Death on a Deadline

around here. And I use your name for advertising. That brings in a lot of business.” He cleared his throat again and avoided my eyes. “Plus, I know you’ll be real good to Lisa, and I want you to know in advance how much I appreciate that.”
    Oh, brother. She must be even worse than I remembered if he was willing to cut into his profits to bribe me to be nice to her. But what could I say? I needed a new car.

    *****

    I’d just climbed into Alex’s truck when my cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and shot Alex an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I’d better get this. I don’t know who it is, but it’s a local number. Hello?”
    “Jenna?” An unfamiliar female voice came over the line.
    “Yes?”
    “This is Debbie. Over at the Diner?”
    “Oh, hi, Debbie.” I immediately felt guilty that I was with Alex. When she’d asked me about him at the diner, I hadn’t been dating him. “What’s up?”
    “Remember how you asked me to call if I heard anything or remembered anything about Hank?” Her voice was low.
    “Yes?”
    “I know everybody’s saying Brendan is the murderer, but are you still interested in information?” she whispered.
    “Definitely. Tell me.” I strained to listen.
    “Today at lunch, I was carrying food to the Stantons’ table. The mayor and his wife had their heads together and before they knew I was there, I heard her say, ‘Thought it would be over after Hank was out of the picture.’ Then she said something so low I couldn’t hear, but she finished with, ‘Jenna Stafford nosing around.’ ”
    I heard muffled voices in the background, then Debbie hollered, “Be right there!” And in a quieter tone to me, “I’ve got to go.”
    “Thanks,” I said to a dead line.
    As Alex and I drove into town, I told him word for word what Debbie had said.
    “You think they did it?”
    “A Bonnie and Clyde type deal?” I mused. “I don’t know. They strike me more like Barbie and Ken.”
    He snorted. “Barbie and Ken? The dolls?”
    “Yep.” I thought of Amelia yesterday, sitting on the poolside, her makeup perfect. “Sort of plastic. But not necessarily all bad.”
    “Oh, something I’ve been meaning to tell you. . .”
    “Yeah?” His voice sounded so serious that I dreaded hearing his words.
    He waited until we rolled to a stop at the red light, then turned to look at me. “I didn’t say this the other day. But I’m sorry about Brendan. Since you dated him, I mean.”
    “Thanks. We weren’t very close, but I appreciate it.” I traced the J on my purse with my finger. “But I’m afraid he was killed because he was about to tell me who murdered Hank. I hate feeling like I’m somehow responsible.”
    He reached across the seat and took my hand in his. “Is that why you quit teaching?”
    My gaze slid to his face. “You heard about that, huh?”
    “Yeah, but I’d rather hear it from you.” He caressed my skin with his thumb. “If you want to tell me about it.” The light changed and he let go of my hand. I felt the loss.
    “One of my students had an undiagnosed heart valve problem. We were doing some simple calisthenics. Nothing strenuous. But his heart stopped.” I pushed my hair back from my face and looked up at the truck ceiling, trying not to see fifteen-year-old Colton lying lifeless on the gym floor. “I did CPR until the paramedics arrived.” Memories of never-ending compressions and breaths flooded over me. “He didn’t make it.”
    Alex pulled into the first car lot and parked. “Jenna, I’m sorry that happened. But you weren’t responsible.”
    “I know. At first. . .maybe I thought that. I was mixed up, mad at God, madder at myself. But I found a good Christian counselor and that helped a lot. Logically, I know his death wasn’t my fault.”
    He got out of the truck and ran around to get my door. When I was on my feet, he hugged me. “I’m proud of you for getting past that. I can’t believe how strong you are.”
    I laughed. “Just wait until you get to know me better.”
    “I can’t wait.” He dropped a quick kiss on my mouth. “But for now, let’s get you some wheels.”
    Unfortunately, that was harder than it sounded. After perusing several different car lots, we were both exhausted by the time we got to Honest Larry’s Car Sales. “You sure you want to stop here?” Alex asked as we pulled in.
    “Because of the name?” I shrugged. “Dad says he is an honest car dealer.” I gave him a rueful grin. “Besides