Nearly Dead in Iowa Read online

  Their mouths moved in rapid-fire speed and their body language blasted "angry scorned women." I did the only thing I could under the circumstances and dropped the stack of business cards I was holding.

  It wouldn't be as obvious if I scooped and snooped simultaneously. I hiked up my dress and got down on my knees. Everyone gave me a wide berth as I crawled along the floor rescuing wayward cards. Finally getting close enough to eavesdrop.

  "Stan was despicable, but I always had a soft spot for Tony, even though he couldn't be trusted," Princess Leia grumbled to the blonde dressed as the Statue of Liberty wearing full body gold paint.

  "Everyone thinks he killed Stan and then disappeared."

  "I heard he's the prime suspect too. But if you ask me, Stan deserved to die. In fact, they both deserved to die for all the chaos they created. They had to know sooner or later their evil ways would catch up with them."

  "You're just jealous that you didn't have a fling with him."

  "That's only because he preferred the married types. Those two were gluttons for punishment." To my surprise, the woman chuckled. "If he's hiding out, where do you think he'd go?"

  "You mean if he hasn't left the country?" It was the other woman's chance to chuckle. "I've heard he has a secret hideout somewhere in the woods. That's probably where he'd be."

  If my ears could perk up like a dog's, they would have at that admission—another reference to this so-called cabin of my father's. But from my vantage point, I couldn't tell which woman had made the revelation.

  It was at that inopportune moment that a Good Samaritan crouched down next to me and offered assistance. When I glanced in his direction, it was Zorro. The aroma of high priced men's cologne washed over me.

  Oh no.

  He started blathering about helping me, and all I wanted to do was shoo him away so I could get more info. I scooped up the cards as quickly as I could so he'd move on, but he was having none of that.

  It didn't take much of a leap to know he was hitting on me—from the way he ogled my legs to the way his gaze roamed over the tight fit of the dress. Any moment now I expected him to say he had x-ray vision. He was smarmy with a capital S like he should have it emblazoned on his undershirt like Superman.

  Had to be Dr. Hunter behind that mask even if the voice didn't quite match up with what I remembered.

  He held out his hand to help me up, but I brushed it off. "I'm good."

  I spotted Mason making the rounds as well as Jefferson and began to walk towards them. Before I got too far, Zorro scooted beside me and grasped my arm.

  I gave him what I hoped was the evil eye. I followed that up with my best scowl. "Let go of my arm or you have no idea what kind of scene I'll make."

  "I suggest you stop being so nosy or you might get hurt."

  I emitted my best Angelina Jolie kick-butt grin. "Never going to happen." With that, I flounced away with as much dignity as I could muster given the confines of my too-tight-for-my-butt sheath dress.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  After I related the incident in the garden to Jefferson and Mason with their impressive oohs and aahs of pleasure, we decided to call it a night.

  "We'll give you a call if we hear anything." They air-kissed me as we stood outside the car. "Do you want us to follow you for a bit?"

  "I'll be fine." I was a big enough person to admit I was a little creeped out by the whole evening, the veiled threats and innuendoes. "I've got my pepper spray right here." Giving a sense of bravado I didn't wholeheartedly feel, I waved the cylinder before them.

  "Keep in touch." Jefferson had his arm on the doorframe of the car. "But I'll see you next week at the show either way."

  Relieved when my car cooperated, I hiked up my dress to allow for driving, waved good-bye to my newfound friends, and headed home.

  The country roads were dark, but I had expected as much. Streetlights were apparently unnecessary in Ruralville, Iowa.

  I turned up the stereo system in my car and zoned out as the now familiar roads beckoned me home. As I'd become accustomed to the light traffic, I was surprised to spot a car behind me at this time of night. I kept myself distracted by thinking through my suspect list and theories on why or where my father had disappeared to. On one hand I wanted to find him, and on the other, the idea scared me to death.

  I leaned against the headrest and let my mind settle for a few minutes. Except when I glanced in the mirror, the headlights were still there.

