"I would never do something like that." Beads of perspiration popped out on her forehead. "Besides, you just said someone saw me delivering the doctor's laundry. Doesn't that give me an alibi?"

"Well, yes, to a certain degree. However, it doesn't take that much time to deliver someone's laundry. Maybe you paid someone to take out the compet.i.tion for you. I hate to point this out, but you do have access to digoxin," I said, pasting on my pitiful face and deciding to roll with the good-cop, bad-cop angle. "All you have to do is tell us the truth about what you were doing inside the doctor's house for all that time. I really don't want to have to bring you in, but I'm afraid this big bad meanie of a detective won't think twice about it."

"Well, I-"

"What is the meaning of this?" Dr. Wilc.o.x stormed into the nurses' station. "Our patients are getting backed up. All of you, follow me. You're causing a scene." He led us into the nearest exam room. "We've already answered all your questions, Detective. What more could you want?"

"You answered all our questions. Your nurse, however, did not."

Dr. Wilc.o.x turned to Nurse Doolittle with a raised brow. "Tina, what's going on? Why wouldn't you answer their questions?"

"They know I dropped off your laundry for you the night of the murder." She hedged, looking like she wanted to say more but couldn't quite bring herself.

"Exactly," the doctor said slowly, giving her a penetrating look. "You're a wonderful help to me, and I really appreciate everything you've done." He paused for a minute. "I don't see what the problem is, Detective."

"The problem is your nurse was in your house way too long on the night of the murder. You weren't home," Mitch said, "and I want to know what she was doing."

"Tina, you don't have to say anything more," Dr. Wilc.o.x said, not sounding surprised that she was at his house for so long that night. "You have the right to remain silent, you know."

She sobbed. "I can't."

"Yes, you can." The doctor took her hand, but she slid hers out of his grip.

"Your nurse said she was being nice and helping you out," I added. "If she would confirm exactly what she was doing at your place while you were at dinner, then she wouldn't be in trouble. Don't forget, Doctor. You're still a suspect as well." I turned to Tina and placed my hand on her shoulder. "We want to help you clear your name. All you have to do is tell us what you were up to."

"I'm calling my lawyer," the doc said, and started to leave, but Tina put her hand on his arm.

"No. It's time. You didn't do anything wrong, and neither did I." She patted his shoulder and then turned to the detective. "I admit I was at the doctor's house for an hour at the time of the murder. And I truly was trying to help him. That morning in the office he and Amanda had a big fight. He was only trying to take care of her, but she wouldn't let him help. He got angry and said things he shouldn't have and then stormed out of the office. I saw him take her file with him, and I was afraid he was going to do something stupid. So I dropped off his cleaning when I knew he'd be gone, and I searched his house. That's all, I swear. Once I found Amanda's file, I left to return it to the office." Tina started crying. "I didn't want to see him hurt any more by that woman."

"I was angry, but I would never do anything as stupid as break a patient's confidentiality," Dr. Wilc.o.x said, staring down at his feet. "I was only trying to scare Amanda into changing her mind about letting me take care of her, but when I called, she wasn't home. So I went to dinner with every intention of returning her file to the office later that night. Nurse Doolittle beat me to it."

"Why wouldn't Amanda let anyone help her?" I asked.

The doctor sighed. "Her tumors were cancerous. We caught it early, but she still needed treatment. She didn't want anyone to know because she didn't want them to replace her at the library. The library was everything to her. She had no family or anyone else to help her. I did so much for her, was willing to do so much more, but she turned me down flat. She was a very proud and stubborn woman. Yes, I was angry, but I wouldn't have broken my oath as a doctor." He stared Mitch in the eye. "You have my word on that."

"I really didn't mean to cause more trouble for you, Dr. Wilc.o.x," Tina said. "Does this mean I'm fired?"

He smiled sadly. "No, I'm not going to fire you, Tina. You're a good nurse, and frankly, this office would fall apart without you. I know you were trying to save me from myself, but it all doesn't matter now anyway. Amanda's gone."

"But I'm still here," the nurse said quietly, and the doctor looked at her as though seeing her in a whole new light. Some men were so blind.

"Well, thank you for your time, Miss Doolittle," I interjected. I grabbed Detective Stone's arm. "We have a thing to go to, don't we?"

He looked down at my hand and paused. "A thing. Right." He reached in his pocket. "Here's my card. If you think of anything else, call me-"

"Day or night. I think they've got it." I dragged him the rest of the way outside, ignoring his scowl. "Can't you see they needed a moment alone? What do you do, order those things by the thousand? I think everyone in town must have one by now."

