by Sonia Parin
Luckily, Joyce didn’t put up a struggle but she had other ways of digging her heels in.
“I heard a rumor. The police were spotted driving at full speed. Word on the street is that there’s a killer on the loose.”
“Really?” Abby asked. “Maybe the police were on their way to rescue a kitty stuck in a tree. Why do people always have to jump to the worst conclusions?”
“I have it on good authority, the person who saw the squad cars also saw Detective Joshua Ryan. He wouldn’t attend a scene unless his detective skills were called for.”
“Your imagination is running away with you, Joyce. Come on. I need a drink.” Spotting Faith at the bar, Abby made a beeline for her and pretended to be surprised to see her. “Faith. Fancy meeting you here.”
Seeing Joyce, Faith snarled at her. “It’s the only place that will sell me coffee. I can’t function under these conditions.”
Abby stared at Joyce. “The ball is in your court, Joyce. If you want results, you’ll have to go easy on us. You have to give a little if you want something in return.”
Joyce’s chin went up a notch. “Okay, I’m a fair person. I’ll increase your daily quota to two coffees, but only if you give me an update now.”
Abby nodded. “Faith and I have been hard at work all day. Without an address, I’ve had to scour the countryside looking for Kinsley’s house. I’m hoping tomorrow will yield better results. Meanwhile, I think it would be a good idea to set up a surveillance of your café. We’ll close the newspaper office and put up a sign saying we’re… fumigating. That way, Faith can set up a work station at the café without anyone suspecting her of getting up to no good. Of course, it would look suspicious if she doesn’t have a cup of coffee on her table.”
Abby watched as the café owner processed the information. She knew it could go either way. She hoped it went in their favor.
Joyce pressed her hands to her hips and whispered, “You’ve won this round, Abby Maguire but I will hold you to your promise.”
Promise?
Abby didn’t want to push her luck so she refrained from making any remarks that would lose the little ground she’d gained.
Checking her watch, Joyce said, “I’ll leave you two ladies to it.”
The moment Joyce moved out of earshot, Faith sighed. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop her from going upstairs. Did she see Kinsley?”
“No, thank goodness.” Abby hoped no one else had seen Kinsley coming into the pub. If news reached Joyce, there would be no stopping her. “Right. This is what I have so far. Kinsley inherited the house from Warren Kinsley.”
“Does Joshua know?” Faith asked.
“I haven’t had a chance to tell him. He’s probably busy pursuing his own line of investigation. I’ll tell him as soon as I see him. Where was I? Oh, yes. We need to have a chat with the lawyer and find out all we can about the Kinsley family. There has to be a reason why Kinsley Roberts inherited the house but doesn’t share the same family name.”
“She could be a distant relative,” Faith suggested. “Perhaps too distant to share the family name and that’s why her parents named her Kinsley.”
“Yes, that’s a possibility. I don’t want to overburden you, but if you have the time, can you also please find out everything you can about Sam Peters?”
“Who is he?”
“The victim.”
“Oh. You have been busy.”
“He did some work for Kinsley. She didn’t go into great detail, but I assume he just turned up one day. I don’t like coincidences. Everything happens for a reason.”
Faith smiled. “You sound like a P.I.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “I must be role playing.”
Faith finished her drink and slid off her barstool.
“Going so soon?” Abby asked.
Faith grinned. “I have to get up at the crack of dawn to get to the café and start working.”
When Faith left, Mitch approached her. “How’s it going upstairs?”
“She’s opening up.” She leaned in and whispered, “Sam Peters. Do you know anything about him?”
“The name sounds familiar.” Mitch picked up a glass and inspected it for smudges. “Let me think.”
“He did some work for us.”
Abby nearly fell off her barstool. Markus, Mitch’s older brother, stood directly behind her, his eyebrows drawn down into a perpetual scowl. “I think I just lost ten years of my life. Can you not sneak up on people, Markus?”
“Sorry. Next time I’ll tap you on the shoulder.”
He settled down on the barstool beside her. “Why are you asking about Sam Peters?”
Abby bit the edge of her lip. “Oh, heck. You’re going to find out sooner or later. Someone killed him this morning.”
Markus didn’t even flinch. While Mitch stumbled back, his mouth gaping open. “Tell me you didn’t find him.”
Abby cringed. “Technically… I was the second person to see him. The third if you count the killer.”
“Does Kinsley Roberts have anything to do with it?” Mitch asked.
Abby gave a small nod.
“So that’s what you were hiding when you came in with her.” Mitch shook his head. “I don’t think I can ever trust you again, but well done on keeping the vital information to yourself for this long.”
Abby turned to Markus. “How well did you know Sam Peters?”
“I knew him as well as I needed to know him.” Markus gave a barely perceptible shrug. “He needed work. We were reorganizing the cellar so we gave him a trial run for a couple of days. He proved to be trustworthy and reliable so we kept him on for a while. When the job was done, he took off. He used to show up in town for a while and then disappear for months on end. He always kept to himself.”
Mitch clicked his fingers. “Oh, yeah. I remember him now. Late forties or maybe mid-fifties. He had that weather-beaten look about him. He’d come into the pub, sit in a corner and nurse a beer all night long.”