  My all-too familiar Spidey sense escalated as the car got closer. I kept a vigilant eye on the rearview mirror as I increased my speed and continued toward Inez. When the car made the turnoff for the Tollway, I relaxed but still kept a vigilant eye on the mirror.

  I needed to shake this paranoia I'd developed over the last week or so. But I guess finding a body, a random threatening note, and all manner of intimidation thrown my way might do that to a gal. Instead I grooved with the music and sang along with Aretha and her tune about R-E-S-P-E-C-T—which seemed fitting considering the events of the night.

  Only about fifteen more minutes before I got home. Sleep started to creep into my body, relaxing me even more until I looked into the rearview mirror and spotted another car behind me. I hated rural life. There was something about the presence of cars stacked bumper to bumper that made me feel ridiculously secure.

  As the car inched closer and closer, my heartbeat sped up with each mile. I pressed on the gas, the speedometer now reading seventy. Fear reigned supreme as I thought through possible outcomes and strategies. The outcomes were all dire, and the strategy part was in short supply.

  Hoping I'd come up with a brilliant plan, I continued on even as the car behind me turned on its high beams. I didn't want Mr. Stranger Danger to follow me to Viola's. That would be my worst nightmare and would put her in danger as well.

  But where could I go in a town that coined the phrase rolling-up-the-sidewalk-after-dark? Not the local bar. That wouldn't help. I was persona non grata there after my drinking spectacle with Gabe two weeks ago. No doubt there was a picture of me hanging along the walls enforcing a one drink limit.

  Okay, over the top. But right now everything felt over the top. Especially as the car seemed to be getting closer and closer in my rearview mirror, and I'd run out of options.

  As if a mirage, the sheriff's office appeared up ahead. The light was on, and there was a car in the parking lot. Surely if there were someone following me wanting to do me harm, they'd be dissuaded if I pulled into the police station. Besides, whoever was inside there had guns—substantially more potent and intimidating than my measly pepper spray.

  No argument there.

  I pulled into the lot, threw my car into park, and made a beeline for the station all while hoping bullets didn't start to fly. When I rushed inside, I was out of breath and ran into Nate—the one person I didn't want to see. How could one gal get so lucky?

  My body was shaking from head to toe as words stalled in my throat. I kept telling myself to breathe, but my body was not in a cooperative mood.

  "Have you been drinking?" Nate drawled as I glanced out the window and hoped someone hadn't followed me in, guns blazing

  "No…I mean yes…a sip," I struggled to gain my composure. "Some spilled on my arm." I glanced back out the window and saw a car slipping into the spot beside me. I clutched the windowsill, confident I was going to faint any second. "There was a car…following me…and it just turned into…" I couldn't finish my thought, instead pointing out the window.

  Nate peeked outside, and to my shock instead of drawing his gun, laughed. "That's Landry. He's due to relieve me in ten."

  I tried to make sense of what had just happened. The car following me had been a large SUV type vehicle. The one in the parking lot was much smaller. I leaned into the window and spotted taillights in the distance. "Does he live in the direction of Iowa City?"

  Nate shook his head. "Nope. He comes from the opposite direction."

  "They must have drove past wh
en I pulled in." He had that skeptical look on his face, but I ignored it. "I know what I saw. I'm the same person who has had a run of bad luck as far as dead bodies, threats, and shoves into the dirt go, so don't question my paranoia." My pulse rate had to be off-the charts as I struggled to get myself under control. "Somebody threatened me tonight and then someone was following me. Coincidence? I don't think so."

  "Who threatened you?"

  "I'm not sure as everyone was in costume. I'm guessing Dr. Hunter or maybe M.C.?

  "So the choices are a respectable surgeon or the man you put in the hospital with a heart attack?"

  "Have you not been listening? Whoever they were, they told me to stop asking questions. It seems like a common theme these days."

  "Did he threaten you with bodily harm?"

