Night Of The Living Dandelion Part 13

Jillian had never listened to me in her entire life. I doubted she even listened to Claymore unless he was holding a new credit card in his hand. Poor Claymore. He was fussy, sn.o.bbish, and high-strung but ultimately a nice guy who was too timid for the likes of my cousin.

"Wait," Claymore whispered. "I just heard the door slam." He covered the mouthpiece while he called, "Jillian? Dearest? Are you there?"

I heard footsteps, and a door opening and shutting, then a few seconds later, Claymore said, "Abby, she left, and she didn't take her car keys with her."

"Maybe she went for a walk," I said.

"She had beef blood dripping down her chin. She'll frighten the wits out of anyone who sees her."

"Drive around and see if you can find her. Call me back if you can't."

I slipped my phone back inside my purse and said to Marco, "Claymore said Jillian is now eating raw meat. He's worried because she left the house and didn't take her car keys."

"Do you want me to drive over to their place?"

"No. Jillian is certainly not herself, but she's Claymore's problem now. I'm done handling her crises. I did that for way too many years."

Famous last words.

Everything was humming along quietly at Down the Hatch. The bar was full, though women still dominated the counter, drawn by the charismatic Vlad, who was one of three bartenders for the Sat.u.r.day night crowd. Fortunately, a college basketball game featuring the New Chapel Chargers was playing on the TVs at each end of the bar, drawing most of the male customers' attention.

As we looked for a place to sit, Marco noticed Kyle seated in a booth by himself. "What do you say we have a chat with him?" Marco asked me.

"I'd say it's efficient use of our time. Plus there's nowhere else to sit."

"I'll open with small talk. Then you have a go at what you do best."

"You want me to be s.e.xy for Kyle?"

"I meant nosy. Not that you're not s.e.xy . . . to me anyway."

"I think you should stop right there."

"You got it."

It wasn't that I didn't appreciate Marco's confidence in me, but I wasn't thrilled that he thought my best was being nosy.

Marco stopped at the end of the bar to order beers for us; then he ushered me toward Kyle's booth. "Hey, buddy, got room for two more?"

Kyle had been reading a book but upon hearing his name, he glanced up. "Sure! Have a seat."

"We're not interrupting, are we?" Marco asked, nodding at the thick book.

In reply, Kyle closed the book and slid it to the far end of the table as we settled in across from him.

Marco put the crutches on the floor. "We can't stay long. Just stopped in to check on the place."

"Don't worry. I'm keeping an eye on things for you," Kyle said with a wink.

"What are you reading?" I asked.

"It's a textbook. I'm studying for an exam. Have to keep current on things. Licensing regulations and all. What have you guys been up to?"

"Just hanging out." Marco nodded toward the television. "What's the score?"

"Ten to seven, our favor," Kyle said.

Gert stopped by with our beers and a bowl of peanuts. "There ya go, lovebirds. Can I get you something else, Kyle?"

He checked the bottle in front of him and saw half an inch left. "I'm good, thanks."

"Bring him another one," Marco said, "on the house."

"Thanks, man," Kyle said.

"It's the least I can do for a friend," Marco said. He glanced around, then said quietly, "Any word on whether the coroner established a time of death?"

Kyle finished his beer and set the bottle aside. "I haven't heard, but I'll find out for you."

"How about that copy of one of the coroner's photos?"

"Gosh, I'm sorry. I've been studying so hard I totally blew it off. Look, I'll get it tomorrow, okay?"

Or would he conveniently forget then, too?

"No problem." Marco gave my knee a little squeeze, which I took to mean that it was my turn at bat . . . or hoop. Whatever.

"That looks like a serious medical book," I said, nodding toward the tome he'd pushed aside. "Are the exams really tough?"

"They're so easy, it's embarra.s.sing," he said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I just like to refresh my memory."

If they were easy, why was he studying so hard? "How long have you been an EMT?" I asked, taking a handful of nuts.

"Several years now," he said, and turned his attention to the TV, clearly signaling that he was more interested in the game.

"Do you like being a paramedic?" I asked.

He had to drag his eyes away from the TV screen to answer. "Yeah, I like it. It doesn't pay all that well, but I get a lot of satisfaction out of helping people." He glanced up as Gert put a fresh bottle of beer in front of him. "Thanks."

"Have you always wanted to be a paramedic?" I asked.

Kyle turned his head and gave me a long look, as though puzzled by my interest-or annoyed by the interruption. "Paramedic or whatever, as long as it was in the medical field."

A cheer went up as the Chargers scored. I let Kyle watch the action for a while; then I said, "Ever thought of going back to school to become a doctor?"

"Nah. It takes too much money and too many years of study." Kyle raised the bottle to his lips and drank half the beer from it. Then he and Marco sat forward as a player made a rim shot. Another cheer went up from the crowd when the ball went in.

"How about a nurse?" I asked.

Kyle's eyes darted to my face. "What?"

"A nurse," I repeated. "I thought I heard that you started out in nursing."

He put the bottle down with a thunk, his face turning red. "That was a long time ago."

I pretended to be confused. "Not that long, was it? A friend of mine was in a program about three years ago and said she remembered you."

Wow, I was getting good. That idea came out of nowhere.

"Maybe it was three years," Kyle said testily. "It just seems longer because I've moved on since then."

