Thrown Off: A Cozy Mystery (Brenna Battle Book 3) (11 page)

18

I tightened my laces and took off, my royal blue running shoes flashing along the pavement. I kept my face down, shielded by the brim of a black baseball cap. I’d decided to go with the “casual jogger” look
 
instead of “black ops.” I figured this apartment building on the outskirts of town was a little less small town in feel and a little more likely to have wary residents on the lookout for crime. I even wore a shirt with thin, reflective stripes on the back to avert suspicion. I was pretty proud of myself for thinking of that one. It was a lightweight, wind-breaker-like shell. Underneath it was a much more stealth-friendly black T-shirt.

In the Salty Grove parking lot, I found Hayley's car parked next to an empty spot with
A-29
painted in the middle. The other spots around it were full. It was impossible to see the pattern and figure out whether Hayley's spot was one number higher or one number lower. I got down on my stomach with my phone and keys in my hand and shined my phone’s light under the car. If anyone questioned me, I’d say I dropped my keys and they fell down there. I made out a distinct
30
. Okay,
A-30
it was.

I jogged around building
A
until I saw number
30
. It was on the second floor. Well, that certainly wasn’t going to make snooping any easier…unless…all the second floor apartments had balconies. I jogged around a corner, slid into the shadows, and peeled off the reflective shell. I stuffed it behind a bush. The evening air felt good and cool on my bare arms. I was right next to the apartment below Hayley's. Instead of a balcony, the first floor apartments had sliding glass doors that opened onto patios. Her downstairs neighbor left the glass doors open and the screen shut. I could hear some kind of sitcom playing on the TV

Someone laughed. I peeked around the corner and saw a woman, apparently transfixed by the show. I took the chance and sprinted past the open door, then pressed myself against the side of the building. I tried to filter out the sound of the TV and listen for any sound from upstairs. What was I planning to do? Break in? I refused to let myself ask those questions. I didn’t let myself make any plans beyond getting here, getting in position—to what? I was just going to play it by ear.

And hope something falls in my lap? The only thing that ever falls in your lap is trouble, Brenna Battle.
But hey, I never said I was a planner. I only knew that I had to do something. And whatever trouble I ended up making, I’d already found two murderers using these methods, hadn’t I?

“Hello?” I heard a woman’s voice say from above.

I stiffened. Was she talking to me?

“No, I still haven’t found anything.”

Nope, not talking to me. And that voice sounded an awful lot like Hayley, standing right on the balcony. Hayley kept talking, but her voice faded a little. She’d stepped further away. I heard the screen door above open, then shut, and I could barely hear Hayley's voice. I couldn’t make out what she was saying at all.

I grabbed the post supporting the balcony, wrapped my legs around it, and started heaving myself up. I really needed to get myself a pull-up bar. Maybe even install a rope in the dojo ceiling. I was getting weak. And I wasn’t liking the square pole at all. There’s just nothing about corners that isn’t sharp. They kept cutting into my bare legs.

I made it to the top quickly though, and grabbed the lip of the balcony. Now I just had to hoist myself up and over the railing without making any noise and—

The screen door opened. I shimmied down the railing I’d just scaled. I was staring right at Hayley's back. I held my breath until I thought my lungs would burst.

“I know,” Hayley said. “I’m glad she’s gone. I’m glad she’s dead. That cow got what she deserved. Uh-huh. Really?”

I let out my breath and took another shaky one. If my arms weren’t already starting to shake from holding myself up in a dead hang in a very awkward position, with my hands around the balcony slats, I would’ve been shaking in my running shoes anyway. I was just inches away from a murderer. A cold-blooded murderer who was glad about what she’d done.

I let my hands slip down along the slats, keeping control of my descent. I had to get out of sight. I made it down to the lip of the balcony and clutched it with my fingers. I don’t think I’ve ever been more thankful for a strong grip. I had no choice but to stay in a dead hang. I wanted as little of me as possible in sight. If Hayley happened to look down, my fingers were the only things to see.

