"I'll bet," I said as I trotted after him into the weight room. I sucked in a breath, flabbergasted at my luck. I had spotted Damon Papas coming out of the locker room and heading for the door, so I dug in my heels and yanked my wrist free from Sean's light grip. "Ow, my side."

Sean stopped, all teasing aside and a concerned look crossing his perfect features. "What's wrong?"

"Cramps."

His eyes grew heavy-lidded, and he stood with his hands on his hips. "You're the one who made this appointment. You wouldn't be wimping out on me, now would ya?"

"Okay, so you caught me. I hate working out, but I really do want to get into better shape. Just not at this moment. I actually do have a pain that won't go away unless I tend to it." I looked quickly toward Damon. I hadn't lied. "Rain check?"

"Yeah, sure, but I'm holding you to that. How about tomorrow?" Sean tapped the tip of my nose with his fingertip.

"It's a date." I kept my eyes locked on Damon, not wanting to miss his exit.

"That's what I'm counting on."

"I didn't mean-"

"Too late. You threw it out there, and I'm holding you to it for blowing off working out today."

"Fine, whatever." I waved my hand absently. "But I really do have to go now."

Sean's eyes followed mine. "Hmph, haven't seen him around here in a while. You know that guy?"

"No, but I'd like to talk to him." I glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping and then said in a quiet voice, "I'm hoping he can help shed some light on this case. Clear my name. His wife said he comes here every evening. I was surprised to see him here this early."

"Good luck, la.s.s." Sean shot a disgusted look in Damon's direction. "That might be what he's telling his wife, but I can a.s.sure you he hasn't worked out in weeks."

I knew Damon had been having an affair with Amanda Robbins and figured that was probably where he'd been going all these weeks. But now that she was dead, where on earth was he going this time?

Only one way to find out.

I was kind of excited at the thought of tailing someone for the first time. I glanced down at my clothes and bit my lip. I hadn't really thought that far ahead when I'd chosen my outfit.

"Gotta go." I grabbed Sean's hand and drew his attention back to me. "We'll talk in the morning. Tell Jo I'll call her. We'll have a girls' day."

"Will do." He squeezed my hand and then let go. "Take care, now. And don't forget to call me so we can figure out where we want to go tomorrow. Don't worry, love. I'll make it worth your while," he said in his body melting Irish brogue.

Wow, he was good. I bit back a grin but giggled as I backed away toward the door, holding my side for good measure. Sean chuckled and moved on to his next victim.

After exiting the gym, I ducked behind a bush and watched Damon stand by his truck. A few moments later, he looked around as a car pulled up. Once he was sure no one was in the parking lot of the gym, he jumped into a car I didn't recognize and slouched down as a person who wore a dark hood behind the wheel drove off. I quickly scurried over to my bug and turned the key, praying she'd start. Seconds later she sputtered to life as the other car's rear end disappeared out of sight.

Shifting into gear, I followed at a safe distance. Where on earth was he going and whom was he with? They drove the car to the edge of town and pulled into the driveway of a house down a short dead-end road. They drove straight into the garage and closed the door behind them. I parked down the street, got out, and jogged to the back of the house. I peeked in the downstairs window and stifled a gasp.

A woman. I recognized her from my first day in town when I bought supplies for my sanctuary's makeover. She'd introduced herself and had seemed so sweet. So proper. She was the kindergarten teacher at Divinity Elementary. Unbelievable. First the librarian and now the schoolteacher. Damon was married to a tyrant but obviously had a "good girl" fetish. Callista had said her husband claimed to have been at the gym during the time of the murder. If I were a gambling woman, I'd bet money he'd already moved on to his next fling. Why else would he be talking to the woman? It wasn't like he had children who were in her cla.s.s.

I couldn't go on mere suspicion. I needed proof.

They headed into the kitchen, so I tried the window, but it was locked tight. Biting my lip, I scanned the back of the house. A ma.s.sive oak was situated close to the upstairs windows. Maybe if I climbed high enough, I could see or hear something. Even better, maybe the window up there would be unlocked.

I rubbed my hands together and started climbing the tree. Heaving and puffing my way to the top, it dawned on me that I really did need to get in better shape. I looked down and let out a little yelp. The tree hadn't appeared this high from the ground. I found a st.u.r.dy branch and scooted my way to the edge. Dusk came early during the month of January in upstate New York, and it was getting hard to see.

I tried the upstairs window and lucked out. It opened. Not fully but enough for me to squeeze through. The screen to this window was missing, so I was able to climb right inside. I landed with a thud and scrambled to my feet.

