The Last Ride

by Sonia Parin

“Is it a lucrative business?” Abby asked.

  “After paying the crew and acts, he must have had enough money left over. From what I hear, he retired to a nice place.” Frankie looked around the large foyer. “He didn’t buy this house himself. Sam told me he’d inherited it.”

  Yes, and it had come with a caveat. Warren hadn’t had a choice. He’d had to leave it to his next of kin. Kinsley had to be related to him. But she would have known… “Do you know if he had any family?”

  “He never mentioned it.”

  “Did you ever hear him promise someone in the circus he would name them in his will?” And would Frankie Short divulge the information? Stabbing her fingers through her hair, Abby wondered why she still couldn’t bring herself to trust the woman.

  Frankie gave a slow shake of her head. “I know everyone thinks the circus is a large family, but at the end of the day, it’s each to his own.”

  “I heard Sam Peters left on bad terms.”

  “You must have heard that from the detective in charge of the investigation. I guess that means you’re on good terms with the police.”

  Not wanting to come across as pushy, Abby waited for her to reveal more about Sam’s relationship with the circus owner. Unfortunately, she didn’t.

  “Sam and I got on well enough. He didn’t talk much and I’m not much of a talker either.”

  “You must have missed him when he left.”

  Frankie nodded. “One day he just packed up and left. I only know he had a disagreement with Warren because I saw them arguing. They were both red-faced and shouting at each other.”

  “Did you make any of it out?”

  “I think it might have been over a woman. I heard Sam say she deserved better and…” Frankie looked up at the ceiling. “Hang on. Sam also said… She deserves to know. I didn’t hear them mention a name.”

  This raised questions in Abby’s mind. What sort of relationship did Sam have with Warren for him to be able to tell him off? He must have felt strongly enough about it to suddenly leave. Or… “Did Warren fire him?”

  “No. That’s what surprised me. After the way Sam shouted at Warren Kinsley, I would have expected him to be fired. But I remember seeing Warren back down. Sam was a creature of habit. He would have stayed on with the circus until someone asked him to leave and suddenly, he left for no reason.”

  She deserves to know.

  Abby ran the words through her mind but her thoughts were interrupted. Hearing voices approaching, she turned. Faith and Kinsley were deep in conversation.

  “Hey, you two. Did you find anything?” Abby asked.

  “A couple of bird’s nests,” Faith said.

  “Sam cleared one out in the downstairs fireplace so I could have a proper fire in winter and he said he’d take a look around and fix the others but he never got around to it.”

  Abby checked the time. “We might as well head back. I’m hoping Joshua will swing by with some news.” She looked at Frankie. “Will you be okay driving back?”

  “Yes. I have to return the car to the garage.”

  “And how will you get to town?”

  Frankie shrugged. “I’ll hitch a ride. There’s bound to be someone on the road. If not, I’ll walk. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

  “How about we follow you back to the garage and then you can hitch a ride with us,” Abby offered. “Will that work for you?”

  ***

  “GO ON, SAY IT.” ABBY looked over at Faith. “I know you want to.”

  “Okay. You’ve changed your tune. I saw the way you were chatting with her as if you’d suddenly become best friends.”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “Do I need to make an offering to the Gods of contrition? The woman appeared at the wrong time and wrong place. It made sense to jump to conclusions and point the finger of suspicion her way.” Seeing Frankie approaching, Abby straightened. “Here she comes. We should talk about something else. I don’t want her to think we’ve been discussing her behind her back.”

  “What should we talk about?” Faith asked.

  “The weather. That’s always safe.”

  “That’s too obvious. She’ll know we’ve been talking about her.”

  “Well, do you have any better suggestions?”

  “She looks broad around the shoulders,” Faith said. “But there’s a lightness to her step. It makes her look quite dainty.”

  “You call that changing the subject?”

  “I’m hungry. Are we eating at the pub?” Faith drew out her cell phone. “If we are, I’ll have to call my neighbor and ask her to take my dogs for the night. They love their sleepovers.”