“Did you ever see him talking with anyone?” Abby asked.
Mitch shook his head. “He looked a bit rough around the edges.” Mitch looked at his brother. “And he always sported a dark scowl. You know the type that puts people off.”
Markus growled under his breath. “If you have something to say, say it to my face.”
Mitch put his hands up and backed away.
After a moment, Markus shook his head and said, “Dead. Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. He was always looking over his shoulder.”
Really? Maybe Kinsley didn’t have any reason to worry?
She leaned in. “Okay. What else can you tell me about him?”
Chapter Five
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Markus said. “You should start with freshly squeezed juice.”
Markus Faydon’s scowl had Abby shrinking back in her chair. The pub co-owner didn’t mean to intimidate her. Abby understood he wore a mask and you simply had to get past it. “I really need this coffee first. Without it, I won’t be able to order breakfast.”
He gave a woeful shake of his head. “You’re a fool to trust Joyce. I have no idea what she puts in her ground coffee, but it can’t be good. She has everyone wrapped around her little finger.”
Abby huffed out a breath. “I’d like to see you go a day without it.”
“I don’t drink it. I’m strictly a tea man.”
She couldn’t help smiling at the gruff tone of his voice. A new age man hiding behind a rough exterior. “Herbal tea?” she teased.
He nodded. “Peppermint is my favorite, followed by lemongrass.”
“This is almost too much to take in. I can feel the coffee kicking in. Just give me another minute.” She’d come down to breakfast fully prepared to face another round of talks with the Faydon brothers. Both had promised to trawl through their memories and try to find any pertinent information about Sam Peters.
Abby set her empty cup down and grinned. “I’m ready to order.”
From experience, she knew what would make Markus happy and, therefore, cooperative. “I’ll have an egg white omelet, please.”
“Very good choice.” Markus strode off whistling a happy tune under his breath.
Mitch approached her and smiled. “Did you just order an egg white omelet?”
“I might have.”
“Smart girl. You have no idea how many of those I’ve had to eat in order to make Markus happy. Hannah has introduced heaps of new dishes to the menu. Yet, that’s the one that does the trick. Probably because it was the first new dish she shoved down our throats.”
“Markus must be sentimental.” Abby had heard the story about Markus falling head over heels in love with the new chef and bending over backwards to make her happy and that meant having customers ordering egg white omelets. “So, has anything come to you?”
“No, sorry.”
When Markus brought her order, she had to eat her breakfast before he would answer. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to think of anything new either.
“How about dates? When do you remember Sam Peters coming into town?”
“How is knowing that going to help?” Mitch asked.
“Right now, I have no idea. I’m only collecting information. It might or might not come in handy.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “When did he first show up in Eden?”
The brothers looked at each other.
Mitch narrowed his brows. “Is this a trick question to see if we give you the same answer? I’m sure you already asked us that.”
She probably had but her brain felt like a scrambled mess.
Markus brushed his hand across his chin. “About two years ago, I think. I’ll have to check the records.”
Around the same time Kinsley had shown up. Abby made a mental note to ask her when Sam Peters had appeared at her house. She thought she’d mentioned it, but she couldn’t remember.
“Did he ever talk about himself?”
Both brothers shook their heads.
“Did he ever make a passing remark?” Abby shrugged. “Let’s say, about the weather. Someone complained about it and he might have said something about it not being as bad as fill in the gap.”
“No,” Markus said. “Some men are just quiet. They keep to themselves. He rarely spoke and when he did, he mostly grunted.”
Mitch grinned. “Sounds like someone we know.” His remark earned him an elbow in the ribs followed by a low grumble.
Boys will be boys, Abby thought and checked the time on her cell phone. “I promised Kinsley I’d take breakfast up to her. She wants an egg white omelet, OJ, fruit salad and, of course, coffee.” Sitting back, she closed her eyes and pictured the crime board in her mind. She hadn’t managed to put anything on the wall yet because she didn’t have anything substantial. In fact, she didn’t even know who the real target had been.
Sam Peters?
Kinsley Roberts?
She sent Faith a text reminding her to find out everything she could about Mr. Sam Peters.
“Can you guys be discreet?”
“Does bacon taste good?” Mitch asked. “What do you need?”
“I’m hoping Joshua won’t release the victim’s name yet. Can you send out some feelers? Drop Sam’s name into the conversation. I’d like to know what brought him to town and when. There might be a pattern. You say he did some work for you. He might have spread himself around and worked for other people in the area.”
“Where’s your mind going?” Mitch asked.
“If someone had a reason to want Sam Peters dead, then Kinsley is off the hook and has nothing to be afraid of.” And she could focus on getting her to admit to being the Eden Bloggess.
“People are going to want to know why we’re asking about Sam,” Mitch said.
“You could say someone’s been asking about him.”
Markus gave her one of his rare smiles. “She has a devious mind.”
“Room service.” Abby strode into her apartment and found Kinsley had already settled down on the couch.
They had both agreed it would be best for her to stay out of sight, at least until they had a solid lead to pursue. Even then, it wouldn’t be safe for Kinsley to be out and about. Certainly not while Joyce remained on the warpath and intent on hunting down the so-called Eden Bloggess.
