He’d danced all around the subject without actually stating her house number. Instead, Reilly had identified the location as the backyard of a large Victorian house on the third block of Tenth Street. He might as well have put a sign in her front yard. Not only that, he’d said that he’d attempted to interview the current owner of the property, but she’d refused to comment on the subject. Abby supposed that was better than reporting she’d slammed the door in his face, but he still managed to make it sound as if she’d had something to hide.
Tripp was back. “How bad is it?”
“Not as bad as it could be, I suppose. He didn’t give out our actual address, but he did name the street and what block we live on. I’m guessing we might get another flurry of gawkers.”
He set her coffee down within easy reach before settling down on the steps with his own cup and a plate containing three muffins. When Zeke perked up enough to give the plate a hopeful look, Tripp laughed and pulled a couple of doggy treats out of his pocket. The dog woofed his gratitude before gulping them down. It didn’t take Tripp much longer to finish off his own breakfast.
“Thanks, that hit the spot.”
“Good. Just leave your dishes. I’ll take them back inside when I go.”
“Okay.” He reached over to pet Zeke one last time and then stood up. “And about any gawkers, I’m guessing there’s not much you can do if they stay out on the street or even the sidewalk. However, if any of them bother you, let Gage know. He promised to have his deputies run off anyone who makes a pest of themselves.”
“I will. I plan to call him anyway to see when I can get rid of all that lovely tape. Once that comes down, there won’t be anything left for people to look at.”
“I’ll be in and out today, but let me know if you need help with that.”
Not for the first time, it hit her how supportive Tripp had been about this whole mess. The poor guy hadn’t signed on to live at ground zero of a murder investigation. Crossing her fingers that he wouldn’t take her up on what she was about to offer, she asked, “I should’ve asked this before now, but do you want out of your lease? I mean, if all of this is interfering with your studies.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Nope, I’m good. On the other hand, if Jean shows up here with another of her tuna casseroles anytime soon, we might revisit the subject. My mother used to make it for us for dinner pretty often, but it never tasted like Jean’s. I don’t know what that woman’s secret ingredient is, but she really should leave it out.”
For the first time all morning, Abby laughed. “I’ll talk to her. At the very least, I’ll take it off your hands as soon as she leaves. Maybe Zeke would like it.”
Tripp put his hand over his heart and staggered back a step. “Tell me you wouldn’t do that to him. I’m pretty sure the animal rights people would be upset, not to mention a certain reporter who would jump all over a story like that.”
“You’re right. No tuna casserole for man or beast.”
“Glad to hear it. Before I go, is there anything new on my chore list?”
“Not that I can think of. By the way, Glenda said all of Sybil’s friends are really pleased to see how good the yard is looking. I promised to pass along their compliments on a job well done.”
He didn’t seem to know how to react. Finally, he went into full retreat, walking away after mumbling, “Thanks, I guess.”
Then he was gone, once again leaving her confused and staring at his back. That man had more moods than anyone else she knew. Chasing after him to apologize for saying he was doing a good job didn’t make any sense, so she turned her attention back to the newspaper article. She read it again, this time more carefully, mining it for specific details and taking notes along the way. Gradually, she developed a bare bones starting point for when Dolly was most likely killed.
She’d been really hoping someone had seen her after Aunt Sybil had died, but no such luck. The reporter hadn’t been able to locate anyone who had spoken to her more than a day or two after the two women had argued at church the day before Christmas Eve. That meant she hadn’t been seen since right after Christmas. That could be significant, or it could just be that she’d been busy packing for her annual trip to the Sunbelt. Had she actually made plans to go? Another question for Gage.
Abby always functioned better when she made lists and kept important events marked on the calendar. After walking away from her job, she’d let that habit slide. Since her divorce and then moving to Snowberry Creek, she’d been content to let one day drift into the next. It was time to get her life organized again, especially now that she was taking on some of Aunt Sybil’s committee responsibilities.
Flipping to a clean page on the notepad, she began writing down questions she wanted to ask about Dolly Cayhill and even a few about her aunt. It didn’t take long to fill the page. Even if she didn’t get answers to all of them, she had a feeling that what she did learn would give direction to any additional lines of inquiry she might discover. If Dolly was on the abrasive side, there had to be other people out there who might have had grudges against the woman. Once Abby learned who they were, she’d figure out what she needed to ask them.
At the top of the list, she wanted to know if her aunt and Dolly had had any further contact after their fight. Even if they hadn’t, had Sybil told any of her close friends how she felt about the encounter? Since Sybil had been elected to head up the quilting guild for the current year, how did Dolly’s supporters feel about that? Did they resent Abby stepping in to serve out her aunt’s term of office? It was hard to guess, but everyone she’d met so far had been really supportive and seemed appreciative of her efforts.
So did that mean Dolly’s supporters had left the group? Those would all be good questions for Glenda, Jean, or even Louise.
Who else had had problems with Dolly? Were the problems long-standing ones or had some new ones cropped up shortly before she disappeared? Gage might be a good source of information on that subject, but she wasn’t sure how much he’d be willing to share with her.
