Free Skating Under the Wire: A Mystery (Rebecca Robbins Mysteries) by Joelle Charbonneau Page A

drive me crazy. As it is, you drive me crazy enough all on your own.” He took a step closer. “You have a suspect. Who is it?”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    He smiled and took another step toward me. “Your eyebrow goes up when you’re lying.”
    Crap. I’d been trying to control that. Apparently, all my practicing in the mirror had yet to pay off.
    “That’s okay,” Sean said, taking another step closer. “I’ll find out who it is eventually. Just remember, Rebecca…” His eyes met mine. Sweat prickled at the back of my neck. Sean reached out and tucked a plasticized strand of hair behind my ear. His smile vanished. “I’m watching you.”
    Yikes.
    Skirting around Sean and the piles of folders strewn across the floor, I headed for the door.
    “Oh, Rebecca.”
    I stiffened and turned. “Yes.”
    “Nice shirt.”
    I looked down, remembered I was wearing Lionel’s shirt, and felt my cheeks start to burn. My archnemesis knew I’d had a sleepover with Lionel. I wanted to scream or say something pithy that would wipe off the smirk that I was certain was gracing Sean’s handsome, albeit annoying, face. Instead, I did what any self-respecting girl would do.
    I bolted.
    My face was still hot when I exchanged the flannel coat for my puffy one. I was thankful the weather made everyone in the dry cleaners think I was cold instead of mortified. To avoid future embarrassment, I steered my car to the rink. A quick shower and change of clothes later and I’d almost convinced myself Sean was simply complimenting my sense of style. While my lying needed work, my denial skills were coming along nicely.
    Now that my hair could move and my clothes weren’t broadcasting my newly rejuvenated sex life, I headed to the north side of town, where I was certain I’d find the person I needed to question: Doc Truman’s nurse and all-around girl Friday, Eleanor Schaffer.
    Sure enough, Eleanor was exactly where I expected to find her—soothing sick patients and handing out lollipops in the reception area of Doc Truman’s office. A little blond girl raced around the room, singing at the top of her lungs, while Eleanor talked to her harried mother about a follow-up appointment to make sure little Bianca was no longer contagious and could return to school. The girl in question shoved her fingers in her mouth and then proceeded to rub them on the table, two of the four waiting-area chairs, the counter, and her mother’s jeans. Little Bianca was an epidemic waiting to happen.
    Once Bubonic Bianca and her mother were safely out of my airspace, I sat on a chair untouched by Bianca’s slobber-coated fingers and waited for Eleanor to escort the remaining patient back to see Doc Truman. When she returned five minutes later, she gave me a weak smile and dropped her ample body into one of the waiting-room chairs with a thud.
    “What a day. Our part-time receptionist just quit, and almost every second grader in Mrs. Malarky’s class has lice.”
    “Lice?” I reached up and touched my freshly washed hair.
    Eleanor waved off my concern. “Just make sure none of the kids take skating lessons until they’ve been cleared to go back to school and you’ll be fine.” She squinted at me from behind her fake eyelashes. “Speaking of fine, what are you doing here? I hope you’re not sick. Not with the wedding only a week and a half away.”
    “I’m good.” Ignoring the desire to scratch my scalp, I said, “Mrs. Johnson hired me to look into the Thanksgiving Day thefts.”
    Eleanor smiled. “Ethel said something about that this morning when she called to ask if I’d heard anything about Ginny’s funeral service. Everyone I’ve talked to is heartbroken about Ginny’s passing. Especially since so many of us talked to her at Danielle’s bridal shower just before she passed on. She was so happy and energetic, talking about her upcoming trip. I guess it just goes to show that you have to live every moment to the fullest because