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Authors: Sammi Carter

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BOOK: Goody Goody Gunshots
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I stood on tiptoe, trying to see what I wanted on the round displays and wooden tables squeezed into the space. Gavin had come to town at exactly the right time to open his shop, while the real estate was still affordable. The way taxes had soared in the past few years, I doubted either of us would’ve been able to open a shop in the middle of town now.
“I’m looking for some exercise clothes,” I told him. “Something I can wear to the gym or outside if I ever get brave enough to exercise in public.”
Gavin squeezed between two round hanging displays and motioned for me to follow. “Taking up jogging?”
“Maybe.” I knocked a shirt to the floor and bent to pick it up. “I’ve started coaching one of the Youth League basketball teams, and it seems like a good time to get in shape.”
Gavin shot a look over his shoulder. “You’re coaching? Which team?”
“Technically, I’m the assistant coach,” I said. “My nephews are on the Miners.”
That made Gavin stop dead in his tracks. “You’re coaching with Kerry Hendrix?”
“Yeah. Don’t ask.”
He laughed without humor and started walking again. “Okay, I won’t. But Kerry’s not exactly an easy man to get along with. You probably ought to know that if you don’t already.”
“Thanks. I wish I’d talked to you last week. How well do you know him?”
Gavin reached a rack near the back of the store and stopped walking. “Well enough to know that he can be an ass-hole. Just don’t let him push you around, okay?”
I smiled ruefully. “Thanks. It’s hard to know how much to argue with him. I don’t want to embarrass the boys.”
Gavin smiled. “Yeah. Touchy. Kids that age have a tough time. So what kind of exercise are you thinking of doing?”
I shrugged. “My parents gave me a gift certificate for the recreation center last year. I thought maybe I’d check out their exercise equipment.”
“So you’re thinking treadmill? Stair-stepper? Maybe the elliptical?”
Just hearing him list the choices made me tired, but I nodded. “Something like that.”
“Then you’re going to want the stuff in this corner. You want me to help you find sizes?”
Was he kidding? I liked Gavin, but there was some information
nobody
had about me. “If I told you what size I wear,” I said with a roll of my eyes, “I’d have to kill you. I can manage, thanks. Do you have any recommendations?”
He pointed out a couple of good brands, showed me where to find the dressing room when I was ready, and left me to look through the depressingly small, tight clothes by myself. The idea of stuffing myself into any of the things on the first rack almost made me choke, but I didn’t let myself give up. There was no law that said I
had
to wear one of those spandex/sports bra combinations when I exercised.
Freeing myself from the constraints of selecting an outfit, I browsed for twenty frustrating minutes before I found two pairs of workout pants I thought might fit me, and two actual T-SHIRTS, both of which looked like they belonged on someone Caleb’s age. Inside the dressing room, I struggled into the first outfit, saw what I looked like in that T-shirt, and decided then and there that “stylish” and “workout” were not words destined to meet in my vocabulary. I’d leave style to Nicolette.
By the time I returned the T-shirts and carried the pants to the register, night was beginning to fall. Gavin rang up the sale, ran my debit card through, and folded the pants and receipt into a bag. “Enjoy,” he said as he handed it over to me. “And forget what I said about Kerry Hendrix. He’s not the nicest guy in the world, but he’s okay.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him, “you didn’t tell me anything new. He accused me of vandalizing his truck the other night, so I already know just how friendly he is.”
Gavin’s smile faded. “He accused you of what?”
Briefly, I explained about the truck and seeing the man limping away from it. “Of course Kerry doesn’t believe that I’m innocent,” I said as I finished the story, “because he didn’t see the guy or the SUV that picked him up. I think Brody, Caleb, and I are the only people who
have
seen him.”
“The guy with the limp?” Gavin asked. “Short guy? Hasn’t shaved in a few days?”
My head shot up with a snap. “Yes, have you seen him?”
“Yeah, a couple of times. As a matter of fact, I saw him walk by the store while you were in the dressing room.”
“Just
now
?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Did you see where he went?”
Gavin shook his head. “He was walking past the store going west. That’s all I know.”
“How long ago?”