But there was one question that really stood out to Abby: what could a woman like Dolly have done that was so heinous someone would have killed her over it? That was an idea Abby couldn’t even get her head around. Chad had cheated on her, and then tried to steal the business they’d built together by denigrating Abby’s contributions to their joint effort. He destroyed their marriage and stomped on her self-esteem in the process.
But even when the wounds were fresh and things were at their worst between the two of them, she hadn’t wished him dead. Bruised and battered, maybe. Seeing him flat broke and on the verge of living on the street wouldn’t have upset her too much either. But dead? No, her anger and hurt had never reached that level.
But someone had been that angry with Dolly Cayhill, someone who committed a vicious act of violence and then hid the evidence. For months now, the killer had gone on with his or her life, most likely hiding in plain sight among the people of Snowberry Creek. Just knowing that the picturesque town was home to a cold-blooded murderer was enough to send a shiver of fear sliding across Abby’s skin.
She stared in frustration at her long list of unanswered questions. Finally, she realized that she did know one thing for sure. Until someone hunted down the killer and dragged him out of the shadows where he was hiding, no one was really safe.
And although defending her aunt’s reputation was important to her, finding justice for Dolly Cayhill was right up at the top of Abby’s list, too.
Chapter Seven
Abby drove up and down Main Street a few times trying to spot Gage Logan’s car. Earlier, she’d dropped in at the municipal building that housed the mayor’s office, the police department, and the town’s library. She’d used registering for a library card as her main excuse for being there, but also she’d stopped by Mayor McKay’s office to finally set up an appointment with her assistant to go over the duties and expectations for the chair of the Committee on Senior Affairs. On her wa
y out, doing her best to act casual, she’d asked the desk sergeant in the police department if Gage was around.
After informing her that he was out covering a patrol shift for one of the other officers whose wife had gone into labor, the sergeant had asked if he could take a message. He also said if it was urgent, he could call Gage and let him know she was looking for him. Abby had immediately backed away, saying she’d catch up with the police chief when he wasn’t quite so busy.
Frustrated and disappointed over her lack of progress in her self-appointed mission to get answers, she continued to cruise through town, promising herself she’d make one more lap and then go home. Or better yet, she’d stop in at Something’s Brewing and see what marvels Bridey Kyser had created that morning. Bridey, who owned the coffee-shop-slash-bakery, was a true genius when it came to baked goods of all kinds. Lately, she’d been featuring a different flavor of brownies every week.
Abby managed to snag a parking spot half a block away, which she hoped meant her luck was changing. The coffee shop had become the hub of social activity in town, and parking spots anywhere close were often scarce. Stepping inside the shop, she was instantly engulfed in the intoxicating aromas of cinnamon, yeast, coffee, and an intriguing hint of chocolate. Her mouth was watering before she reached the counter. For once, the shop was empty except for one group of older women sitting at a table in the back corner.
As soon as they spotted Abby, they leaned in closer and started whispering while shooting hostile looks in her direction. She was surprised how much their actions hurt her feelings, but she wasn’t about to let it show. It was tempting to stick her tongue out or hold up her hand and wiggle her fingers in greeting. Better yet, she could pull another chair up to their table and join the conversation.
Instead, she took the high road and simply pretended the old gossips didn’t exist. A few seconds later, they gathered up their things and stalked out. One went so far as to sniff in disapproval as she passed by. Abby had no idea who they were and didn’t care to find out.
Bridey had just walked up to take Abby’s order. “Huh, what’s up with them?”
“I’m not actually sure. I’ve never met any of them before that I can remember.” She glanced out the front window to make sure they weren’t still out there glaring at her. “My best guess is that they were friends of Dolly Cayhill. I’ve been warned that a few people think my aunt had something to do with her death and that Tripp helped her.”
Bridey looked genuinely shocked. “Seriously? That’s just crazy. I don’t believe that for a minute, and I can’t understand why anyone else would.”
Abby shrugged. “Me either, but I’m afraid the whispers and rumors will continue until Chief Logan finds the real culprit.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Ever since I heard what happened, I’ve been hoping you’d stop by. I’ve been worried about you, but I didn’t want to intrude.”
Ignoring the burn of tears, Abby managed a wobbly smile. “This whole experience has been pretty awful, but I’m doing all right. Okay, that’s a lie, but I’m doing my best to hang in there.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I just can’t imagine stumbling across something like that.” Bridey shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if chilled. “I hear it was your tenant who actually . . . well, you know.”
“It was. Poor Tripp handled it all so well, while I was a complete mess.”
“Well, who wouldn’t be?” Bridey’s smile was sympathetic. “Besides Tripp, that is. He’s tough enough to handle it. Now, on to a happier subject. What can I get you?”
Abby studied the goodies behind the glass. “One . . . no, two of those brownies and a chai tea sounds good.”
Bridey rang up her order. “I was about to take a break. Mind if I join you?”
Her undemanding company would be welcome. “That would be great.”
