Don't Kill For Me, page 1
Don't Kill For Me
A Death and Donuts Thriller
Martha Henley
Pace Bend Press
Copyright © 2018 by Martha Henley
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact info@pacebendpress.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Second edition 2023
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Chapter Fifty-two
Chapter Fifty-three
Chapter Fifty-four
Chapter Fifty-five
Chapter Fifty-six
Chapter Fifty-seven
Chapter Fifty-eight
Chapter Fifty-nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-one
Chapter Sixty-two
Chapter Sixty-three
Chapter Sixty-four
Chapter Sixty-five
Chapter Sixty-six
Chapter Sixty-seven
Chapter Sixty-eight
Chapter Sixty-nine
Chapter Seventy
More By Martha Henley
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About Martha Henley
Chapter One
Death never bothered me growing up. I’d lived in the first house on a street where the corner business was a funeral home. From my bedroom window, I spied over the falling down fence to watch the caretakers load caskets into their hearses. All the bodies that went in and never came out of the black cavernous vehicles, sparked my imagination. I’d wonder who the people had been before they died. Storytelling my own versions of strangers’ lives stuck with me well into adulthood.
“For the Hour Floral, how can I help you?” I answered the incoming call on the landline in my floral shop. “Yes, we do casket sprays. We can customize them to your budget. Let me tell you what flowers are in season, so I can give you an accurate quote.” As I explained our services, I acknowledged a customer entering the shop by waving him in. “Thank you. Hope to hear from you soon.”
“They’re not calling back,” I said out loud to myself. I knew the prices at my shop were slightly higher than competitors’. The difference was mostly because I was locally owned and not a part of a huge chain operation. The second reason had to do with my location. When I set out less than a year ago to follow my dream and own my own business, I hadn’t realized the traffic in the dying shopping mall was extremely low.
The bulk of the business came from word of mouth and online orders. I specialized in event arrangements. Weddings, retirement parties, holiday centerpieces, and my favorite, funeral sprays.
Off the phone, I turned my attention to the customer who’d entered. Women who shopped for flowers were on a mission. They were in the mood to buy or were excited about an event. They were brides getting married or young ladies going to their high school prom. They knew exactly what they wanted when they walked in the door.
There were two kinds of men who shopped for flowers. The first were those who wandered in, passing time. The second were looking for Trina, my provocatively dressed, overly flirtatious twenty year old part timer. What she lacked in retail skills, she gave back in marketing. She told everyone where she worked. The men followed and bought flowers to get her phone number.
“Shopping for a happy occasion?” I asked the man standing with his back to me, staring at an arrangement of lilies. “Or a sad one?”
“Could I ask you a question?” The man turned, holding out the vase of lilies. “Do these say will you go to dinner with me?” He raised his eyes to meet mine. They were sort of pathetic, staring back at me from behind his rectangular black rimmed glasses. He was in desperate need of a makeover. Especially if his goal was to ask a woman out on a dinner date.
“Not really.” I placed the arrangement back on the shelf and pointed him in the direction of the long stemmed roses. “Traditionally red ones are for the one you love. Yellows are for friends, pink means I’m thinking of you. I’d go with a single long stemmed pink rose. Should I wrap one up for you?”
Trina stepped out of the cold flower room, dancing to a tune playing through earbuds plugged into her phone.
“No, I’ve changed my mind.” The man panicked and took a step toward the door.
It’d been a slow day, so I shouted out to him quickly. “I can give you baby’s breath and nice ribbon. On the house. It’ll really impress her.”
“I don’t think it will.” He stopped in place, clenched his fists, and took a deep breath. “It was you I wanted to ask out. Will you go to dinner with me, Eileen?”
“Do I know you?” I studied his face; it seemed familiar. Maybe he worked in the mall. I felt guilty that I didn’t fully recognize him.
To be honest, I didn’t pay that much attention to the goings on of the people that walked by the shop on a day to day basis. The man standing in front of me with his pouting lips and graying hair, could be anyone. But he was someone who knew my name. “You have an advantage, Mister . . .”
“We haven’t officially met. Do you know the indoor inflatable park at the other end of the mall?” He sped up the hurry in his words as he spoke. “It’s mine. I own it. We’re both in the hospitality business. When mothers need balloons for their birthday parties, I send them down here to see you. All the time. Do they say Ray sent them?”
“I do get referrals from a Ray. That’s you? Thank you.” I offered my hand for him to shake. “I’m Eileen Somers.”