"Can it, pipsqueak. Your status of partner can be revoked at any time." Detective Grumpy Pants was back to being his grumpmeister self when his cell phone rang.

"Stone here," he barked into the phone and then looked at me.

"What?" I mouthed.

He held up his hands. "Yes, sir. We'll be right there." He snapped his phone closed and frowned.

"We?" I asked. "Right where?"

"Captain Walker wants to see us in his office immediately."

"Sunshine Meadows, I'd like you to meet Chief Spencer and Mayor Cromwell," Captain Walker wasted no time in saying after I followed Mitch inside the police station all the way into Walker's office.

"So nice to finally meet you both," I responded, and shook their hands.

Chief Spencer, a man with a medium build and a full head of salt-and-pepper hair parted on the side and trimmed to precision, looked me over thoroughly. "I trust you're doing your best to clear your name and help solve this case, young lady?"

My smile slipped under a glare as dark as overbrewed Fire Oolong tea. This dude meant business. I nodded vigorously. "Sir, absolutely, sir. I'm detecting lots of stuff." Like whom Detective Stone's role model must be.

The chief's frown put the detective's to shame, and then he nailed the detective with a disbelieving look. "Is she for real?"

"Affirmative, sir." Mitch stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back.

I snapped my spine straight and matched his stance. "That means yes," I couldn't resist adding. The chief's hard gaze whipped back to mine. "Sir," I added. He eyed me critically like he didn't approve of me working on this case any more than Mitch did, but with the mayor up for reelection, he would pretty much give him whatever he wanted.

In this case me, apparently.

"Good, good, young lady," Mayor Cromwell spoke up in a big booming voice. He was short and stocky with an oversized troll head of shocking red hair and small beady eyes. "That's what I like to hear. At least someone is enthusiastic about solving this case." He raised a brow at Mitch, and I could see the detective's molars grinding beneath his cheek.

"Oh, believe me, Detective Grum-uh, Stone-works harder than anyone I know." I patted Mitch's arm, and his eyes cut to mine.

"Good, then he won't mind telling me what leads have panned out."

The detective cleared his throat. "Well, none exactly. But I'm still looking into the Ms. Robbins's phone records and personnel files-"

"None?" Cromwell boomed. "What the devil have you been doing, boy?"

"My job," Mitch spat, giving Captain Walker a warning look. "These things take time."

"Detective Stone is one of the department's best," Captain Walker spoke up, and Chief Spencer nodded silently beside him.

"Well, that's not saying much about your department, then." Cromwell scoffed. "Time is something we don't have. Maybe we should put Miss Meadows in charge. We'd probably get faster results."

"Oh, I couldn't." I thought about that. "Although he did make me a partner." I chewed my lip, and Mitch slapped his hands on his hips, his mouth ajar as though ready to read me more than a Miranda warning. "But no, no, no, I really couldn't." Shut up now, Tink, you're making things worse, I thought. The detective was so going to make me pay later. "We have brand-new leads we're going to follow now," I added, hoping to improve the situation.

"Really, and who came up with those, Detective?" Cromwell squared off against Mitch, and it was obvious the two didn't like each other.

Mitch's jaw bulged like it killed him to admit it, but he finally responded, "Miss Meadows."

"I rest my case," the mayor said, throwing up his hands.

Mitch's hands clenched into fists.

"That's right," I said. "We will put this case to rest for sure, Mayor. You can count on us." I grabbed Mitch by the arm and once again pulled him out of a room, calling over my shoulder, "We'll be in touch soon."

Once we were outside, Mitch blew me off and started to storm away toward his car.

"Where are you going?" I sputtered.

"You figure it out, Tink, since you're so good at detecting." He climbed in his car and started the engine.

"Fine, I will," I hollered back at him, but I doubted he heard me over the splatter of kicked-up snow and slush as he drove away.

Having no clue where to go from there, I walked down Main Street like I had the night I first met Detective Stone. It was earlier but still just as picturesque as dusk settled over the old-fashioned town. Light snow fell in big fat flakes softly to the well-tended streets, the bra.s.s streetlamps flickering to life in the ever-darkening sky. I stopped at the now-familiar corner of Main and Shadow Lane and once again entered Smokey Jo's Tavern.

Dim lighting, soft music, and mumbled conversations filled the s.p.a.ce. Just what I needed. A place to blend in and forget my worries.

"Hey, Sunny, you okay?" Jo asked. "You look like you lost your best friend."

"More like my partner." I sighed. "I don't even know what happened." I sat down at the bar since the tables were quickly becoming occupied by the dinner crowd. Besides, I was only one person, and it seemed silly taking up a spot meant for at least two.