  He kind of had me on a technicality there. "No, but it was the way he said it." I blew out a breath. This was getting me nowhere. "Dr. Hunter's wife was sleeping with my father. He also was reprimanded by the hospital for playing fast and loose with opioids. Don't you think that points to reasonable doubt as to my father's guilt?"

  "I hate to break it to you, but your father was having affairs with lots of women—most of them married. Doesn't mean they had anything to do with Stan's murder. Writing too many prescriptions for pain killers doesn't necessarily make him a suspect." I really hated that he had made a perfect counterpoint to my point.

  "That doesn't erase the fact that somebody followed me here. Maybe you should take my word for that instead of classifying my allegations as crazy."

  He shook his head. "Maybe I need to run a little breathalyzer test to make sure you're okay." Since he had a smile on his face, I assumed he was joking, but nothing about this felt funny to me.

  I glared back to him. "I'm glad you find the fact that I was being followed amusing." I turned with as much dignity as I could muster and flounced back out the door.

  Nate got in his car and followed me home. I was a big enough person to admit I was relieved with his presence.

  But never in a million years would I admit it to him.

  * * *

  Viola was sound asleep when I'd come home last night so I tiptoed upstairs. By some miracle, I had managed to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I was still lying in bed contemplating what everything meant when at about ten o'clock there was a knock on the door.

  "May I come in, Izzy?" Viola's voice called from the other side.

  "Sure." I stretched in bed and sat up.

  "I'm anxious to hear how the party went last night. Were there a lot of folks interested in your paintings?" She sat in the chair by the fireplace while I slipped into my robe and sat across from her.

  "It was more of a meet and greet. Well sort of." I contemplated how much to tell her and when. "I did meet a fellow artist and his husband. And they were fun to hang with."

  "And? I can tell there's something you're not saying?"

  "Most people were in these elaborate costumes. Some were reminiscent of a Mardi Gras explosion. Others were more true to the Gilded Lily thing. But anyway, this guy kind of threatened me, and I think somebody followed me back to Inez so I stopped into the police station and Nate was there and I don't think he believed me, and it was all a big mess." Despite my reluctance to spill, the information seemed to have no trouble spurting from my lips.

  "I'm sorry we didn't come with you. There's safety in numbers is what I always say. But you're okay, and that's the important part." She hesitated before she spoke again. "I've learned two things—there's no record of Anthony or Tony Gallione owning any other home besides the one here in Inez. While that's kind of a downer, I also learned that Phil Reed may not have been held in jail all night."

  Bummed out by the cabin issue, the news about Phil made me hopeful. "Why do you think that?"

  "I have a friend who said that frequently the jail gets overcrowded and folks charged with nonviolent crimes are released early. It just so happened that the night Phil was arrested, there was a particularly unruly frat party at the university, so they might have had to let him out early."

  "How could I find out for sure?"

  "You could ask Nate, but all arrests are open for public inspection, so you might just go there and find out yourself—as long as you bring us along, of course."

  Somehow I resisted rolling my eyes. She meant well, but luckily my phone started to ring, interrupting my train of thought. I glanced at the readout but it said blocked call. I held up my finger towards Viola and pressed the speaker button.

  "Hello."

  "Isabella Lewis?" the caller asked.

  I straightened in my seat. "Yes, this is she." I winced as Viola's eyes went wide as she listened.

  "I have some information you might be interested in about Tony Gallione and his current whereabouts. I heard you might pay me for that information seeing as I haven't shared it with anyone else, especially Sheriff Crowder."

  That fact that he didn't like Nate both rubbed me the wrong way and made me feel like a kindred spirit to the caller in some weird, twisted way. Obviously he had crossed paths with the good sheriff as well and had his own misgivings about sharing information with law enforcement.

  "Why don't you tell me what you know?" I winced. The whole conversation sounded cliché, but I was desperate for information and Viola was practically salivating while listening.

  The caller laughed. I'm big enough to admit it kind of creeped me out, even as I tried to think if the voice sounded familiar. "Why would I do that and trust you to reward me?"

