The Body in the Beaver Pond by Cathy Perkins

Author:Cathy Perkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781942003120
Publisher: Red Mountain Publishing

Nineteen

I jumped into my car, relieved to escape CoCo’s scrutiny. Kissing Richard? So not going down that path.

I’d managed to distract CoCo—at least I hoped I’d distracted her—with elaborate descriptions of the party food and the women’s clothing. I might have been a little snarky with some of those descriptions, but at least she was laughing when I left the café.

Better to overwhelm her with superficial details than depress her with her husband’s too-young-to-be-a-midlife crisis. Was Daniel insane? Where did guys come up with notions about reclaiming their youth through stupid stunts like rock climbing? Much less stupid stunts that dragged their wives along. I tried to imagine CoCo in spandex, carrying a coil of rope over her shoulder, and just couldn’t see it.

Brian might’ve had his crisis with Amanda. He dented my ego and my heart, and made me question my confidence and instincts, but at least he hadn’t broken any of my bones along the way. Then again, pointing out that Daniel wanted to do stuff with her, instead of pulling crap behind her back, had reassured CoCo.

At least I hoped it had.

Underneath all our chatter, my conscience had been doing a tango with my wallet. A long conversation with Richie Rich was in order. One about a crucial, overlooked element in our ridiculous arrangement. Sex.

And it would not be charged to my four-hour allotment.

The conversation. I supplied my own eye roll. Not the sex.

I groaned and stuck the key in the ignition. The discussion about sex would not be logged on my account. I’d better get the phrasing straight before I called Richie. I could imagine what he’d do with the opportunities I’d just mentally lobbed over the net.

I started the car and pulled away from the curb.

Obviously, there would be no sex in this ridiculous arrangement, but we damn well better figure out how we were going to handle other people’s expectations of us as a couple.

How did I get myself into this ridiculous position in the first place?

Oh yeah. Divorce. Job loss. No freaking money and insane charges from the local cops.

That about covered it.

So. How much physical contact in public?

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. I was tired of playing monkey in the middle. With Brian. With the cops. With Richard. And now with CoCo as well, thanks to Richard.

The only way I could get clear of my arrangement with Richard, convince the cops to take down the crime scene tape, put the Christmas Tree farm back on the market, and finally—finally—get back to Seattle, was to figure out who killed Mark Grant. At a minimum, I needed to identify a suspect other than the one the cops seemed keyed on—that would be me.

I could do this.

I’d been a great event planner. I knew how to break down a complicated scenario and look like a competent, caring person at the same time.

Speaking of caring, I wouldn’t forget my humanity while I scrambled to clear my name. I slowed and waved a pedestrian across Main Street in front of the post office.

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