"What can I get for you?"

"Iced tea, some chicken fingers, and fries." I was used to eating by myself, but it never failed to remind me how alone I was in this world. I sometimes wondered if it would always be this way.

"Uh-oh. Comfort food. That can't be good." She slid the gla.s.s of tea in front of me and put in my order. "This one's on me."

"Thanks." I took a long drink and then set the gla.s.s down.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite fortune-teller," Sean said with a big grin, looking hotter than ever in his snug baby blue T-shirt and faded jeans. He carried a bin of clean gla.s.ses through the swinging door in the back and restocked the shelves.

"I'm the only fortune-teller, you know." I laughed, enjoying flirting with the rascal. But I knew it would never amount to more than that with Sean. He was G.o.d's gift to women-all women.

"But you're still my favorite, la.s.s." He winked, twirling a liquor bottle expertly like something right out of the movies. "So, how's the case coming along?"

The c.o.c.ktail waitress brought out my food and then left to check on the ever-increasing customers. Bernard Sampson came in and sat at a table by himself. Guess he was still miffed at his wife, Maude, for missing their lunch date. I could relate to his mood.

"Not so good, I'm afraid." I dipped a chicken finger in honey mustard sauce and took a big bite, sighing as I chewed the sweet and tangy delight. My mother would be appalled. "I'm worried we're going to fail," I voiced my biggest fear.

"Only quitters fail," said a deep voice from beside me.

"Hey," I said to Mitch, swallowing hard as I peeked up at him. "You still mad at me?"

"That wasn't about you, Tink. Cromwell and I have a history. You wound up in the middle of it." He snagged a fry, dipped it in ketchup, and popped it into his mouth. After he finished chewing, he looked me in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," I said softly, sliding the plate between us.

"Thanks." He ordered a soda and then pulled out his notebook. "Contrary to one bonehead's beliefs, I have been working. I've been doing some digging."

"And . . . ?"

"Nothing. Not a blessed thing. Looks like we're back to the drawing board."

"This day just keeps getting better and better," I grumbled.

"As much as I hate to admit it, the mayor is right. We are running out of time and out of leads."

"Then maybe we should up our game."

He eyed me warily. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking it's time I became a babe."

12.

"So, what do I do again?" I asked as I sat at a table in Lulubelle's kitchen, not feeling like a babe in the least. There were a total of three tables, with four women at each one. Jo's group was winning, so she was at the head table in the dining room, while the rest of us were at the lower tables in the breakfast nook and island. I sat next to a black-and-white-cow cookie jar and Belle herself.

"You roll the three dice and hope they land on whatever round we're on. In this case, fives." She sipped her margarita and nibbled on a finger sandwich. "Don't worry, sweetie. Bunco is a lot of fun once you get the hang of it."

I rolled the dice but didn't land a single five. "Sorry. Hope I don't make your team lose."

"Oh, posh." She waved her hand. "It's all about the booze and the snacks." She threw her dice, bouncing them off the chest of the woman across from her. The women snorted on a laugh, and Belle let out a squeal while she tossed her hands up in the air, yelling, "Bunco!"

I clapped my hands, a.s.suming her squealing was a good thing. "I like your bangs, by the way. How's Big Don?"

"Aw, thank you, doll face." She beamed, and then her smile dimmed a little. "Still just as big and blind as ever." She shook her head, and her chubby cheeks wiggled. "Cheers." She held out her gla.s.s.

"It's his loss, then," I said, clinking my gla.s.s to hers, but I didn't take a sip. She looked surprised and motioned for me to bottoms up. "I'm not really much of a drinker."

"Oh, come on, sugar, live a little. They weren't kidding when they said life's too short."

"Well, that's true." I tipped my margarita up and chugalugged. "Oh boy." My eyes nearly crossed. I'd have to pace myself, or I'd be calling one yummy detective to come tuck me in. Hmmm, then again . . . "No." I blinked. So not gonna go there.

"No what?"

"No way am I ever going to be as good as you, but thanks for letting me be an alternate," I said after she finished with her victory jig over her latest score.

"No problem. You and Jo actually helped us out. It takes twelve people to play two teams. Amanda Robbins was one of our regulars, poor dear. We still haven't replaced her."

"Who is the other regular?" I asked above the music and hooting and hollering women.

"Carolyn Hanes," Belle said around a mouth full of chips.

"Really?" I leaned in close, not wanting to miss a word. "I don't know her that well, but she doesn't seem the type to let loose."