  He had a point. Guess I'd better get to the cash station. I hoped my paintings sold to some rich guy where price was no object. Okay, that was fantasyland, but a gal could hope.

  "And why would I meet you somewhere if I wasn't sure you have what you say you do? You need to give me something to make me believe you." Totally loving this tough chick part of me. I hadn't planned on sharing this new wrinkle, but with Viola in the room it was a fait accompli.

  Still, did I really want to do this? It seemed like a huge risk. Then again, I'd been handing out my cards near and far hoping for some kind of lead. But now that it had happened it sounded like a really bad idea. Before I could back out of following through with this debacle, he responded.

  "I know where your father's cabin is. Five hundred dollars and I'll give you the information. There's a fall fair starting today in Stewart. I'll be wearing a black baseball cap. But don't worry about that because I know what you look like." Without another word, he clicked off the phone.

  I catapulted into hyperventilation mode but managed to talk myself down from the ledge pretty quickly with some deep breaths. Having an audience, I couldn't dissolve into a sniffling idiot—at least more than I already had.

  "What do you think?"

  She clapped her hands together. "We are in serious need of a little excitement, and that sounds like it will fill the bill nicely."

  I shook my head as guilt played alongside my conscience. "I can't. This person might be dangerous."

  "All the more reason for us to join you. You'll need an extra pair of eyes, and we'll be there to watch your back." She grasped my hand as if I'd just won a lottery or something. "I wish he would have said his name. The Qs and I pretty much know everyone within a hundred-mile radius."

  I wasn't sure, but suspected run-of-the-mill informants didn't share that kind of intel. "I'll be fine. It's not wise for all of you to join me. There'll be a crowd so what can—" before I finished my thought, she'd already vacated my room faster than anyone her age should move and was texting her friends about the adventure planned for today.

  I was so screwed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Although I expected as much, the county fair was cheesy on overload. Carnival barkers, striped tents, strong men, bearded ladies—you name it—were all part of this country bumpkin celebration. And, most disturbing of all, half the men there were wearing black baseball caps—something about Hawkeyes—whatever that referred to.
If I wasn't so preoccupied looking for the man with the information, I might actually ask.

  The smell of hot dogs intermixed with cotton candy caused my traitorous stomach to growl. I'd done enough bad eating to last a lifetime of exercise. For the time being, I was ignoring the siren's call.

  "I need to get me one of those elephant ear things," Alice said. "I've been hankering for one since the summer fair at Iowa City. Clyde wouldn't share his with me, and they were all out." She mumbled something under her breath.

  "We need to split up anyway," Viola said. "You, Dolly, and Ramona cover the east side, and Izzy and I will cover this west. You can grab an elephant ear on the way. Text if you find somebody wearing a black hat that looks suspicious."

  "I'll ask them straight up if they are looking for Izzy. Don't you think that'll work?" Ramona asked.

  A tad obvious, but I had nothing to dispute her idea, especially given the fact that the whole place had apparently been overrun by black-hat wearing men, women, and children. He knew what I looked like, so had me at a disadvantage.

  "Don't worry, Izzy. We're all over this," Dolly said as she saluted me, and the threesome walked away.

  That's exactly what I was worried about. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, but I still felt a little squeeze in the chest area that had nothing to do with the sports bra I was wearing.

  "You nervous?" Viola grasped my arm as if to support my progress.

  "A little." Or maybe a whole bunch, but I didn't want to voice my inner thoughts.

  "I told Gabe it would be a good idea if he had you over for dinner soon."

  I appreciated her desire to distract me, and I sincerely hoped that's what this was. "I'm kind of busy."

  She burst out laughing. "You live in my house, remember? I'm well aware of how busy you're not."

  "But with the art show coming up, there's so much I need to get done." The girly part that I'd long since abandoned wondered what a date with Gabe might look like, but the rational part didn't want to be swayed by what he might be offering. Besides, I still wasn't sure I trusted him a hundred percent even though I enjoyed his company—at least when he wasn't being grumpy and obnoxious.