The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Skeletons in the Closet

front of my face, and I shook my head as I focused on Coop.
    “I’m done in the kitchen and I need a break. I was going to take Darcy around the corner for a cup of joe.”
    “Sounds good. I need to dust the lighting fixtures and scrub the bathroom, so take your time.”
    Coop narrowed his gaze at me. “Everything better be here when we get back.”
    “I’m not a thief, Coop!”
    “All the same, I’d appreciate it if Darcy didn’t catch you at anything underhanded. Don’t want to cast any doubt on my affection for her.”
    “Do you want me to place my hands on the Bible or is Scout’s Honor good enough?”
    Coop grunted twice and departed. I waited for the front door to close and I started to search in earnest. I figured the more practice I had with sleuthing the better I’d be at it.
    I looked behind paintings, between mattresses and box springs, and inside shoe boxes stacked in the closets. Other than mothballs and a collection of ancient Playboys hidden in with the Christmas decorations, there was nothing squirreled away. Deciding to abandon the search for my real job, I headed out to the Olds to get my cleaning supplies.
    The door wouldn’t open.
    “Damn it!” I shouted and tried the other door. The car was as tight as a freaking drum. Cooper had made sure I couldn’t steal his car. As the idea gripped me, I shook my head violently. Good Lord above, I was starting to think like the old stinker!
    “Can I be of assistance?”
    I whirled around. A heavy set man with a noticeable bald patch considered me with a smirk. Though only a few inches taller than me, he had me by about forty pounds. A flannel shirt worn jacket style and a faded pair of Levis would have made him look like a mountain man, except dress shoes peeked out from his hems.
    My brain ticked off possible reasons for why I was shouting at a car but came up blank. I looked like a lunatic; there was no getting around that. “No, I, um, my partner locked up the car, and I need something out of the trunk.”
    His smirk transformed into a sneer. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Uh….” It was like my mind was an Etch-A-Sketch someone had shaken until it cleared.
    He rolled his piggy black eyes at me, and I stepped back. No matter what I did, it was hard to forget there was a killer out there, orbiting my little reality. Mrs. Kline hadn’t seen him coming, maybe because the murder was unobtrusive and forgettable….
    That’s when it struck me. “I met you at the Kline’s soirée,” I declared in triumph.
    He didn’t appear mollified. “And at the Gould’s engagement party, and at Mrs. McFarlane’s garage sale, as well as Wal-Mart about half a dozen times. Do you even remember my name?”
    It was like someone had run an ice cube along my spine. No, I was terrible with names, but I didn’t want to let him know that. “I’m sorry; I’ve been stressed lately, what with my new job and my family….”
    “Not to mention a couple of homicides to investigate.”
    The ice cube became a frostbitten fist, clamping onto my back until it seized up. Piggy Eyes watched me closely as I did one of those animated slow motion swallows. How did he know that? Was this guy stalking me? Or was it worse than that?
    “Hey, Missy, you all set?” Coop shuffled across the street, and I put the car between myself and the man who had terrified me.
    “No, I need my cleaning supplies for the bathroom.” I directed the comment at Coop without taking my attention from Piggy Eyes.
    While Coop opened the trunk, Piggy Eyes gave an almost childlike giggle and went on his way.
    Coop handed me the carry-all with my bathroom supplies. “You okay, Missy? You’re awful white.”
    “I must be if you noticed.” I made the joke but the words fell flat. “Do me a favor, Coop, next time you decide to woo a client, do it after we finish the job.”
    “There’s no need to get huffy, Missy.”
    Piggy Eyes turned the corner, and I realized Coop was wrong. I had my pick of reasons to get huffy.

    * * * *
    Even after triple-checking all of the locks on the doors and windows, I still felt ill at ease. Marty, Neil, and the boys worked on some project in the garage, and they might as well have hung a No Girls Allowed sign. I wanted to stay up and talk to Neil, but the cleaning marathon had taken its toll, and I drifted off on the couch. I awoke to the sound of the birds’ pre-dawn symphony. Neil must have covered me when he came in because I was swaddled like a