For the next five minutes, Kyle sat with his back against the booth and a scowl on his face. He didn't cheer, and wouldn't make eye contact with me, as though he was pouting. Then he slid to the end of the bench and said stiffly to Marco, "I've got an early s.h.i.+ft tomorrow. Thanks for the beer."

"Hey, man," Marco said, as Kyle stood up. "Hold up a minute. Did we offend you?"

Kyle sat back down, hands gripping the edge of the table. "I don't appreciate being grilled about my past."

"I'm sorry if you thought I was grilling you," Marco said.

"It was her." Kyle nodded at me, giving me a glare.

Uh-oh. Maybe I wasn't as good as I thought.

"You mean Abby?" Marco asked, pretending surprise. He put his hand over mine and said to Kyle, "She wants to learn how to be a private investigator, so I've been teaching her how to do interviews. She's trying some of her new skills on you, that's all. Don't be offended by it."

Marco was smooth.

Kyle sat back with a thoughtful frown, as though mulling it over, then gave me an apologetic shrug. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Abby. I thought you'd heard about some trouble I had when I was in the nursing program. I guess it's still a sore subject with me. The Willis murder must have brought those old wounds to the surface. I hope you'll forgive me."

I'd forgive, but I wasn't going to forget his reaction.

"I should have explained what I was doing," I said. "But since you mentioned it, would you mind if I asked what kind of trouble?"

"The nursing instructor accused me of stealing drugs." Kyle picked up his beer bottle and swished the liquid around, watching it swirl for a moment before answering. "The accusation was false, of course, and I was cleared, but I didn't get back into the program."

"Why did the Willis murder bring that up?" I asked, playing dumb.

"Because Lori Willis was my instructor," Kyle said, not quite managing to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Why didn't you reapply to the program?" I asked.

Kyle tapped beats on the table with his thumb in an obvious attempt to control his anger. "Because Willis was the instructor and she had it in for me. She knew I was innocent when she brought the charges against me."

"Then why did she do it?" I asked.

"I've always wanted to ask her that," Kyle said. "Guess I'll never have the chance now."

"That was revealing," I said to Marco, after Kyle left. "Did you see how fast his mood changed when I brought up the nursing program? I was going to ask him about his whereabouts Tuesday evening, but after that outburst, I thought better of it."

"I'm glad you didn't, Abby. No sense provoking him."

I sat back and sipped my beer, thinking about Kyle's reaction. "He sure had issues with Lori. That's just the type you have to watch out for, an ordinary guy who can slip under the radar until he reaches a breaking point and then-snap."

"I'm not sure I'd go that far, but he won't slip under our radar. I'll stop by the County Council office in the morning and ask the secretary for his time sheet for last week."

"Can you do that?"

"Kyle is a county employee. All county employee records are open for inspection. In the meantime, Kyle is off our list as a source. If he brings us any information, we'll have to recheck it elsewhere, just in case it's been doctored." Marco got out of the booth. "I have a few things to wrap up in the office. It should take ten minutes max. Want to wait here or come with me?"

I glanced over at Vlad, who was currently unoccupied behind the bar. Maybe now would be a good time to talk to him. "I'll wait here. Would you ask Gert to stop by the booth?"

"I'll send her over."

Marco paused to talk to Gert, then headed toward his office. Gert bustled toward me, her pad in hand. "What can I get you, doll?"

"Would you ask Vlad to come over here when he's got a free minute?"

She hurried off again, motioning for Vlad to bend down so she could whisper in his ear. He straightened and looked at me with those piercing wolf eyes. I gave a little wave, and he signaled that he'd be right there.

Right here? Yikes! I hadn't prepared what to ask him. I had to think of something quick because spontaneous questioning didn't always work out well for a person with a tact deficit.

So, Vlad, how well did you know the dead woman before she was, well, dead?

Talk about tacky! I wasn't usually nervous questioning people. In fact, I pretty much had nerves of steel. What was the matter with me?

Quick, Abby, think. He's almost here.

Small talk. Of course! That was the way to start. But small talk about what? Surely I could come up with something more stimulating than the weather.

Vlad stopped at the booth and smiled. "How is New Chapel's finest florist this evening?" His houseplants! That was the answer. "Fine, Vlad. Thanks for asking. I have some news about your order. Do you have time to sit?"

He glanced over at the bar to see how busy his fellow bartenders were, then slid in across from me. "Has there been another delay?"

Did he have to look so incredibly, disarmingly, d.a.m.nably handsome right now? "Not a new one, but I couldn't remember if I'd told you the reason for the delay." I shrugged, as if to say, No big deal.

Vlad gazed at me in a way that made me think he knew my lame ruse was just that. My face felt so hot that I knew it was flushed, which always made my freckles stand out like bran flakes in a bowl of milk. I hoped he didn't think I was flirting with him behind Marco's back.

Where was Marco anyway? Couldn't he show up about now and spare me further embarra.s.sment? Couldn't someone show up? Please?

I had no choice but to forge ahead. "It turns out my supplier is having difficulty getting your voodoo lily. But everything else should be in on Monday." I gave him a sheepish shrug.

Vlad leaned forward, his hands folded together on the table. "Are you all right, Abby?"

As right as a train wreck could be. "Of course. Did you know Lori Willis?"

d.a.m.n that missing tact gene!

Vlad's gaze never wavered. "No. Is there a reason you thought I might have?"