He took my hand and awkwardly held it, before deciding to give me a handshake instead of a kiss on the top. “Name’s Ray. Ray Perkins.”
“Nice to officially meet you.” We exchanged the kind of smile most people do when they’re thinking about getting to know someone new.
Ray was already interested in me, I wasn’t exactly available for dinner dates, except that I was. My current status was mistress to a married man. We weren’t exclusive and he had no plans of leaving his wife. I understood the situation I was in.
“So Ray, you’re asking me to dinner. I don’t see a ring. Newly divorced?”
“I’m not like that.” He held his hands up, accidentally grazing my forearm, which surprised him. His eyes widened with fear. We’d touched. “I’m not divorced. You’re not for revenge or rebound. I’m a widower. I’ve been told I should get out more. I heard around the mall that you were single.”
“From Trina I suppose.” I turned to send a dirty look to her. She was, as I suspected, watching us from behind the register counter. Retaliation for sending a nervous Ray my direction would be harsh. “She sure gets the word around. Can I think about it?”
“Alright. You know where to find me.” He handed me his business card, gave me a thumbs up and a wink. “It’s called Bounce In. And it’s at the other end of the mall. On this level. I’ll be there until close.”
“Thank you, I’ll be in touch.” I tootled a wave to him and slipped the card into the front pocket of my store apron.
Ray couldn’t have known it, but he wasn’t my type. He was too unsure of himself. It was going to be a no for the dinner date and for the oddest reason: Ray appeared to be a good man. I kept my distance from good men.
“Hi, Bob.” Ray patted a mall walker on the back as he left the shop. There was a skip in his step. Even in giving him the most noncommittal answer I could, in some way, I’d just made his day. His gleeful attitude made me feel terrible.
Maybe there was something more to Ray Perkins. I stepped to the front of the store to watch him walk away with the other g
At the escalator, the men broke their leisurely stroll. Ray turned to the right, in the direction of where I assumed his business was located. I couldn’t tell you if my guess was correct. I’d never ventured that direction in the mall. Bob, the other man, a walker who looked to be in his sixties, stepped onto the escalator. He turned and gave me look as if he sensed I was watching him. The twitch of his head in my direction gave me a chill. From that distance I doubted he could still see me. Coincidence or paranoia? I tossed off the chill and turned back to Trina in the shop. “You started this. Help me get out of it.”
Chapter Two
“Why not give Ray a chance?” Trina looked up from her phone, tapped it off, and tucked it into her back pocket. “He’s nice. It’s about time he got the nerve to come down here. I’ve been working on him since Christmas.”
“Four months?” Her matchmaker instincts astonished me. Ready to move on to other topics, I grabbed some stems from the cold room and placed them on the back table to trim the excess leaves for arrangements. “Trina stay out of my love life. The shop is too busy. We’re backed up with wedding orders, there’s Mother’s Day bouquets, prom, and graduation corsages to make. I don’t have time for the hassle of an over-obsessed admirer. That’s your specialty.”
“Who’s talking about all that?” She picked a pair of pruning shears up and helped with the task. “It’s just a date. A free meal.” Trina had no qualms about using men for personal gain. “Why not show him a good time? You might enjoy yourself, too.”
We had different stands on the issue of dating. I was twenty years older, raised by a single mother, and selective by choice. The men I knew in my formative years took what they wanted and women served their needs without questions. I was attracted to strong, controlling men. My first impression of Ray, he was the opposite of a dominating date. Not my type.
“I’ll think about it, but not too hard. What if he talks about his late wife all night? How well do you know him?”
“He’s dependable. Brings his lunch to work. He likes carrots.”
“I don’t think you’re helping his case.” The phone rang. Trina answered it. I continued cutting stems, but was more or less fiddling with them. I was no use while distracted. Thinking about why Ray had asked me out had me puzzled. Me of all people. Do I look like I’m desperate?
“Fine, don’t take my word for it,” Trina said, coming back to the table. “Ask Bob when he walks by. He’ll tell you that Ray is the perfect match for you.”
“Bob?” It dawned on me that she was talking about the man on the escalator. “You know him, too? Of course you do. What is his deal? Are you flirting with him so he’ll ask me out, too?”
“He wouldn’t do that. Bob’s a confirmed bachelor. Never been married. A shame. He’s sweet. He’s the kind of man who would send a woman a love note.” She produced a small envelope from her pocket.