“Thanks for organizing breakfast for me.” Kinsley waved her cell phone. “I’ve been going through my calendar. I’m sure I made a note about the first day Sam showed up.”
“I wanted to ask you about that. It would be good to know.” Abby considered telling her about him doing work for the Faydon brothers but then decided against it because she didn’t want to influence Kinsley’s memory.
Kinsley tapped her cell phone. “Just as I thought. He first showed up two months ago.”
Abby set the breakfast tray down on the coffee table.
According to Markus, Sam had first shown up in Eden two years ago but he’d approached Kingsley only a couple of months before. Great! Now they had gaps to fill.
Abby nibbled the edge of her lip and played around with a stray thought. If Sam had come to Eden in search of Kinsley, then he might have been prepared to bide his time and wait for her to show up in town. That opened up a whole avenue of ideas. Then again, Sam Peters might have been the type to wander around, moving from small town to small town, with no particular aim in mind other than to make ends meet.
“Did you come across him when you first arrived in Eden?” Abby asked.
Kinsley gave it some thought. “I can’t be certain so I’m just going to say, most likely, no. I remember being in a daze at the time. I’ve always lived in the city. Suddenly, here I was, a homeowner in a small town.”
On the one hand, Sam might have been a drifter, Abby thought. Yet, he could also have come to Eden specifically to follow a lead and to keep an eye on Kinsley. The sooner they found out about his background, the sooner they’d be able to find a reason for his trip here.
“What are you thinking?” Kinsley asked.
“I’m wondering what brought Sam to this particular town.” Kinsley had mentioned he’d been trying to fix the carousel. If he knew how to fix it, what sort of skills did he have? “Mechanical skills,” she said out loud.
“Am I supposed to say something?”
Abby shook her head. “Don’t mind me. I’m thinking out loud.” She sent Faith another text, asking for an update and also to remind her to work on getting information about Warren Kinsley. She needed to know if he’d had any other family. With any luck, they might be able to dig up a disgruntled family member… Someone who might have mistaken Sam for Kinsley.
She dove right back inside her mind and drew a circle around Sam’s name, attaching an arrow, she mentally connected it to Warren Kinsley’s name and put a question mark in-between. Faith would have said it looked like a long-shot and Abby would have agreed. So, she went for broke and created a triangle between the three.
When she told Kinsley about her suspicions, Kinsley said, “Needle in a haystack. Worse. It’s like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle without using a picture as a reference point.”
Abby tapped her chin. “Don’t worry. We only need to find a thread and follow it. Meanwhile, we’ll have to knuckle down and grab hold of any idea that comes to mind. They might or might not prove useful but we can work with a process of elimination.”
Kinsley smiled. “For a lifestyle reporter you seem to know your way around an investigation.”
When Abby received a text message from Faith telling her Joyce had stepped out of the café, she gave Kinsley a garbled excuse and nearly tripped over her feet rushing out of the apartment.
Half way to the café, she realized she’d left Doyle behind. The thought made her stumble, stop and pirouette on the spot as she tried to decide if she should go back to get him. Would Doyle even notice she’d left without him? “Probably not.” In the middle of deciding what to do, her cell phone rang. Her voice came out in a growl, “Yes?”
“Why do you sound out of breath?” Joshua asked. “And angry…”
“I’m… trotting. I’ve been sitting around too long so I thought I should get my heart pumping and… well, I’m not fond of exercising.” Abby reached the café and pressed her nose against the window. She saw Faith sipping a coffee, a happy smile on her face. “What’s up, detective?”
“Did you get anything out of Kinsley Roberts last night?” he asked.
“She thinks someone is out to kill her.” Abby waved her hand and tried to catch Belle’s attention. The waitress stood behind the counter chatting with a customer. “Oh, come on. You’re a woman. Multi-task. Look up.”
“What was that?” Joshua asked.
“Can I call you back? I’m sort of in the middle of something important. Oh, hang on. Are you releasing the victim’s name?”
“We’re still trying to locate a next of kin. Can you tell me more about Kinsley’s suspicions? Why does she think someone wants her dead?”
“Off the top of my caffeine deprived mind, I’d say it has something to do with inheriting the house. She didn’t expect it.” When Abby gave him the little information she had about Warren Kinsley, he muttered something under his breath. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Never mind,” he said. “Did that information just fall out of the sky?”
“What information?” Abby asked.
“The name. You didn’t just pluck it out of nowhere. How did you come by the name Warren Kinsley?”
“Oh… Right.” She gave him a brief rundown on how she’d looked up the name and associated it with a circus. “There’s a sign in the stables. It’s partly covered. Didn’t you see it?”
“I guess you’re a step ahead of me, Abby Maguire. It must have something to do with the female mind, always reading between the lines and seeing things that might or might not be there.”
“Did I also mention the victim’s name?”
“Are you waiting for me to beg?”
“Sam Peters.” Abby waved again and tried to get Belle’s attention but she ignored her. “Right. Well… I’m happy to share what I have but right now, I really do need to get going.” Without waiting for his response, she disconnected the call.