Abby took her tea and brownies over to a table in the back, out of sight of the bank of windows across the front of the shop. Intellectually, she knew it was unlikely that a crowd would gather outside just to stare at her. Emotionally, she didn’t want to risk it. It was a relief when Bridey joined her.
“Whew, it feels good to sit down. I have about twenty minutes before the high school lets out, and the afternoon rush begins. Until then, my assistant can handle anyone else who comes in.”
She studied Abby over the rim of her coffee cup. “I’m guessing you didn’t come in just for the brownies.”
There was no use in denying it. “Not exactly, although I do love everything you bake. I was just wondering if you knew Dorothy Cayhill at all. If so, I just thought you might be able to give me your perspective on her.”
Bridey looked as if she’d bitten into a lemon. “I only met the woman a few times, so I can’t claim to have really known her well at all. And to be truthful, I tried to avoid her as much as possible. She came in a time or two with that bunch who just left. I swear, she would look around my shop as if she wanted to put on white gloves and test my counters for dust.”
Abby looked at all the gleaming wood and spotless glass and shook her head. “She wouldn’t have found any.”
“Thank you for that. I do try.” Bridey’s smile faded. “But back to Dolly and her friends. While my customers are entitled to their privacy, sometimes I can’t help but overhear their conversations, especially during quiet moments like this.” She paused to sip her drink. “I also don’t like to speak ill of anyone, but those ladies sure don’t hesitate to do so. I’m not sure anyone in this town lives up to their standards.”
Abby hesitated before trying to nudge Bridey into sharing some details. It probably wasn’t fair to ask her to rat out some of her customers. Still, how was she supposed to figure out who else had had it in for Dolly if she didn’t ask questions?
Maybe a little nudge wouldn’t hurt. “I’d heard that about Dolly myself. That kind of attitude is bound to have rubbed some people the wrong way.”
“I’m sure it did. While I won’t repeat any gossip I happened to overhear, I do know about one case where Dolly really stirred up a hornet’s nest. I saw some of the fallout myself.”
“What happened?”
Bridey studied her over the rim of her coffee cup for a few seconds before answering. “I’m guessing you’ve always lived in or near a big city. Am I right about that?”
Abby nodded as she broke off another bite of her brownie. “Yep. I grew up in Seattle, although I spent time in the Portland area, too. That’s where my father and his second wife live. My ex and I lived east of Lake Washington until the divorce.”
Bridey smiled. “In some ways, life in a small town isn’t all that different than anywhere else, but we do tend to know a lot more about each other’s lives. When something good happens, we all find out about it and celebrate. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true. It’s hard to keep secrets in a town this size. When someone screws up, everybody knows. Stories that wouldn’t rate even a hint of a mention in a major newspaper end up being banner headlines here in town.”
“I’ve already had a taste of that myself. Reilly Molitor came knocking on my door the day after we found the body. He wanted to interview me about finding my aunt’s archrival buried in the backyard. That’s actually how he described Dolly. Anyway, I slammed the door in his face and hid.” To lighten the moment, she added, “In my defense, I was still in my pajamas and rocking some serious bed head.”
Bridey’s eyebrows shot up, her eyes open wide. “And you didn’t want to have your picture plastered on the front page of the Clarion?”
“Not so much.”
Bridey grinned. “I don’t blame you, although I’m surprised he gave up so easily.”
“Actually, he didn’t. Luckily for me, Tripp and Gage Logan were able to convince him to leave.” The memory made Abby smile. “Tripp said he was tempted to toss Reilly out on the street to see how high he’d bounce.”
“Good for him. But back to the story. We have a fair number of veterans livi
ng in and around Snowberry Creek, so it was considered a very big deal when JB Burton Jr., captain of the high school football team and a top student, was accepted by one of the military academies. Two of his friends had also enlisted and are scheduled to report for duty right after they graduate this spring. Anyway, JB and his buddies decided to celebrate. There was beer involved, but there was no indication that JB did any drinking at all. He’s always been a sensible kid, and this was his first brush with trouble.”
She stared down at the table. “The young idiots might have gotten by with it if they hadn’t parked their car, with the stereo cranked up, behind Dolly Cayhill’s place. When she told them she’d called the police, they hopped in the car and took off. Unfortunately, one of the tires blew out and sent the car tearing across a corner of Dolly’s yard, taking out some of her prize roses in the process. Again, the damage was not intentional, but no one could convince her of that.”
Abby could already guess where this story was heading, but she let Bridey tell it at her own pace.
“It was a first offense for all of the boys, which Gage and the judge took into consideration. The judge came down hard on the two boys who had been drinking and ordered them to take a course on the effects of drugs and alcohol. They all got community service rather than being officially charged.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“That’s what we all thought, but Dolly was furious. She told the judge and Gage if they didn’t bring actual charges, she would write the academy herself and tell them about the low caliber of cadet they would be getting.”
“Could that have really kept him from getting into the academy?”
“There’s no way to know. Regardless, JB’s father didn’t take the threat well at all. He confronted her right outside my shop. It was a really ugly scene, and Gage had to intervene.”
Death by Committee Page 7
