Just in Time. Suzanne Trauth
road leading to State Route 53. Timothy’s Timely Service station was up ahead, and I slowed down. As I drove by, I located Ruby’s Toyota parked prominently among the cluster of cars awaiting service. I had personal experience with Timothy’s earlier in the year, and “timely” might have been a slight exaggeration. I gazed in my rearview mirror. A pinpoint of light flicked on inside Ruby’s car. The service station was closed. I tapped my breaks and when I looked up into the mirror again, the light had disappeared. Was it my imagination?
I brushed off a spooky sensation and pressed the gas pedal, beating it back to Ames and my home in minutes. I climbed out of the car, scooting to my front porch. Inside the house, I yawned, looking forward to hunkering down in bed, maybe reading a chapter or two—
“Hey.”
“Argghh!” I jumped and released my bag.
Bill leapt off the sofa. “What’s the matter?” he screeched groggily.
“What are you doing here?” I gasped, my heart doing a trampoline act.
“Thought you’d like some company. I came over a couple of hours ago and laid down on the sofa for a minute. Guess I fell asleep,” he said.
“I guess.” I collapsed into my recliner and exhaled my fright. “You scared me. I didn’t see your cruiser outside anywhere.”
Bill rubbed his beard. “I like to keep things between us on the down low. I drove my BMW and parked it down the block.”
“It doesn’t matter where you park your car. Etonville has eyes and ears on us.”
“Sorry to frighten you. I meant to text earlier but got sidetracked by the ME’s office,” he said.
“Ruby?”
“Yeah. Her blood alcohol level was .06,” he said.
“Not at the illegal level.” I’d become aware of the legal blood alcohol level during an earlier investigation.
“No, but high enough to make driving slightly dicey. Especially given her petite build and body weight.”
“Does he know what she died from? Was it a heart attack or something?”
Bill nodded. “It’s preliminary, but the ME says it looks like carbon monoxide poisoning.”
“She was asphyxiated? Don’t you die of carbon monoxide poisoning in closed spaces like garages? Ruby died on the open roadway.”
“I’m having Timothy go over her car in the morning. Maybe there was a malfunction in the exhaust system. A crack in the manifold or something,” Bill said and rubbed his eyes.
I shivered.
Bill put a protective arm around my shoulder. “You cold?”
“Tired,” I said. No sense in sharing what I thought I witnessed at Timothy’s tonight, especially since I couldn’t be one hundred percent positive that I actually saw something worth sharing.
Bill smiled slyly. “I guess we’d better get you into bed.”
OMG. No mystery chapters tonight.
* * * *
The alarm buzzed a staccato rhythm and I woke up. Buttery sunlight streamed in the bedroom window and I winced. Time to get up already? I pulled the sheet over my shoulder and promised myself ten more minutes to snooze. I was in the middle of a delicious dream…lounging poolside at a luxury resort, soaking up rays and cool breezes, while a handsome man served me a pink drink with an umbrella poking out of it. Was it Bill? Speaking of which…I peeked at the left side of my bed. Somehow, the shrieking of the alarm hadn’t awakened him, though he’d been the one to set it. I studied his blondish beard, spikes of his sandy brush cut sticking up in all directions on his head, and frown lines in the space between his eyes, firmly closed. He must have been exhausted. I kissed the tip of his nose. His eyes fluttered open.
“Yep. It’s six thirty. You wanted to be gone before the neighborhood woke up.”
“Price I pay for a private life,” he griped and threw back the cover.
As if that was remotely possible. “I’ll put on some coffee.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll get some on my way to Timothy’s garage.” He rolled out of bed and dressed in a flash.
I whipped on a bathrobe and followed him to the front door, barely keeping up. “So, talk later?” I asked as he strapped on his belt and holster.
“Sure.” He hugged me, yawning in my ear.
Truly romantic. “Did Edna bring your costume to the municipal building? Until you hear different, the show goes up the end of the week.”
He opened the door.
“And let Penny know if you can’t make the tech tonight. It’s in the park.”
“Got it.”
I grabbed the back of his uniform shirt. “You’re a man of few words this morning.”
He laid a whopper of a kiss on me. “Actions speak louder than words.”
Yahoo!
Bill had no sooner stepped onto my front porch when two of my neighbors, each attempting to control a frolicking dog, immediately stopped their conversation. They waved merrily.
“Hi, Chief,” one said. “Gonna be a beautiful day.”
The other agreed.
Bill ducked his head, practically ran to his car down the block, and I gamely waved back. “Morning!” I was standing in my robe for all the world to see. I scampered back inside and shut the door. Oh well, life in a small town…
I toyed with the idea of hopping back under the covers, but I was too wide-awake now to surrender to my dreams again. I luxuriated in an extra cup of coffee, a slice of toast, and the New York Times. By eight, I was ready to face the day. I stayed in the shower longer than usual, letting the warm water ping off my face and run over my shoulders. Funny that Bill hadn’t mentioned our vacation last night, as he had nearly every day since we first agreed to plan one together. He was so gung-ho about sleeping in a tent, fishing for dinner, preparing a gourmet meal on a camping cook stove. Had he been that preoccupied by Ruby’s death? I pushed thoughts of her passing out of my mind, as I slipped on my black skinny jeans and a stretchy, red, knit top. Red was my power color, and I needed to dive into the day with some energy. Wilson, Henry, the contest-winning entrees—
My cell binged. It was Lola: Are you up? Coffee? Need a favor. I’ll explain. I texted back that I was up and would meet her in twenty minutes. I picked up my keys from the coffee table in the living room and spied a manila envelope. Bill’s name was on the outside, official looking papers on the inside. I’ll bet he needs these today. I’d swing by Timothy’s on my way to Coffee Heaven.
By the time I left my bungalow, the neighborhood was a beehive of activity. The beautiful weather coaxed people outdoors to mow grass, water flower beds, and powerwalk down the street. I whipped out my cell phone and pretended to have a call—never mind that no one was on the other end. If I appeared to be busy, I wouldn’t have to acknowledge my neighbors with anything more than a perfunctory wave. I settled into my Metro and, phone to my ear, my simulated conversation rattling on, I backed out of my driveway. I ditched the phone as I hit the street—no sense tempting fate by pretending to chat illegally.
The roads were already crawling with Etonville residents as I swerved my car down Main Street, avoiding the manhole covers where the Department of Public Works was paving the road. Ralph directed traffic in the opposite direction—standing in the street, gesturing with his arms, blowing his whistle from time to time. I wasn’t sure his actions weren’t clogging the roadway. Glad I was heading north instead of south. I inched along until I could turn left to cut over several streets and swing by Timothy’s service station.
Up ahead I saw Bill’s squad car. Good. I was hoping he was