by Meri Allen
Voelker glanced down the hall.
“Looking for someone?” I took a bite of Pru’s delicious salad.
His neck reddened and he scratched his throat. Ah, his tell. “I’m aware that Miss Spooner has gone back to work in Boston. I asked her to keep me apprised of her whereabouts.”
“She’ll be back this weekend,” I said.
His face shut down, the professional cop back, but not before I saw his lips curve. Maybe he was human.
As I answered his questions about the fire I struggled with my decision to keep my thoughts about Darwin to myself. Darwin’s explanation made sense, right? Why would Darwin want to harm Aaron?
A thought chilled me. Maybe it was because Aaron had Darwin on surveillance tape the night of the murder?
“Do you believe him?” The words were out before I could stop them.
Voelker’s eyes leveled a keen look. “Him, who?”
“Aaron said he didn’t have his security cameras on the night of Mike’s murder.” Why would Aaron say that if it wasn’t true? Was Aaron protecting someone? A thought sprang to mind: Was Aaron blackmailing someone?
Blackmail? Aaron had mentioned “the real estate gal”—Emily again. She’d admitted being at the Love Nest the night of the murder. Did his security tapes capture evidence that she’d killed Mike? Would Aaron protect Emily—for a price?
I wondered if those tapes were ashes now.
Voelker was silent as he gathered his papers. “That’s all for now. Thank you.”
We went to the door. Some interviewer I was—I hadn’t learned anything from him. Even Rocky and Sprinkles shot me disdainful looks as they stalked away.
I decided to throw caution to the wind. “When did you start working here in Penniman?”
Voelker pulled up short, and gave me a puzzled, but good-humored look. “Last summer.”
“Are you married?” Asking for a friend.
He laughed, shaking his head. “Goodbye, Ms. Rhodes.”
I ran upstairs and rustled through the box of clothes Paulette had sent over. I slipped into a blue dress made of one of those no-wrinkle wonder fabrics. It fit! It was a miracle. I tied a scarf around my neck and put on lipstick. I was the hero of Farm Lane. I hoped the hospital would let me talk to Aaron.
But when I asked at the hospital Information Desk, the receptionist told me that he was in ICU. Her desk was ringed with photos of a German shepherd. “Come back tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll talk to you. You’re the girl who saved him and his dog, right?”
“Just his dog,” I said.
She patted my hand. “His most precious possession.”
I headed back to the shop where crates of peaches were stacked by the back door. Buzzy’s voice rang in my ears: “Fresh fruit must go into the ice cream within twenty-four hours.”
Flo greeted me. “Riley, you’re supposed to be resting.”
“While you have all the fun?” I tied on an apron, fumbling the strings with my bandaged hand. Flo took the strings and tied them for me. “I have to get going on the peaches.”
She pursed her lips. “With your finger bandaged?”
McGillicuddy had to bite me on my right hand. Could I still use a knife? “No worries.”
Gerri called my name from the front of the shop. Flo and I went to the counter, where Cadillac Ranch was taking a massive double-scoop cone from Gerri’s hand.
He touched the brim of his hat. “Ladies. I have a proposition.”
Three heart rates ticked up simultaneously.
“Word is that you have a lot of peaches. Peach ice cream’s my favorite. I’d like to offer an exchange. I’ve been getting a little rusty and playing would help me keep my fingers and voice in shape. Singing here the other night was a pleasure. If you’d let me play again, you could pay me in peach ice cream.”
“That’s a deal,” I said. “I’ll do my best to get the ice cream ready but I’m a bit slow right now.” I raised my bandaged hand.
His deep brown eyes radiated concern. “What happened?”
Flo launched into a highly embellished description of my rescue of McGillicuddy.
“My buddy Stretch knows his way around a kitchen. I have it on good authority that he’s free this evening,” Jasper said. “If you like, I could bring him to help.”
Stretch? My stomach fell. Stretch, the strange guy who I thought was the firebug? But … this was an opportunity to question him. We wouldn’t be alone in the shop. Plus, Jasper vouched for him. “Can I pay him in ice cream too?”