"What was that?" I heard from right outside the bedroom door, and the k.n.o.b started to turn.

It was too late to scramble back outside without killing myself, so I closed the window and darted into the closet. As I closed the door, a whiff of starch mixed with mothb.a.l.l.s gagged me. I held my breath and peeked through the slats. Seconds later the couple strolled inside in a full embrace.

Good Lord, what had I gotten myself into?

"Don't worry about it, baby," Damon said, kissing the schoolteacher's neck. He was short but well built with dark masculine features and black slicked-back hair. All he needed were some chains around his neck, and he'd make the perfect gigolo.

"It was probably the wind knocking the tree branch against the gla.s.s," he went on. "I told you that you need to have the landscaper trim that back in the spring."

"Are you sure no one knows where you are?" the woman asked.

"Stop worrying, Mary. We're safe, but I don't have long." He pushed her back onto the mattress.

"Because if people find out, my reputation will be ruined," she continued. "That's why you can't use me as your alibi for the night Amanda Robbins died."

"Your reputation? What about my life? My wife will kill me. Things were over a long time ago with Amanda. She wouldn't take no for an answer. Even tried to trap me by getting pregnant, but it wouldn't have worked, anyway. She hadn't counted on my vasectomy. You're the one who really makes me happy, baby."

"Aw www, sweetie," Mary said, and then they kissed pa.s.sionately, her bun still firmly in place.

Damon pulled back and said while breathing hard, "Wanna watch a naughty movie?"

Mary giggled. "You read my mind."

Ew www! I looked away and sat back, but that didn't stop my ears from burning. The TV blared out sounds and dialogue so descriptive it left nothing to the imagination, no matter how hard I tried to block the mental image.

My phone chose that moment to ring. Thank G.o.d I'd had the sense to put it on vibrate. I checked the caller ID and groaned inwardly. "Hey, Detective, what's up?" I whispered as quietly as I could and cupped my hand over the mouthpiece. Didn't matter. The noise in the other room was so loud, my teakettle could go off, and they wouldn't hear it.

"Why are you whispering?" he asked.

"Bad sore throat. Contagious. Stay away." I peeked through the blinds and slapped a hand over my eyes. "Far, far away."

A peal of giggles and shrieks rang out.

"Where are you?"

"Home. It's the TV. Bad, bad TV."

"Good G.o.d, what are you watching?"

"You don't want to know." I pried one eye open and then squeezed it shut again. "Let's just say the rating is off the charts."

There was a pause. "Really?" His voice sounded gruff.

I'd roll my eyes if they were open, but there was no way I was taking a chance of seeing any more of that. My retinas would never be the same. "Men, you're all alike," I ground out. "I stumbled across this movie, but trust me, it's not something I ever care to see again. I'm changing the channel now. Was there something you wanted, Detective?"

"No." He grunted. "I don't want anything from you. Why would you think so?"

"That's good, because I have nothing to give you. Nothing at all. Got it?"

"Oh-kay. You been sniffing glue, Tink? Cuz you're acting strange again."

"I'm acting strange? That's rich coming from the man who wants nothing from me . . . yet you're the one who called me," I pointed out, adding a mental Duh!

"Oh, that." He sounded all business-like once more. "I called to tell you the nurse isn't talking, not to me, anyway. She has no alibi for the night of the murder. Says she was home, but I can't get a good read on her. She's getting her hair and nails done tomorrow at Pump up the Volume Hair Salon and Spa. I thought maybe you . . . Nah, it's probably a bad idea, especially with you being sick."

"What is it?"

"Well, I thought maybe you could go and see what you can find out. But I don't know if you're ready. It takes a lot of planning to pull off a stakeout or tail someone."

I glanced down at my Tweety Bird outfit and canary sweatshirt. Add in the fact that I was stuck in a closet, and I was forced to concede he had a point.

"To infiltrate a scene and blend in is even harder," he kept talking. "I'm not sure you can handle it, Tink. But if I show up, she won't say anything. Yet if you show up, she'll know something's off. Everyone knows you're not exactly a salon type of woman. See my dilemma?"

"I'm ready, I swear," I snapped as much as one can snap in a whisper voice. "I'm sure this sore throat is a twenty-four-hour thing," I whispered even lower, still bristling over his comment about me not being the salon type. "I'm not a country b.u.mpkin, you know. Besides, I have the perfect cover. I have a date with Sean O'Malley tomorrow, so I'll-"

"Excuse me, come again?" he sputtered.

"You heard me."

