When I passed the bank, the lights were all on, and the door stood wide open. I stopped across the street, watching to see an employee come out, or the janitorial crew pile out of the building. But nothing, no one, came. I dialed Toby’s cell.
“Hey, why are you calling me? Dontcha know I’m not here?” His message machine told me to leave a number and he’d get right back to me. Probably first thing tomorrow morning. I still left a message about how the bank was open for all to walk in and take what they needed. I dialed Greg’s number and it went straight to voice mail, too. I glanced around the empty street. There was no one to help.
I took a step toward the bank building, then froze. A shadow crossed over the window. Someone was in the building. This wasn’t just a prank. I turned and power-walked back to Sherry’s store. Now, in the gloom, I could see the front shop lights were off. That was curious. The store appeared closed. I tried the door and it creaked open.
Stepping into the dark, I waited a second for my eyes to adjust, then headed to Sherry’s office. I’d seen the dark wooden door with an honest-to-God nameplate stuck in the middle, her full name engraved in gold during the Business-to-Business meeting. The woman was nothing if not predictable.
I put my hand up to knock, but then heard voices. Angry voices. Swinging the door open, I stepped into the brightly lit room. “Look, I hate to break up this charming conversation, but we’ve got trouble at the bank.” Both Greg and Sherry stared at me. They were both sitting on tall café table chairs, their arms resting behind them. But then I saw their arms weren’t resting; they were tied. “What the heck?”
“Let her go,” Greg ordered to someone standing behind me. Suddenly, I could feel a person’s breath on my neck.
I turned around and faced Leslie Talman. The crafter-slash-bank teller-grandma stood a few feet away. With a gun pointed at my chest.
She waved it toward a third chair. “You are such a busybody, Jill. You really need to learn to stay out of problems that aren’t yours. From what I’ve seen, you need to get a tighter hold on your man, too. Unless you want to lose him to this hussy.”
“I am not a hussy.” Sherry stuck her chin out in what must have seemed like a position of power. It was just pretty hard to take her seriously with her hands tied behind her and a cord tying her waist to the chair.
I slowly stepped over to the chair. From what I had seen, we were out of options. There would be no cavalry saving us tonight. Darla would think I was skipping the rehearsal to avoid talking to her about Kent. She already knew Greg might be working tonight. Leslie had more than a day before anyone would miss us. Or maybe longer.
I climbed onto the third stool. All I could think of was what would happen to my dog. Amy’s apartment was way too small for Emma, and she hadn’t even stopped growing yet. For her sake, I needed to fight, to hold on as long as possible so someone could find us. So I jumped off the stool.
“What are you doing? Do you want me to shoot you?” Leslie waved the gun at me. “Get up on that chair, now.”
“Not until you tell me how and why you killed Kent.” I folded my arms, trying to look determined rather than shaking like a falling leaf.
“You killed Kent? Why? I know he wasn’t sleeping with you.” Sherry looked befuddled.
Leslie walked up and slapped her across the face. “Shut up. I should just kill you now and figure out a story later.”
Trying to get her attention away from Sherry, I said, “You hired that hooker the day he died, didn’t you?”
Leslie’s face broke into a wide grin. “You figured that out, did you?” She did a slow clap, each time jerking the gun and making me twitch. “I’m impressed. Your boyfriend here has been clueless all along, but you, a coffee shop waitress, had an idea.”
“You bought cocaine from Conner, then what? Sprinkled venom from the poison dart frog on the stuff, letting it dry before returning it to the Baggie Conner supplied?” Now I was just making things up, but from Leslie’s reaction, I was closer than I’d known.
“Very good, you should be our town’s police detective, not this idiot who can’t seem to decide who he’s going to take to bed.” Leslie poked Greg in the leg with the gun. To his credit, he didn’t react.
“I can’t figure out where you got the poison, though. According to the pet store, those frogs are harmless.” Hope kept me talking, but fear made my words run fast.
She stepped away from Greg, and my heartbeat slowed for a second. “You didn’t do your research then. The difference between the frogs in the wild and in captivity was what they ate. All I had to do was feed Anne’s frog some tempting delights and wait.” Leslie focused on Greg again. “I don’t know what you see in this guy. You could do so much better.”