“I don’t know. Five, ten minutes.”
Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I snatched the bag from him and bolted for the door. “Do me a favor,” I called back as I ran. “Call the police and ask for Detective Jawarski. Tell him what you told me.”
“Wait a second.
Abby!

He shouted something else, but I was already gone. The limping man had slipped through my fingers twice already. I wasn’t going to let him do it again.
Chapter 13
Max was waiting for me right where I’d left him.
He leaped to his feet when he saw me come through the door, alert and ready for anything. Too bad he couldn’t tell me where the man with the limp had gone.
I glanced in both directions as I untied Max’s leash from the bench leg. To the east lay the town square, mostly empty this time of night. To the west, Prospector Circle, City Hall and a bunch of other deserted city offices including the police station. Across the street a couple of customers milled about inside Curl Up and Dye. Beside it, the credit union’s windows were dark.
Gavin had said that the limping man passed his store heading west, but it seemed doubtful that he’d make a run for the police station, which meant that he’d probably turned onto Twelve Peaks Road at the next corner. Where he’d gone from there was anybody’s guess.
Chasing him might have been foolhardy, but I was still angry about the stunt he and his friend had pulled at Hammond Junction, and I wasn’t interested in taking the rap for the damage he’d done to Hendrix’s truck.
Holding on to the slim hope that I’d be able to find him, I ran to the corner and checked the street in both directions. Max followed eagerly, interested, if slightly confused, by this fun new activity.
“Where’d he go, boy? Did you see him? The man with the limp?”
Max planted his butt on the sidewalk and panted. I appreciated his enthusiasm, but I wished he could be a little more help.
The sound of hurried footsteps reached me half a second before a woman barreled around the corner. I was too distracted to recognize Paisley Pringle, owner of the Curl Up and Dye, until she was almost past me. “Abby?” She stopped so fast I almost expected to smell burning rubber. “Hey! How are you doing?”
Paisley’s a friendly woman, if a bit ditzy. She’s always trying to convince me to let her “fix” my hair. I don’t mean to sound fussy, but if Paisley’s hair was any indication of what I could expect, I’d pass.
Paisley fluffed her short reddish hair with the fingers of one hand. Last time I saw her, she had long, bluish black hair that fell to the middle of her back. Today, her hair was about two inches long. That’s not unusual for Paisley. Her hair color and style are different almost every time I see her, thanks to the magic of dye and extensions. Even so, I’ve yet to see her wearing a combination I’d consider letting her re-create on my head.
That didn’t mean I wanted to alienate her, though. Paradise is still a small town, and people here have long memories.
I tried to look friendly back. “I’m fine, thanks. Busy.” I didn’t want to open the door for a lengthy conversation, but my mother would have killed me if she saw me behaving that rudely. “How about you?”
“The same. Gearing up for the holidays. You know how that is. You’re away from the shop early. Taking a little time off?”
“Actually, no.” I said. “I’m running some errands, having an early dinner.”
Paisley smiled and glanced at her watch, a chunky silver thing that looked as if it weighed about ten pounds. “Are you through for the day? I just had a cancellation. I have time to give you a quick cut and blow-dry if you’re interested.”
I had no idea how many times I’d have to say no before Paisley realized I meant it, but apparently it was at least one more time than I’d said it already. “No thanks. I’m right in the middle of something.”
Paisley bent to scratch Max and ran a glance over the bag I was carrying. “I see you’ve been to Gavin’s.”
Paisley has a talent for getting people to spill their guts without asking a single question. I’m not sure how she does it, but I actually felt a twinge of guilt for not telling her what was in the bag. “Yeah,” I said. “Listen, I need to get back. Karen’s running the store on her own.” Technically true. I considered Liberty too new to be of much help.
“Oh. Sure. Of course. I saw your ad in the
Post
. You’re looking for help?”
I nodded, chafing at the delay and trying not to show it. “We decided it’s time.”
“Any luck so far?”
Since I’d just claimed that Karen was alone, I was hesitant to admit the truth. But Paradise is too small to tell a lie, especially one that could be discredited faster than a kid can eat a handful of gummy bears. “Actually, Karen found someone already, so I guess we’re all set. That’s . . . uh . . . that’s why I have to get back. She’s running the store
and
training the new clerk.”