"I don't think that's such a good idea. Sean's a good guy, but he's a smooth operator. He'll talk circles around you and before you know it, you'll be the star of your own unrated movie."

"Who says I don't want to be?" I paused, but the detective was speechless for once. "Listen, I can take care of myself there, Spanky. It's just a date."

"Whatever." He coughed. "I really don't care what you do with your personal life. I was thinking of your reputation."

"Good G.o.d, you sound like my parents." I shuddered. "Here's the plan. I'll have Jo take me to the salon at the same time Nurse Doolittle will be there. We'll have a girls' day, and I'll get a makeover in preparation for my date. Women do that all the time, and I'll bet my tea leaves that Nurse Doolittle will be talking by the end of our session. Let's pray I won't have to endure a full makeover before she spills the beans."

The couple on the bed stood up and stumbled about in their pa.s.sion, crashing into the closet door. I flattened myself against the back wall behind a row of dresses, preparing myself for discovery. What on earth would I say if they found me playing Peeping Tom? The door didn't break, thank goodness, but it was loud. Then they fumbled their way into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

"What the h.e.l.l was that?" Mitch asked.

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Um, an action film, but no worries. I've had enough TV. Think I'll get some rest."

"Good idea. Report in tomorrow."

"I will." I hung up and quickly slipped out of the closet. I made my way over to the window, opened it as far as I could, and then squeezed outside on the branch, barely closing the window behind me.

Ice had formed on the branches now, and I carefully slid my way toward the center of the tree. I had almost made it when I slipped off the branch. I let out a little screech, my arms flailing about. Oh my G.o.d, I was going to die! I covered my face as I tumbled to the ground headfirst. Something jerked me to a stop, and I hung suspended upside down, my heart pounding wildly. The edge of my canary yellow hoodie had snagged on another branch, but who knew how long that would hold.

I whipped out my phone and dialed as fast as I could.

"I thought you were resting," the detective asked as soon as he answered.

"I need your help now!" I said in a perfectly clear, non-sore voice.

"That has to be the fastest recovery in the world. What was it, a twenty-four-second bug?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just get over here now, and don't ring the doorbell or let anyone see you. Go out back by the tree and look up."

"Huh? You really are crazier than a cuckoo bird, aren't you, woman?"

"And you really are a b.u.t.thead. Just . . . hurry." I gave him the address and disconnected as I started to slip.

Mere minutes later an all-too-familiar smooth, deep voice from below said, "You've taken bird-watching to a whole new level, Tweety."

"I thought it was Tink."

"Not today, apparently, because you sure can't fly. What the h.e.l.l were you doing?" He stood there with his hands on his hips, scowling up at me.

"I wasn't bird-watching. I was tailing a perp." A ripping noise sounded, and I dropped a few inches, letting out a yelp.

"He's not a perp. He's a suspect. I thought I told you to stay out of trouble. And what on earth are you wearing ? Don't you know anything?"

"Who cares about that, just get me down. Can't you see I'm going to fall? The point is Damon has an alibi. They're playing school as we speak."

"The unrated movie, I take it?"

"And the action flick . . . so not pretty. If I wasn't sick before, I am now." Another ripping noise sounded, and I squeaked like a mouse.

Mitch sighed. "What in the world am I going to do with you, Tink?"

"For starters, get me down from here. My head is pounding from the blood rush, and I don't know how much longer my sweatshirt is going to hold."

He stood directly below me and held out his arms. "Don't worry. I've got you."

"And you call me crazy?" I sputtered.

"It's too icy for me to climb up. I'm twice your size, Tink. I'll just catch you when you fall. I won't drop you." I glanced down at him and met his eyes as he added, "Trust me."

Something inside me believed him, and I did exactly that. Squeezed my eyes closed tight and waited for the inevitable. Seconds later, my sweatshirt gave way and I tumbled to the earth below.

He kept his word and didn't drop me, but unfortunately, I flattened him good. He lay sprawled on his back with me flat on top of him, belly to belly. We both fought to catch our breath, but I fared much better than he did.

I could feel his heart beat beneath mine, and the heat of his body warmed me through my tattered hoodie. "Thanks," I finally got out, feeling safe, not wanting to leave the warmth of his arms. I lifted my head and looked into his eyes.

He stared at me for what seemed like forever, looking like he wanted to kiss me and throttle me at the same time. I knew exactly how he felt. "You're welcome, I think. Though this hurt a lot more than it would have ten years ago. I'm going to pay for this tomorrow, I'm sure."

"We should probably go, huh?" I asked.

"Probably," he responded.

"Why aren't you moving?"

"I'm not sure I can."