  “You know I always eat at the pub.”

  “Yes, but do you also plan on working on the crime board tonight? Meaning, do you want me to hang around and brainstorm?”

  “Yes, you should. I always have better results with you around.”

  Frankie climbed into the back seat. “Thanks for waiting.”

  Abby looked over her shoulder. “We were just discussing dinner. Would you like to join us?” Abby figured it would be a good opportunity to ask her a few more questions.

  “That would be good. I can see why Sam liked this town. It’s quiet but there’s a sense of everyone being friendly.”

  Abby put the car into gear and drove them back to town thinking Joshua had cleared Frankie Short of any wrongdoing, so she had no more reason to suspect her.

  ***

  “THE POLICE OFFICER MOVED OUT of the room. That either means the danger is over or you’ve been cast adrift,” Mitch said. Lowering his voice, he smiled. “I see you have a new buddy. I didn’t think you were the type to walk on the wild side.”

  “She’s been cleared of any wrongdoing.” Abby placed her order for drinks. “Has Joshua been around?”

  As Mitch shook his head, Markus approached the bar. “What are you doing having dinner with the killer?”

  Abby’s voice hitched. “She’s been cleared.”

  Markus lifted an eyebrow. “That’s no reason for Kinsley to be out and about.”

  “She’ll be fine. She has to be. Kinsley refuses to eat another meal in my apartment,” Abby said and looked around the bar. “I don’t see any new faces. We’re among friends.”

  Markus shared a look of surprise with Mitch. “What is she thinking? The real killer could be one of us.”

  “If anyone takes a shot at Kinsley I’m sure you two will come to her rescue.” Abby grinned. “Hey, do you guys have any jobs going at the moment?”

  The two brothers exchanged a silent conversation, then Markus spoke, “As a matter of fact, yes. We’re looking for someone to do some bartending for us. I guess you’re now going to suggest we hire a killer.”

  “She’s been cleared,” Abby said again. “And, yes. She’d be good. She needs a job. We’ll talk about it tomorrow over breakfast.”

  “Joyce is right,” Markus said and patted Abby on the head. “Abby Maguire has grown too big for her shoes.”

  “Hey. When did she say that?”

  Markus scratched his head. “Can’t say for sure. I’ve heard her say it a couple of times. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it, but I’d have to agree with her other comment about you becoming bossy.”

  “I’m not bossy. I… I make decisions quickly and that can be misconstrued.” Clicking her fingers, she added, “We’ll be ready to order soon so hop to it.”

  ***

  “SAM KNEW HOW TO FIX things,” Frankie Short murmured as she finished her drink. “And if he didn’t, he found a way to learn how to do it. I’m not surprised he got the carousel to work.”

  Kinsley gazed down into her glass. “I only knew him for a couple of months but, in that time, I felt I had a friend to rely on. Someone I could trust.”

  Frankie gave a pensive nod. “Yes, he would have had your back. I’m glad he found a place to settle down. He would have loved living out here. Given enough time, he would have helped you get the place fixed. I think
that’s why he contacted me. He probably saw the potential and thought I might be able to help.”

  Abby drained her glass and, looking up, she saw Joshua striding into the bar. Finally, she thought. She followed him up to the counter and nudged him. “Well?”

  Joshua smiled. “Well?”

  “Don’t you have anything to report?”

  “Can I have a drink first?”

  “All right. If you must. But hurry up.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “I see you’ve made a new friend.”

  “Yes, well… Everyone deserves a second chance. She’s not a bad sort.” Abby lowered her voice. “But I still feel she knows something. It might be something she’s not even aware of.”

  Mitch approached them and drummed his fingers on the counter. “Can I serve him now?”

  Mitch’s ability to hear her from the other end of the bar didn’t surprise Abby. “Yes. Go ahead, and I’ll have a refill too, please.”

  Mitch winked at Joshua. “What will it be?”

  “I guess I still need to keep my wits about me so I’ll have a beer, please.”