“Well that’s great! Who did you hire?”
“You probably wouldn’t know her,” I said, relieved that she didn’t seem suspicious about my conflicting stories. I glanced around again in case the limping man had come back, but I still couldn’t see him. In the process, my gaze skimmed across Paisley’s eager face, and another twinge of guilt plucked at me. Determined to prove that my mother had instilled a few manners in me, I tried to give Paisley my full attention. “Her name’s Liberty Parker.”
“Liberty? Of course I know her. She grew up here, you know.”
“That’s what she said.”
“She’ll be great. I remember her as being a very friendly girl. Popular. She’ll be a good draw for you. If you’re hiring, that must mean you’re doing well.”
“We’re doing fine, I think. At least for now.”
She smiled, and we shared a moment. Two small business women who understood that life as a shop owner was never stable. Every day brought a new challenge, and nothing was ever guaranteed. “I heard you talking as I came around the corner,” she said just as I was about to make an excuse and leave. “You said something about a man with a limp?”
Had I? I dimly remembered talking to Max, but I couldn’t remember what I’d said. “I thought I saw someone I know. I must have been wrong.”
“The guy with a limp? You know who he is?”
She sounded more than idly curious, which piqued my own curiosity. “Why? Have you seen him?”
She nodded. “He’s been hanging around for a couple of days. He never says anything, and he never tries to come inside, but he makes me kind of nervous anyway. But if he’s a friend of yours—”
“He’s not a friend,” I said quickly, “just someone I ran into a few days ago. Do you have any idea where I can find him now?”
Paisley shook her head thoughtfully. “I saw him about ten minutes ago, but I have no idea where he went.”
I was disappointed but not surprised. “Is he usually here at this time of day?”
She shook her head again. “No. He doesn’t really keep a schedule that I’ve noticed. He’s just . . . there sometimes.”
That didn’t surprise me either. It would have been nice to know when I could find him again, but I was thrilled to find two other people who’d seen him around town. I’d been standing still so long my fingers were beginning to hurt from the cold. I made a two-handed fist and breathed on it to warm my fingers. “Have you ever seen him with anyone? Getting into or out of a car?”
Paisley tilted her head to one side and thought a bit harder. “I don’t remember seeing him with anyone else. I could ask Mom. She’s seen him, too. Maybe she’s noticed something I haven’t.”
“Could you ask and let me know? It’s really important that I find him. But if you see him, please don’t tell him I’m looking for him.”
“Ooh,” Paisley said with a grin. “That sounds mysterious.”
I didn’t want to spark a wholesale panic by telling her the truth, but neither did I want to leave her thinking that I was playing some kind of game. “It’s not really,” I said. “I need to talk to him about something that happened the other night. I think he’s trying to avoid me, that’s all.”
Paisley’s smile slipped, and the spark faded from her eye. “Oh. Okay. Well, then, I should let you get back to work, and I’d better do the same.”
She trotted across the street, and I went back to trying to figure out where the limping man had gone. I couldn’t see anything in either direction likely to interest him, but with dozens of alleyways, parking lots, and miniature parks dot-ting the city, he could be anywhere by now.
Swallowing disappointment, I decided to take the long way back to Divinity and turned south on Twelve Peaks. I still had fifteen minutes left of my break, and a brisk walk to clear my head seemed like a good idea.
Max fell in beside me, and we walked around three legs of a block. We’d just crossed the street and started the long pull up the steep incline that was Grandview Drive when Max’s ears shot straight up, and he let out a high-pitched whine.
This wasn’t the first time since he’d become my dog that he’d done that, and a warning bell sounded in my head right away. If Max followed his usual pattern, the next step in this dance was taking off at a dead run. I tightened my grip on his leash, but I was a split second too late. His claws scrambled for purchase on the pavement, caught, and he was off.
He darted through the sparse traffic and into the parking lot of Walgreens, while I panted after him. I could see him dodging cars in the parking lot, turning, and weaving through the line at the drive-up prescription window.
BOOK: Goody Goody Gunshots
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