Ladies' Night Andrews, Kay (great novels .txt) 📖

strap of J’Aimee’s top. The younger woman tried to tug loose of Grace’s grip, but she held tight.

“Oh, don’t go just yet, J’Aimee. Don’t you want to tell Ben about the rest of the sweet stunts you pulled at that house? I mean, besides the paint? Don’t you want to brag about how you actually pooped in the bathtub, and then wrote obscenities on the wall with your own excrement?”

“Classy,” Camryn muttered.

Ben’s face registered revulsion. “Come on, Grace.”

“I’m betting you didn’t share that happy little story,” Grace said. “Fortunately, I’ve got pictures to prove it,” She reached for her cell phone. She didn’t, actually, but she knew Ben wouldn’t look at them, even if she did have pictures.

“Gross,” J’Aimee said, trying to inch away. But Grace pulled her back, keeping a firm hold on J’Aimee’s top.

“You should know,” Grace retorted. “How about the fire? Did you tell Ben you also set a fire in the living room? If it hadn’t been for the neighbor, who saw the flames shortly after you tried to torch the place, it probably would have burned to the ground.”

“I didn’t!” J’Aimee said stubbornly. She grabbed Grace’s hands and wrenched herself loose.

Camryn had been standing quietly on the sidelines, but now she stepped forward. She took one of the sneakers and sniffed it delicately.

“Yup,” she said succinctly. “Lighter fluid.” She carefully placed both shoes in her oversized pocketbook. “The fire marshall is going to want to take a look at these.” She glanced over at Grace. “Let’s take the shirt and pants, too. I’ll bet they’ve got traces of lighter fluid, too. It doesn’t even take a crime lab.”

“Who the hell are you?” J’Aimee demanded.

“Just a friend,” Camryn said lightly. “Who happens to be an investigative reporter.”

“She’s from channel four,” Ben said, sounding uneasy. “The same reporter who snuck in after Grace left.”

“How did they get in here today?” J’Aimee demanded. “I thought you left instructions at the gate.”

Camryn struck a pose and held up the sneaker like an imaginary microphone, saying sotto voce, “News Four You has learned that a local lifestyles blogger, J’Aimee…”

She turned to Grace. “What’s her last name?”

“Scoggins,” Grace said.

“Lifestyle blogger J’Aimee Scoggins is under investigation for breaking and entering, destruction of private property, and arson after she allegedly broke into a residence on Anna Maria Island being redecorated by rival blogger Grace Davenport. Davenport, thirty-four…”

“I’m actually thirty-eight,” Grace corrected.

“Davenport, thirty-eight, is the estranged wife of local businessman Ben Stanton. Sources tell me that J’Aimee Scoggins and Stanton are romantically involved,” Camryn said.

“Very funny,” Ben said. He pointed toward the door. “Now, leave. Or I will call the cops.”

Grace gathered up the rest of the paint-spattered clothing and slid it into the plastic sack, which she gripped tightly.

“You still haven’t asked her if she did it,” she said. “But maybe you already know the answer.”

Ben turned suddenly and stared at J’Aimee. “Tell me you didn’t do any of this. Please.”

J’Aimee took a step backward. “She’s bluffing. She can’t prove those clothes are mine. She probably put them here herself.”

“J’Aimee?” Ben’s deep voice was chilly. “Yes or no?”

“Yes! Okay?” J’Aimee said defiantly. “It was just a little joke. God! You people need to lighten up. I didn’t mean to break the glass. I was opening the window, which was unlocked, and it just cracked. You can’t break into a place that isn’t even really locked up.”

“What about the paint?” Ben asked.

“Big deal. A little orange paint. The place is a dump. Anyway, she had it coming, writing to my advertisers, telling them I was stealing from her … We lost our Kohler ads because of her.”

Ben swore softly, under his breath. “And what she said? About the bathroom? Dear God, tell me you didn’t actually…”

“It was just a joke!” J’Aimee exclaimed. “Okay, maybe it did get a little out of hand. I took a bunch of empty beer cans over there, to make it look like it was kids, and I had a couple of wine coolers of my own, so maybe that wasn’t really a cool thing to do.” She glanced at Grace. “I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

“No,” Grace snapped. “Sorry doesn’t cut it anymore. You could have burned that house to the ground. It belongs to a sweet old man who was getting ready to rent it to me. But after you vandalized the place, he just wants to sell it and be done with it. You and I both know you weren’t joking around when you went over there the other night. You wanted to send me a message. Well, you did that, all right. I got the message loud and clear.”

Ben was shaking his head. “I can’t believe you pulled a stupid stunt like this. Arson! Really? They put people in jail for that, J’Aimee.”

“I’m sorry! I told you I was sorry,” J’Aimee said, her voice pleading. “Ben…”

“Go take your shower,” Ben said wearily. “I can’t deal with you right now.”

J’Aimee turned and slunk out of the room. A moment later, they heard the bedroom door slam.

Camryn edged toward the door, too. “I’ll just, uh, be waiting outside. Whenever you’re ready.”

Ben watched her go. He sighed loudly. “Look, Grace, you have to believe me. I did not put J’Aimee up to this. I would never … I mean, we’ve had our differences.” He swallowed and looked away. “The stuff with Gracenotes, that’s business. It’s not personal.”

“It’s very personal to me,” Grace said. “You and J’Aimee have done your best to put me out of business. You say it wasn’t your idea to have her vandalize that house, but you and I both know J’Aimee’s never had an original idea in her life. She took her cues from you. Maybe you didn’t light that fire, but you sure as hell showed her where the matches were.”

He rubbed his jaw. “You’re not serious about going to the police with this, are you? J’Aimee’s just a kid. Yeah, she did it to get back at you. Because you intimidate