  Abby gave him a moment to take his first sip. “Did you get anything out of the accountant?” She’d been hoping he would provide a link to something they hadn’t even considered.

  “The paperwork is all above board. Warren Kinsley ran a squeaky-clean operation. He paid everyone on time. He lived frugally and kept a healthy savings’ account which went toward his retirement. He also made sure a percentage of his takings went to charity.”

  Abby closed her eyes and tried to find a gap in the information. “Did the accountant mention the house?”

  Joshua nodded. “He took care of all the associated costs until Warren’s death.”

  “And then?” Surely Warren Kinsley would have taken measures to ensure his heir could keep the house running, in whatever capacity.

  “When Warren sold the circus and retired, he finalized his business with the accountant leaving him only to deal with the house.”

  It didn’t make sense. “He must have had savings and investments. Who took care of that money?”

  “He managed it himself. Maybe he spent it all.”

  He did not die destitute, Abby insisted. “Did Warren ever stay at the house?”

  Joshua lifted a finger. “Aha. You’ll be pleased to know I asked that same question. The accountant said the circus had a year-round schedule and Warren never took time off.”

  “He must have visited without anyone noticing.” Abby imagined him making a special trip and hiding… What? If all his money could be accounted for, maybe they had to start looking elsewhere.

  “I sent you an email,” Joshua said.

  “Oh? What does it say?”

  “It’s a full touring schedule for the circus covering the last ten years. Same towns, same time every year.”

  “Are any of those towns nearby?”

  He nodded. “One. It’s an hour away.”

  Abby swirled the contents of her glass around. “Warren Kinsley could have driven out to the house and hidden a stash somewhere.”

  Joshua shook his head. “He didn’t drive. If he needed something, he’d send one of his circus crew. If he had to go somewhere, he’d get someone to drive him. When the circus traveled, he had one of the crew members do the driving. However, according to the accountant, Warren never left the grounds. Once the circus hit a town, he’d be there day and night making sure everything ran smoothly.”

  Abby couldn’t imagine him trusting someone enough to send them on an errand to hide something of value.

  “Looks like your friends are ditching you,” Mitch said.

  Abby turned in time to see Faith getting up. She waved and yawned. Kinsley and Frankie strode by saying they too were calling it a night.

  “And then there were two,” Mitch said.

  “I’m all out of ideas.” Abby finished her drink and considered taking herself to bed when a thought struck her. “How did the carousel end up at the house?”

  “That’s scary,” Joshua said. “We’re starting to think alike. I just had the same thought.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “THE ACCOUNTANT.” ABBY STIRRED AWAKE. Had she been dreaming? Rolling over, she reached for her cell phone and sent Faith a text message asking her to meet her for breakfast. They both had to hit the ground running.

  Moaning and groaning, she raked her fingers through her hair. Two days without a proper cup of coffee had been enough to transform her into a human wreck, all thanks to Joyce Breeland’s tyrannical underhandedness.

  Abby gritted her teeth and muttered a line from one of her favorite movies, “I shall conquer this. I shall.”

  Bit by bit, she began remembering the conversation she’d had with Joshua the night before.

  There had been something odd about a remark Joshua had said the accountant had made. “It will come to you, Abby Maguire. If it doesn’t, you won’t move on to discovering the identity of the Eden Bloggess and you’ll have to learn to sip tea.”

  Doyle poked his head around the corner. Seeing Abby awake, he leaped up onto the bed and gave her a doggy grin and a vigorous wag of his tail.

  “I guess you want me to get up and take you outside for your morning constitutional. Give me a minute to put street clothes on.”

  Abby rolled out of bed and grabbed a pair of sweat pants. “I think I should match this with a hoodie. I don’t want to expose my night after morning face to the general population. It’s usually quiet at this time of the morning, but one never knows.” Not bothering with Doyle’s little harness, they strode out. As she walked past the bar, Abby did a double take.

  Frankie Short and Mitch were standing behind the bar. Abby called out a greeting and only got a distracted wave from them.