Should I drop down? Should I just get out of here? I couldn’t just cut and run when she was giving me such valuable information. If only I could get to my phone so I could record this. Who was she talking to? That’s what I really wanted to know. Whoever it was, they knew what she’d done. They were complicit in it, even if they didn’t push the ladder themselves. Maybe she was talking to whoever did the deed. Maybe it was a man, and that was why Glenda thought she saw a male figure. A man under orders from Hayley, or a man who felt the same way about Millie and decided to kill her himself?

“But she got out? Someone let her out? Too bad. Well at least that’ll teach her to mind her own business.”

Whoa. Hold on.
Was Hayley talking about me? I looked up to glare at her, just in time to see one of her fashionable flats—about to come down on my fingers. I quickly let go of that hand and gripped a little further down the patio. My fingers were killing me. And it was getting harder and harder to keep quiet when I really felt like panting like a madwoman.

Hayley was a pacer, and she was pacing right along the railing. I desperately walked my hands along the lip of the balcony, trying to outrun Hayley's footsteps.
Just get away from the railing, for the love of my precious fingers, Hayley!
It was like racing my childhood friend Timmy Gooley on the monkey bars. I couldn’t just slide my hands along because the slats that formed the wall of the railing were in the way. I had to let go and re-grip, right in the spaces between them.

The feet stopped.

“What the—!” The way she said it, I knew Hayley wasn’t talking to whoever she had on the phone. It was an exclamation of utter shock. She’d seen something. She’d seen me.

19

I let go of that ledge like a hot potato, dropped, and rolled under the balcony, toward the building. I didn’t pause to find out if Hayley's downstairs neighbor saw me. I kept rolling until I was around the corner. I expected Hayley to scream, to call 9-1-1, but all I heard was some swearing, then her throwing open the screen door. Maybe she wasn’t going to call the police. After all, she was very likely a killer. Maybe she preferred to take care of business herself. What a comforting thought!

I heard an apartment door open and slam. Dear God, she was coming after me! I ran like the entire Cuban women’s judo team was on my tail, ready to pay me back for that little prank I’d pulled in the throes of exhaustion at the infamous Pan American judo camp from hell three years ago. I heard feet pounding down the concrete steps, but after that all I heard was the blood pounding in my ears and my heart slamming in my chest. I didn’t slow down until I got to my car, and then I dove in and locked the doors. I could handle Hayley hand-to-hand just fine, but if she was armed, well, I was a judo Olympian, but I didn’t have any magic ninja dust. My superpower was guzzling coffee and burning through just about any dessert in record speed.

My hand was shaking so bad with adrenaline, I struggled to get the key in the ignition. I got the truck started and took a deep breath.
Be calm, Brenna. Be cool
. I drove carefully, just above the speed limit. I didn’t want to attract the attention of the police. I’d left my reflective shell behind the bushes. If Hayley called the police, if they searched the area, they’d find it. And I was pretty sure Will had seen me wearing that thing once or twice.

I guessed that wouldn’t matter if I went to Will with what I knew right away. If I went to the police, could I be charged with something? Trespassing? And how much evidence did I have, really? Right now, I just needed to get out of here. I pulled over a few blocks away from home and made some notes about what I’d overheard. I was pretty convinced Hayley had been talking about me getting shut in the freezer. There was more than one person responsible for Millie’s death, in one way or another. Was Hayley still friends with someone at the store? Had she put them up to killing Millie?

#

As I drove home, I passed Lourdes and Carlos’s house, and I saw police lights. My heart started racing all over again. Then their front door opened, and Chief Sanders came out, accompanied by officer Tony Pfeiffer. Between them was Carlos, in handcuffs. Without even thinking, I slowed and pulled up to the curb. Lourdes emerged from the house, shaking and crying. My favorite police officer held her by the elbow. I got out of my truck. I had to do something.

What was going on? Did they connect the clothes the killer was wearing with Carlos? Oh, my God. Maybe they found the clothes. Maybe there was evidence of the crime on them. Maybe there was also evidence that they belonged to Carlos. I had to tell Will they had the wrong guy.

Will stopped halfway to his patrol car. He turned and looked at me. “I’m taking Lourdes to The Engine to ask her a few questions. I’m going to need to talk to you, too.”

“Me?”

He nodded. “Stay right there.”