“I think he’d like that. We’ll be back around seven.” He touched his hat and went outside.
“Stretch the vagabond used to work in a kitchen?” Gerri sniffed. “It must’ve been before whatever misfortune befell him and sent him onto the streets.”
I shrugged. “If he can make ice cream, I’m happy to have the help.”
Chapter 40
When Darwin brought us dinner, I noticed that he and Pru were easier together. I was relieved, but then I remembered Pru’s face when we talked of Brooke and Brooke’s child. If only I could discover who was driving the car the night Martha Woodley was killed, it would ease Pru’s mind, just as bringing Mike’s killer to justice would ease Caroline’s.
Who had answers? I was pretty sure the answer to Mike’s murder was on Aaron’s security tapes, which were probably destroyed in the fire. But Gerri said that Aaron worked in computers. Maybe the video was stored on some distant server. Or …
My mind flashed back to the moment Aaron dropped McGillicuddy, his most precious possession, into my arms. You save your most precious possessions in a fire. Isn’t that what people say?
Aaron had been fussing with McGillicuddy’s collar before he handed him out the window. I was sure there were charms or dog tags on McGillicuddy’s collar, but could it have been something even more essential? Something like a flash drive?
I had to check. “I’m going to walk up to Dandy’s and see how McGillicuddy’s doing.”
“I’ll hold down the fort,” Pru said. “But don’t take long. We have to get the peach ice cream going.”
“I’ll be quick.” I jogged up the lane. Dandy stood at the side of the Fire Chief’s SUV, McGillicuddy straining on his leash. As I approached, the Chief gave her a wave and the SUV moved down the lane.
“Riley, how are you?” Dandy smiled but McGillicuddy growled low in his throat. Dandy picked him up and gave him a tight squeeze. “McGillicuddy, this lady saved your life. Behave!”
“I came to see how McGillicuddy’s doing.”
“Right as rain, not a hair was harmed. That nice veterinarian Dr. Pryce came over to see him, can you believe it?” Dandy said. “A house call. Aaron must be one of his best customers.”
“When I was holding McGillicuddy last night, I thought there was something attached to his collar. Something like—” Suddenly I felt foolish, like I was confessing to a nutty conspiracy theory. “Something like a charm, or tag. Is it there?” I tilted my head to look.
She turned McGillicuddy so I could see a single bone-shaped charm with Dr. Pryce’s name and phone number. “No other jewelry for McGillicuddy. Must’ve been your imagination.”
My heart fell. I was sure there’d been more than one tag on the collar. “Maybe it dropped off.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open for it,” she said. “Did you get my note and call Dr. Pryce?”
“I did, yes, thank you. Everything’s okay.”
“Good.” She gave McGillicuddy a cuddle. “I’ll check for another charm when I go back to the house.”
“Thanks. Well, I have to go back and make ice cream.”
“We’ll have to stop by for ice cream, won’t we, McGillicuddy?” She set him down again.
“Yes, please do. Good night.” McGillicuddy and Dandy slowly crossed the street.
I turned to the smoldering hulk of Aaron’s house. One of the fire department vans was still parked in the driveway and investigators were moving around the yard. I vowed to go bac
k and search when they left.
As I headed back to Udderly, I was surprised to see Rocky by the side of Dandy’s garage. He slipped around the corner like a shadow.
Chapter 41
Back at Udderly, a party had started without me. Music flowed from the front parking lot, drifting over conversation and laughter from what sounded like a big crowd. I went in the back door of the shop and pulled up short.
Stretch was at the stove, stirring a pot. He was clad in jeans and a pressed denim button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to display colorful sleeves of tattoos. He wore black high-top sneakers in place of his heavy boots but still had his black cap tugged low on his forehead. I took a deep breath. Cadillac Ranch said he was a good cook and I needed help. Plus I wanted answers. Despite Buzzy’s saying that beggars can’t be choosers pinging into my mind, I gave him a smile.
“Hi, Stretch.”
“Hi, Riley. Thanks for letting me help.” Instead of giving off his usual skittish vibe, he now seemed relaxed. “I love making ice cream.”