  “I wonder what that’s about.” Striding out to the curb, she gave Doyle some privacy.

  Had Mitch actually offered Frankie a job? Her quiet demeanor might provide a nice buffer between the two brothers. Or, she might surprise everyone and show her true colors, whatever they might be.

  Hugging herself, she trotted on the spot and tried to ward off the morning’s chill. Looking up, Abby saw Faith striding toward her. She raised her hand and waved. “You’re out and about early.” Digging inside her pocket, she drew out a plastic bag and cleaned up after Doyle.

  “I tried having instant coffee,” Faith said.

  “No good?”

  “My stomach quivered with anxiety. If there’s anything you want me to do this morning, it’ll have to wait until I’ve calmed down.”

  “Let’s go in, and remember what Mitch said. You need to tell yourself you’re about to have the best coffee ever. I’ll leave you to it while I go have a shower and make myself presentable.”

  ***

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, ABBY RUSHED downstairs. “Why did the accountant say he took care of all the bills? According to Joshua, Warren Kinsley handled his own money. When he finalized his business dealings, he appointed the accountant to manage the estate.” Abby raised a finger. “Then I spoke with the lawyer, and he told me he took care of the estate.”

  Faith looked up, her eyes bright. “You really need to relax.” She patted the barstool next to her. “Sit. Enjoy.”

  “Huh?”

  “What will it be?” Frankie asked.

  Abby smiled. Great. Mitch had hired Frankie. “Coffee, please.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  Abby slumped against the counter. Hearing Frankie employing Joyce Breeland’s tactics could go either way. Just follow Mitch’s advice, she told herself.

  Faith nudged Abby and gave her a nod of encouragement. “Go on. Tell her what you need.”

  “I… I need to rev myself up and connect the dots.”

  “I’ll make you an Abby Maguire Lighting Bolt.” Frankie swung away and got busy with the coffee grinder.

  “What’s going on?” Abby whispered.

  Faith grinned. “Just wait until you
taste this. Joyce Breeland is about to get her comeuppance.”

  Frankie had her back to her so Abby leaned sideways to watch her. Despite her bulky build, she moved with lithe elegance and confidence. A few moments later, she set a cup in front of Abby and stepped back.

  “Go on. Taste it,” Faith encouraged.

  The first sip emptied Abby’s mind of all the thoughts that had been plaguing her. The second sip lifted her. Not physically, but rather spiritually. When she took the third sip, she sighed.

  “A sigh? You can do better than that. I actually moaned,” Faith admitted.

  Abby managed one word. “Good.” She spent the next few minutes in caffeine heaven. When she finished her coffee, Frankie set a small glass of water down in front of her.

  “It refreshes the palate. I put a few drops of lemon juice in it.”

  “How? When? Why?”

  Faith hugged her. “The Gods have smiled upon us and sent us a gift. Frankie is priceless. Can you believe it, she’s worked as a barista and knows everything there is to know about making coffee.”

  Frankie shrugged. “I’ve picked up a few talents along the way. I’m not just a pretty face.”

  “Apparently,” Faith said, “the boys were using the wrong water and the wrong temperature. Can you believe that?”

  Frankie nodded. “Bad water makes bad coffee. One should always use bottled spring water for best results.” She shrugged. “You can get away with plain tap water, but it’s usually not good enough for high quality coffee.”

  Faith bounced on her barstool. “Tell her about the temperature.” Carried away by her excitement, Faith didn’t wait for Frankie to answer and, instead, turned to Abby. “The brewing temperature of the water used is also very important. That’s where the boys got it wrong too and I’m willing to bet anything Joyce left the information out on purpose to ensure her coffee always tasted better.”

  Frankie went on to explain about temperatures and managed to dazzle Abby with her thorough understanding of the art of coffee making.

  “You’ll never guess what she named mine so I’ll tell you.” Faith performed a little jig on the spot. “The Chica Chica Boom Boom. I told her I wanted to be amazing today. And, here’s the proof. In answer to your question…”