“You got another one? Why didn’t you say so?” I slammed my palm down on the work table and demanded, “Read it.”
Trina had been receiving love letters from a secret admirer lately. They were being left sporadically under the back door of the shop. After the first one had come, we’d asked mall security to check the video feed. Trina wanted to identify the sender, but she didn’t get her wish.
The mall security team was sparse. It was simply three ordinary men and one woman who looked to be their drill sergeant. When contacted, they said the cameras were off in the back service hallways.
Adrienne, for example, was concerned with the possibility of a woman being attacked on her watch. I assured her she wasn’t in danger, a report wasn’t filed, and they didn’t investigate into the matter any further. Trina didn’t care enough to push the issue either. They were just harmless notes, gushing about her beauty and rambling about odd topics. She felt if her admirer wanted to be known, he’d admit his love face to face.
“This one’s really bad. He included an old newspaper clipping.” She handed the yellowing paper over to me. It was a recipe for caramelized pears. While I looked it over, she read the handwritten note. It was basically the author reminiscing about eating in a diner from his childhood. “The sweetness of your smile warms my heart and soul,” she said, pursing her lips. “You remind me of my favorite pie. I’ve included the recipe.”
“Mom used to make caramelized pears.” The smell of the aged paper took me back to my own childhood. “I remember several pear trees in the park near my house,” I told Trina. “Mom used to make me climb them and pick the best pears. Then we would sell the excess fruit at the flea market.
“My treat for helping out was buying a mystery grab bag. They were paper bags, stapled shut. Inside was a jumble of all sorts of trinkets. I got my favorite jack ball in one of those bags. And a mirror with a koala bear painted in the corner. I still have that mirror. Somewhere.”
“Right. Well. This note is boring.” Trina pushed the note and envelope my direction. “Can I leave at four today? I have a date with Isaac from the athletic shoe store. We’re going to drive to the new smoke shop in the old church downtown. They say it’s haunted.”
“Why do you need off early? Isaac working until six.”
“I want to buy new earbuds.” She dangled the cord of the ones that had been locked around her neck. “Mine suck.”
#
Chapter Three
Later, the next day, I still hadn’t decided what to do about Ray. It bothered me that Trina had been talking about me behind my back for months. How could I not have noticed Ray before? His forwardness helped change my mind about how closed off I was to those around me.
It was a slow day, giving me plenty of time to think. Too much time. To keep busy, I refilled the tall buckets of cheap stems, just inside the front shop doors. Thankfully, a familiar face, Bob, the mall walker, strolled by on the opposite side of the aisle. He knew Ray, maybe talking to him would sway me one way or the other about the date. I hastily called him over.
“Excuse me.” I waved at him with a neon orange carnation. He took one earphone out of his ear and looked my direction. “It’s Bob. Right?”
“It is,” he said, crossing over. “I don’t need any flowers. Not unnaturally dyed ones.” He took the other earphone out, giving me his full attention. “Business desperate enough you’re flagging down random people?”
“No.” I chunked the carnation into the proper bucket. “This is a little embarrassing, but you know Ray. He owns the inflatable store.”
“Yes, I know him,” Bob took his phone out, inputted his security code, then tapped an app on the screen, and the music playing through his earphones quieted. “See him every day. He’s a hard worker. Good man.” He nodded his head, waiting for me to get to the point.
The point was, I had none. I didn’t know how to move the conversation along. I’d never had to do a background check on a potential date before. If I was feeling lonely, I texted my lover, Anthony. If he was unavailable, I went to a bar, smiled, and that was enough.
“He asked me out. On a date. I saw you two talking. You look honest. Can you give me an opinion of Ray?”
“You could do worse. I hear the Japanese restaurant upstairs is good.” Bob put his earphones back in his ears. “Let me know how your date turns out.” His side of the exchange was over. He turned his music back on and started to leave.
“So you think I should say yes to the date?” The mall walker gave me a thumbs up and walked away. It wasn’t like me to take one person’s word on something. I needed a second opinion about good ole Ray. Trina didn’t count. There was only one other person I knew in the mall. Couldn’t say I knew her by name, but I talked to her every morning.
“I’m going for an iced coffee,” I called into the store, then walked the short distance to the food court.
The lady at the coffee shop is nice. She’s older than Trina. I feel like I can trust her judgement, I convinced myself along the way. She has to have noticed Ray before. Everyone in the mall gets coffee. She’ll tell me the truth.