“Glad to have your help.” As I washed my hands and slipped a plastic glove over my bandaged hand, he moved to the Book of Spells.
“It’s exactly the same!” he marveled.
“What’s the same?”
He looked up, his face open, and I could see his bright hazel eyes, his aquiline nose, his broad smile with slightly crossed front teeth. A curl of red hair escaped from his cap. “Your friend Buzzy’s recipe’s the same as mine. Same with some of the others.” He flipped through the book. “She and I were culinary soul mates. I wish I could’ve met her.”
“Me too.” I looped on my apron and reached for the ties. Before I could tie it, Stretch was there tying it for me. Before I could thank him, he was back with the peaches, holding a knife. Before I could begin to feel uncomfortable, he started cutting peaches.
“Better if you stir, with your finger bandaged. I’ll be okay with the peaches.” His hands flew—I’d never seen anyone slice anything so fast, so deftly, and he cut every piece into uniform size.
I took up the spoon at the stove, stirring a fragrant custard. “Cadillac, er, Jasper tells me you’re a chef.”
He hunched his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. Taking a break.”
I backed off. If he remained comfortable I’d get more information out of him. Applause flowed into the workroom. “How did you and Jasper meet?”
He sliced another peach, tossed a piece into his mouth, and sighed. “I went to Texas to learn how to cook BBQ. Jasper has a ranch where he let me live alongside his cattlemen. I love traveling and trying the local cuisine. He told me he was coming out here to recharge his creative batteries, and I decided to come out too.” His words sparked a memory. I’d seen a cooking show about a chef who traveled in disguise to different parts of the country to learn about regional foods. A chef with red hair.
Then it hit me. This was Chef Zach Coppola. If I mentioned knowing his identity, would he bolt? He had a reputation for being talented, but also quirky and mercurial.
I needed those peaches prepped. I shifted gears. “I know what you mean. When I was in Thailand, I discovered Thai stir-fried ice cream. I became obsessed with making it.”
“Stir-fried?” he said “No way. Tell me more.”
I told him about the street vendors who make ice cream treats on a chilled metal plate, adding different fruit, nuts, and flavorings, then “stir frying” the mixture together across the surface. It looked like stir frying, except the mix was being chilled by the super-cooled metal. When the mix became the consistency of ice cream, the cooks used special spatulas to push the ice cream into pretty rolls, put the rolls into cups, and top them with even more delicious fruits, nuts, candy, and cream.
“Thailand.” His eyes became dreamy.
“Peaches.” I pointed at the peaches.
He met my eyes for the first time and smiled.
After we’d finished the ice cream and cleaned up the kitchen, we sat outside at a picnic table away from the lighted parking lot. The crowd was heading home and a peaceful silence settled around us.
“I couldn’t have done that without you. Thank you, Stretch.” I thought the moment was relaxed enough for the question I was dying to ask. “Do you like being called Stretch? What’s your real name?”
“I kind of like having a nickname. My real name’s Zach. Zach Coppola.” He took off his cap, his trademark curly red hair spilling out. “This thing gets hot.” He scrubbed at his hair. “I like to kind of go undercover when I immerse myself in a place.”
I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to know, but again I approached cautiously. “Where are you staying? At Moy Mull?”
He looked down. “Well, I did some nights.”
“You’ve been camping,” I said.
He took a breath and raised his eyes to mine. “I didn’t start that house fire. You have to believe me.”
“I do believe you. But you have been camping?”
“I want to … live a place fully, right?” he said. “Become part of the landscape, the terroir.”
I’d heard that word before, at a winery. “The earth?”
“The land, the weather, everything that makes a place distinctive. I got interested in local food and then foraging. That’s what I’ve been doing here. Foraging. Living off the land. Wild mushrooms, greens, onions, berries … it’s all there. I even got a wild turkey one day.”
The knives I’d found in Dandy’s yard. “You lost your knives.”
He leaned toward me. “Do you have them?”
“No, the police do.”
“Great,” he raised his hands. “I don’t want to get arrested for trespassing.”