Will put Lourdes in the car, then approached me. “I heard you had lunch with Lourdes and Carlos yesterday. I heard you talked to Carlos. What was that about?”

Heard? From whom? Anyone could’ve seen us having lunch at the park. If they’d started going around town asking questions about Carlos, someone might have mentioned that. I wavered for a moment. I almost said,
Blythe and I are friendly with Lourdes and Carlos. Miss Ruth asked them to look out for us. We talk every now and then. So what?

But hiding what I knew, what I’d been doing, wasn’t going to do anyone any good.

If Will found out, if he knew what I’d kept from him—He was going to kill me. It was going to be over between us. Something tugged at me inside, and I suddenly felt that stinging, lumping sensation that means tears. Years of training with and competing against some of the toughest, most hardened women in the world had taught me how to mask my feelings. How not to feed those sharks who’d sniff out my fear, any emotional weakness, like blood in the water, and tear me to shreds. The mask came on, automatically. Just like it always did in combative situations.

“We talked about the murder,” I said. “Carlos told me he thought the killer took his clothes and wore them.”

Will was visibly taken aback, not just at that admission, but at the way I said it. I sounded cold; I knew it. I didn’t know how to do this, this relationship thing. Not with a normal person. No, not a normal person. Will was so much more than a normal guy.

“I see.” The muscles in his jaw tensed.

I don’t think I’d ever seen him so mad. Especially at me. I pressed on. There were more important things to consider here, like Carlos’s future. And truth, justice and the American way. I always loved those old Superman movies. “Listen, I’m glad you want to talk to me, because I have a thing or two to tell you about Hayley Radiguet. The person who really killed Millie Brown.”

Will gave me a strange look. “We’ll talk at the station. Meet me there right away,” he said, and he went back to his cruiser.

He might as well have said,
Don’t make me come get you
, with that tone.

“Sensei Brenna, what are you taking about? Hayley didn’t kill Millie.” I turned around to see that Sammi had come up right behind me on the sidewalk.

“Sammi! What are you doing here?”
In my business, again!
I wanted to scream.

“I just walked Katie home from my house.”

“And who’s walking you home?”

“This is Bonney Bay.” She pronounced each word extra slowly, as if I were a little slow myself.

“Right, it’s Bonney Bay, and there’s a murderer on the loose. You need to stay out of this. It’s dangerous,” I whispered fiercely.

“I’m not
in
this. Sorry if I couldn’t help hearing you say something really dumb.”

“
Sammi
.”

“Sorry. I just don’t want you to make yourself look stupid. Hayley Radiguet is Katie’s mom’s friend, and I know she didn’t do it.”

Not this again. I thought Sammi was finally coming to terms with the fact that just because someone was a friend, or even family, it didn’t mean they weren’t guilty of a crime. But I didn’t try to argue with Sammi right away. I might be able to get some useful information out of her if I didn’t alienate her first.

I pulled her aside. “What do you know about Hayley? Tell me everything.”

“Well, I
could
tell you everything, but probably the only thing you need to know is that she was at Katie’s house when Millie died.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure. You’re not the only one who thought Hayley might have something to do with it.” Sammi crossed her arms and smiled smugly. “As soon as I found out Millie was hurt, I thought,
Hayley!
Because I knew she hated Millie. I heard her say it all the time. She’s at Katie’s house a lot. But then I heard what time she fell off the ladder, and I realized Hayley couldn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Maybe you got the time wrong. The time she was at Katie’s house, I mean.”

“No. I remember because my favorite show was on. You can ask Katie. She was there, too. Hayley was in the kitchen talking to her mom the whole time.”

“Sammi, don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“About Katie’s mom and Hayley being friends?”

“About Carlos being arrested!”

Sammi shrugged. “Okay, I won’t tell.”

This was just great. One big disaster, one epic humiliation, all for nothing. And now, if word got out, Carlos would be ruined. Assuming he didn’t deserve to be ruined, and spend the rest of his life in jail for murder. How could he be guilty? How could Hayley
not
be guilty? Of course, just because Hayley wasn’t the one who pushed Millie, that didn’t mean she didn’t have anything to do with it.