results come through.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said, then had to ask, “I don’t suppose someone turned in my hammer.”
“Not yet,” he said. “Try not to worry. That’s our job.”
“I’ll try.” I thanked him again and hung up the phone, feeling guilty despite his nice words. I made calls to Carla and Wade to let them know I would swing by their job sites that afternoon to check in and see what was happening. It felt like ages since I’d been on the job.
I took a few minutes to clean up the kitchen and vacuum downstairs before taking a shower and heading out to visit my crews around town. It was a long day and I was tired, but at five o’clock that afternoon, I walked into the Flex-Time gym and greeted the friendly employees at the front desk. As I slid my membership card through their electronic reader, I spotted Penny in the warehouse-sized workout room, running on the treadmill.
Just watching her work out made my muscles groan a little, but I was determined to get myself back into shape again.
After stowing my gear and my purse in a locker, I went out to the floor just as she was cooling down.
“Glad you made it,” she said, breathless.
“I need a few minutes to warm up on the treadmill and then I’ll catch up with you.”
“Perfect.” She flipped her towel around her neck and walked off, so I took over her treadmill.
As I got up to speed, I glanced around the large workout room. Mirrors lined all the walls so it was easy to see everyone else from where I stood on the treadmill. There was a good crowd this afternoon, but not so many that there were traffic jams at any of the machines. I thought about taking a leisurely swim after my workout, but then realized I’d forgotten my bathing suit. Maybe I’d do that next time to decompress after working out.
Two women walked into the room and I almost groaned out loud. They were Jennifer Bailey and Whitney Reid. It was odd to realize that even though Whitney had been married to Tommy Gallagher for more than twelve years now, I still called her by her maiden name. In my mind, she would always be the high school girl who made my life hell.
Jennifer saw me first and quickly whispered in Whitney’s ear. The two of them seemed to have been frozen in that gossipy high school mode. And maybe I had, too, because my first concern was whether my outfit was cute enough. I checked the mirror in front of me and decided I looked good in a sleeveless lime green top with a jazzy pair of black-and-lime cropped tights.
Unfortunately, Jennifer was wearing the exact same outfit. And wasn’t that just my luck? Maybe it was my imagination, but I was pretty sure I was rocking the lime green look, while the same color made Jennifer’s skin appear sallow.
Of course, Whitney noticed our clothes right away. “Oh, look. Twins.”
Jennifer scowled. “Shut up, Whitney.”
“You shut up,” Whitney said.
It was interesting that the mean girls could be just as mean to each other as to outsiders.
They walked to the other side of the room to use the big Pilates balls, so I ignored the two of them and continued my run. Five minutes later, I slowed down and then came to a stop. After wiping off the machine, I slung my towel around my neck and walked across the spacious gym floor to the free-weight area to find Penny.
She was working out on the bench press and I had to admit, I was a little intimidated. There were way too many weights on the barbell she was lifting.
I had used the bench press a few times when I first joined the gym and was able to work with a personal trainer, but, in general, I preferred to use the machines because I felt more in control of both the weight and my own movements. Penny was way beyond my level, at least when it came to the bench press. I was grateful she’d agreed to work out with me.
“There you are,” she said, straining to lift the weight over her head. “Do you mind spotting me?”
“Not at all,” I said, moving closer to the weight stand to lend her any support she needed. “How much weight are you lifting?”
“Hundred twenty-five,” she gasped, as her biceps bulged from the effort.
“Holy mother,” I muttered. “Those sedate little banker’s suits you wear every day are hiding some amazing muscles.”
She grinned and managed to slide the barbell onto the pins of the rack before letting her head drop back and exhaling loudly. She laid her hands on her chest, trying to catch her breath. When she finally was able to sit up, she glared at me. “Rule number one: you’re not supposed to make me laugh on the bench press.”
I could tell she wasn’t really angry, but I apologized, anyway. “I’m sorry, but you really shocked me. You’re so strong.”
“For my weight and experience, it’s pretty standard.” She grabbed her water bottle and took a long gulp. Once she was standing, she wiped off the bench with her towel and said, “Okay, let me spot you.”
“I’m going to be a severe disappointment to you.” But I went ahead and stretched out on the bench. “I injured my shoulder the other day, so I’d better take it easy. Let’s start with twenty pounds.”
She laughed. “Oh, come on. Even with an injury, you can do better than that.”
“Okay, thirty.”
Shaking her head, she said, “We’ll start with fifty.”
“No way. I’ll go forty.” I was basically in good shape, thanks to my occupation, but I was a novice on the bench press.
“All right, but that’s nothing. A ten-year-old could lift that much.”
I laughed. “I’m okay with that.”
“So am I, because the barbell weighs ten pounds on its own. So you’ll be lifting fifty after all.”
“Diabolical,” I muttered.
She chuckled as she reset the weights on each side and then gave me the thumbs-up sign.
I grabbed hold of the bar with both hands and lifted it carefully off the sturdy pins that were screwed into the rack. “Oh, God.”
“Bring it down first, easy, easy,” she said softly. “That’s it. Now lift.”
“I’m so out of shape,” I said on a rush of breath. I thought my aches and pains from the bicycle accident had faded, but they now came roaring back with a vengeance.
“No, you’re not,” she insisted. “You look good. You should be lifting at least ninety pounds, by the way. That’s just according to your size.”
“No way.”
“I’m serious. Now on the next lift, focus on your pecs. Feel those muscles working. Can you feel them?”
“Are you kidding?” I could feel them screaming.
“Isn’t that the best feeling there is?” she asked.
“Hey, Penny.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Jennifer Bailey catch Penny’s attention.
“Jennifer! Hi!” Penny sounded happy to see her. Go figure. As they started chitchatting, my interest in bonding with Penny wavered. It got worse with every second that Jennifer hung around.
Ignoring me, Jennifer grabbed hold of the rack and swayed coyly. “Whitney had to go home.”
“But you stayed,” Penny said, her tone demure, not sounding like herself.
“Yeah. Did you think about what I asked you?”
“Sure did.” Penny giggled. “I say let’s do it.”
It was odd to hear Penny giggle after watching her kick ass on the bench press, but I wasn’t in a position to judge, having giggled myself a time or two. But never when talking to Jennifer Bailey. She was a vile, angry person. How could anyone possibly giggle around her? Since Penny was new in town, though, I decided to cut her some slack.
“You’re doing great, Shannon,” Penny said, her voice perkier than it had been a minute ago. “Keep it up. I’ll just be a second.”
I was a little miffed when they walked away, but I decided to keep lifting because I figured the stronger I got, the easier it would be to kick Jennifer’s butt. Not that I ever wanted to get close enough to kick any part of her, but the visual worked. I was able to lift the barbell another six times before I was ready to collapse and die. I managed to slide the monster weight back onto the pins and after that my arms fell limply to my sides.
I closed my eyes and listened to myself wheezing. I knew I shouldn’t have lifted that much weight, but I wanted to get back into fighting shape and make Penny proud. It was probably stupid, but I liked her and hoped we would become good friends. Or I had, until I saw her being so chummy with Jennifer.
The one thing I refused to do was compete with Jennifer for Penny’s friendship.
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. You don’t have to compete with anyone, I thought, hating that any time I was around the mean girls, I felt like I was back in high school again.
I was about to sit up when I heard a sudden pop and a loud screech. I looked up and saw that one of the pins had cracked. The front of the pin launched into the room while the back screw dangled from the rack.
And fifty pounds of barbells were about to drop on my head!