I considered. “You were camping on Caroline’s land. I’m sure she won’t press charges.”
He held his head in his hands. “Yeah, that night I lost my knives, I was off my game. I’d found a great spot by the cemetery but I heard the cops come. I figured that crazy lady I’d seen earlier saw me and reported me.”
Crazy lady? “What crazy lady?”
“I had cleared some ground there at the cemetery a few days before.” He pointed up Farm Lane. “The dead have a great view on the side of that hill.”
I shuddered, but remembered that Chef Zach was known for being eccentric.
“Anyway, it was late at night—not sure what time, but your shop was dark for hours. I saw a lady digging up flowers on a grave. I thought, that’s strange, but what do I know? I’m pretty weird.”
“Do you mean planting flowers?” I’d noticed fresh flowers on Brooke’s grave. I shuddered. Did Dandy plant them at night?
Zach said, “I’m not sure what she was doing exactly. I didn’t stick around.”
“Do you remember what day that was?”
He shrugged. “Last Friday?”
The night of the murder. “Did you hear anything else? See anything else?”
“No, I took off when I saw her. I went back a few days later, but that’s when the cops came and I lost my knives. Then last night … I heard about that fire. But it wasn’t me.” He put his cap on, tucking his hair underneath. “You’ve got to believe me.”
I searched my feelings. I did believe him. “Where were you last night?”
“I stayed at Moy Mull, the art colony. I have a room there, where I keep my stuff. Jasper can vouch for me. We were up till all hours talking. He’s a get-up-late, stay-up-late guy.”
“What time did you guys turn in?” I asked.
“Two-ish? You can ask Jasper.”
Rocky had woken me up at one o’clock. Stretch had an alibi. So who set the fire at Aaron’s house?
Chapter 42
After I said good night to Stretch/Chef Zach, he walked down Farm Lane to Fairweather Road, insisting that he’d enjoy the walk back to Moy Mull.
I ran into the house, my body aching for a hot bath and a few hours with my feet up, but after flushing for Sprinkles and giving her and Rocky a treat, I grabbed a powerful flashlight from the mudro
om and hurried outside.
All was peaceful as I walked up the hill, but I was troubled. I was certain that object I’d felt on McGillicuddy’s collar was important. If Dandy didn’t have it, it must’ve fallen off.
I swung my legs over the police tape at the end of Aaron’s driveway—so sue me—and followed the flashlight’s broad beam. At one point I pulled up short, stopped by the gleam of light on metal, but it was only a crushed beer can. The smell of smoke and wood doused by the firefighters’ hoses grew stronger as I crossed the stone patio and approached the house. Bits of trash—wrappers, a pie tin, a length of chain, an old watering can—all caught the beam. I brushed aside the singed weeds at the foundation under the window where I’d caught McGillicuddy, but found nothing.
I walked back to the driveway entrance, stepped over the tape, swung the beam from side to side as I crossed the lane to Dandy’s house, retracing my steps from the previous night. Her house was dark, except for security lights on the driveway and by the front door. I pushed the front gate, but it was locked.
I considered climbing over, but I couldn’t bring myself to do more than scan with the flashlight. No gleam of metal, only glorious roses in lush summer bloom. Still, the object could have fallen off McGillicuddy’s collar into one of these flower beds or the house. I’d come back tomorrow and search.
Chapter 43
The next morning, I slept late. I dashed down to Udderly, but Willow was already there with three interns. She’d drawn a ripe golden peach and the words “It’s Here!” on the flavors chalkboards.
A half hour before opening, a line formed outside the shop. Word spread fast in Penniman.
My cell rang. “Riley!” Caroline spoke in a strained whisper. “I just heard about the fire on the news! Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’ve been so busy. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Aaron’s in the hospital but I think he’s okay. I’m going to go see him. I have a lot to tell you.”
We promised to talk later and I hung up.
Three interns took the morning shift at the shop. Pru had been out late delivering a baby and was sleeping. I did a quick inventory. With Chef Zach’s help, I had enough peach ice cream to last the week.
