I shrugged. “I crossed my fingers.”
Jo opened both eyes. She looked tired, almost as if I’d finally broken her lying spirit. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
“I told you I didn’t kill Mona. I wasn’t blackmailing her, either. Tricia and Cliff were having an affair.” She continued to stick to the same story.
“That just doesn’t make sense,” Darby insisted, stroking Fluffy’s head, which was now resting adoringly on Darby’s lap. The sweet girl from Nebraska refused to believe a good friend would commit the ultimate betrayal. Man, I loved her spunk.
“Look, Jo. I know you’re hiding something. What is it? Where were you the night Mona died?” I asked.
“I was here. Alone.”
“No one’s going to believe you. Spill it. What are you hiding?” I said.
She rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Mona fired me,” she finally admitted.
“I know.” Her head shot up, shock clearly stamped on her face. “Tricia told me. Do you want to fill me in on the bathroom argument yet?”
“Why, it sounds like Tricia’s already talked enough for the both of us.”
“She’s going to file a police report. She claims you accosted her in the parking lot last night and are blackmailing her.”
Jo swore. Darby covered Fluffy’s ears.
“She is such a blabbermouth,” Jo complained.
“So it’s true?” Darby asked, wide-eyed.
Jo sat forward, nostrils flaring. “No, it’s not true. I’m not the one who was blackmailing Mona,” she insisted.
No, that was Cliff. The cad boasted about it at breakfast. “But you admit to blackmailing Tricia?”
She looked at Fluffy. “I told you. She was having an affair with Cliff.”
I shook my head. “Not according to Cliff. I believe him.”
“You’ve talked to Cliff?” Jo looked shaken. She drummed her finger on the arms of the chair.
I shifted my weight, not exactly comfortable with the wild look developing in Jo’s eyes. “A little over an hour ago. He was full of info.”
Jo sprang from the chair. Darby gasped and laid a protective hand on Fluffy.
“I’ll be right back,” Jo said with a forced smile. “I just remembered I didn’t set the phones to forward to voicemail.” She raced out of the office like a bat from you know where.
I don’t know who she thought she was fooling, but it didn’t take a medium or a psychic to know she was ducking out. I could hear the back door creaking as she tried to quietly and slowly make her escape.
“She’s running.” I shouted.
Fluffy barked and charged for the door.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I grabbed Darby, she grabbed Fluffy, and we rushed out the front door. We hid behind a huge black Caddy SUV parked on the street and waited for our escapee. Sure enough, Jo charged out of the backyard without a backwards glance in our direction, wearing dark sunglasses and a leather vest over her t-shirt.
Game on, sister.
The three of us followed up the busy street, weaving around people when needed, sometimes hiding behind them, not wanting to give away our presence. It may not be prime tourist season, but people flocked to Laguna year round.
Jo bobbed around a young couple walking their Great Dane. She glanced over her shoulder. I tried to hide behind the tree, but it was too late, she’d spotted us. Crapola.
Jo picked up speed and was now almost running. I wish I knew where she was running to.
“She did it. She killed Mona.” Darby sounded out of breath. From the realization we knew who killed her mother or from the spontaneous cardio exercise, I couldn’t tell. I was concentrating on not letting Jo out my sight as we got closer to PCH.
Once Jo reached the corner she cut left. I couldn’t see her. Suddenly, there was an ear-piercing scream mixed with the blare of a bus horn.
“No, no, no.” I yelled.
I hauled it around the corner trying to catch up to Jo, leaving Darby and Fluffy behind.
A small crowd had gathered in front of the bus, people pulling out their cell phones.
The bus doors swung open, and a short frantic man scurried into the crowd.
“She ran into the street,” his panicked voice rang in the air. “I couldn’t stop. You saw it, right? Someone tell me you saw her run out in front of me.” He yelled at the crowd gathered around the bus. He was the bus driver, Denny, according to his plastic name badge.
He charged up to a young kid standing on his skateboard and grabbed a handful of his shirt. “You saw it happen. She ran out in front of me.”
The kid pushed him away. “Dude, you ran over the pet psychic.”
Denny suddenly collapsed in a heap onto the sidewalk.
Ambulance and police sirens screeched toward us. Unfortunately, I think Denny would be the only one benefiting from the ambulance headed our way.
“Why would she dart in front of a bus?” someone in the crowd asked.
“I think someone pushed her,” a shaky female voice commented behind me.
“Check out that tattoo. Do you think she got it locally?” someone else said, clearly impressed with Lassie (may she rest in peace).
The kid on his skateboard prodded Denny with his foot. “Is he dead, too?”
My stomach was in knots. I looked over at Darby. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, but I could tell she wasn’t. She looked like she was about to puke.
My stomach clenched. How in the world was I going to explain this to Grey? The first police car roared up to the crowd and parked in a way to block traffic. What a mess.
Seeing the cop car added a whole new level of anxiety. I chewed my lip. “Lord, I sure hope Malone doesn’t show up. Even I can’t talk my way out of this one.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Darby had retreated back to her place. She’d taken Fluffy with her. For as many times as she said she was fine, I could tell she was shaken up. Of course, Malone hadn’t helped.
He’d been pretty worked up when he found us there. But that was nothing compared to when it came out I’d been poking my nose where it didn’t belong. His words, not mine.
Apparently he’d already cleared Jo as a suspect, and somehow it was now my fault she’d taken a face plant into a bus. When I told him about Cliff, he yelled at me in his I’m-going-to-throw-you-in-jail voice to stay out of it.
So I went home to Missy and to wait for Grey.
Mitch was running on the beach. (He’d finally talked to our mama. Enough said.) Nikki was packing.
“You don’t have to leave.” I sat crossed-legged on the bed and unpacked as she packed.
Nikki sighed. “Mel, you’ve been very gracious, but you have a lot going on here.”
I got on my knees and dumped her suitcase contents all over the bed. I smiled, satisfied with my work. “You’ll realize soon enough, if I have something to say, I’m just out there with it. If I wanted my place back or felt you two where cramping my style, I’d have put you up in the Montage.”
Nikki tucked her hair behind her ears and stared wide-eyed at the pile of clothes. “You’re exactly like your brother described.”
“Feisty?” I jumped up and hugged her. “Come on, you guys don’t have to leave tonight.” I stepped back and grabbed her hands. “You haven’t even met Grey. Stay. We’ll take you guys to dinner at Mozambique. You’ll love it. They have the best sweet potato fries.”
She studied me, looking for something. I had no idea what. “You’ve just witnessed someone getting hit by a bus. On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out are you?”
I squeezed her hands, then let go. I plopped on the bed with a bounce. “A three. We just saw the aftermath. The actual face plant into the corner of the bus was missed.”
Nikki blinked rapidly, then burst out laughing. “I thought Mitch was exaggerating about his family.”
“Sugar, there’s no stretching of the truth needed where the Langstons are concerned,” I said in the thick Texas accent I’d worked to hard to lose.