Dressed To Kill (A Tourist Trap Mystery, #4)

Even in the darkened room, I could see his face turn pale. “Not me. I’m more of a camera guy myself. Shoot and release.” Even though Justin tried to joke it off, I could see he was thinking about finding Kent’s body. Amy was right, Justin was better, just not totally healed.

As soon as the beers were finished, Greg and I said good-bye to Amy and Justin and walked toward town. “That was nice.”

Greg took my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. “This is nice. That was fun.”

“You always have to have the last word, right?”

Greg chuckled, the sound seeming to echo in the empty street. “Just a clarification, not an argument.” He brought the back of my hand up to his lips and kissed it. “You want to tell me that acting out some play is nicer than spending some one-on-one time together without anyone to interrupt?”

“Well, when you put it that way . . .” I leaned my head into his shoulder, grateful for the heat radiating from his body. The night had grown cool, and I’d left the house with only my light jacket. “Very, very nice.”

We turned the corner and started strolling down Main Street. The lights glowed softly, making South Cove look more like an English village than a California tourist stop. As we passed by the recently replanted flower pots, the floral smell mixed with the sea salt on the breeze. I leaned into Greg’s arm.

“I kind of love it here,” I murmured. When he didn’t answer, I tilted my head to see his face. He was staring across the street. “What’s got your attention? Some beach bunny in a bikini?”

My gaze followed his and landed on the bank. No one seemed to be around, but now Greg had stopped walking.

“What’s going on?” I nudged him.

He stepped away from me. “Shh. Go to the shop and call Toby.”

“No one’s at the shop, Aunt Jackie closed about ten minutes ago.” I peered closer at the brick building Greg was so intent on watching. I repeated, “What’s going on?”

He turned toward me. “Listen to me without questioning, please. Go to your shop and lock the doors behind you. Once you’re in the building, call Toby. Tell him to meet me here.”

I froze beside him and felt his gentle push. “Go, Jill. It’s probably nothing, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Be careful,” I whispered, then I started power-walking the short distance to my building, digging in my purse for my keys without stopping or looking in the large tote. My fingers grazed the cool metal, and I pulled the key ring out before I crossed the street.

My hands were shaking so hard, I kept missing the keyhole. Get a grip, Jill.

On the third try, the key slipped into the lock and I heard the opening click when I turned the key. As I was about to enter, a hand grabbed hold of the metal frame of the door and I screamed.





CHAPTER 18


“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” a familiar female voice spoke right behind me. She stood so close, I could feel her hot breath on my neck. I turned to find Cheryl Paine standing there in jeans and a black silk shirt. She must have dressed for the weather as she had on one of those skiers’ parkas, the ones with the mountain name emblazoned on the front.

A nervous laugh bubbled out of me. The keys jingled in my hands due to their violent shaking. “Well, apparently I scare easily. What are you doing out here in the dark?” I glanced around, but there were no other businesses open. I strained to try to see Greg near the bank in the gloom with no luck. The street, which had seemed so romantic a few minutes ago, seemed to have too many shadows. Even The Glass Slipper, a stained-glass shop that often had weeknight classes, appeared dark. Where had Cheryl come from?

“I ate a late dinner at the diner up the street and was trying to check in on the businesses I’d talked to earlier this week to see if they had any questions.” She nodded to the empty shop. “Can we talk for a while?”

“Actually, we’re not open. I’m waiting for the police chief to arrive; we have a safety survey he does every six months.” She didn’t need to know I was alone here until Greg and Toby figured out what was going on at the bank. I wasn’t sure why I used Greg’s position instead of his name, but something was off about Cheryl tonight, including her explanation of why she was on the streets.

Cheryl’s eyebrows raised, an amused expression filling her face. “Interesting. Kent never mentioned any South Cove safety audits.” She paused. “Maybe it’s just because he’s your boyfriend that your business gets special treatment?”

I twisted around to face her and closed the door partway, using my body to block the entry. “I don’t like to advertise our relationship, especially to people I’ve just met.”

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