“Did the boy lose his appointment?”
“Not that I’ve heard of, which is a relief. It would have been a darn shame for one stupid mistake to cost him everything he’d worked so hard for. Besides, if JB doesn’t go to the academy, he might not be able to go to college at all, at least not full time. His younger sister had some serious medical problems last year. She’s fine now, but the family finances took a big hit. His parents wouldn’t be able to send him without some serious financial aid.”
It was easy to see why the boy’s father would have gone ballistic when his son’s future was threatened by a vindictive old woman. “When did all of this happen?”
Bridey counted off several months on her fingers. “It would have been right around Thanksgiving, because I remember the front windows were decorated with fall leaves and turkeys.”
That fit the timeline Abby had been putting together. Clearly Mr. Burton had a good reason to be upset with Dolly, and a far more compelling one than her aunt’s. Not that she believed for one instant that her aunt had stooped to tainting crab dip and making her friends sick just to win votes. By comparison, Dolly had presented a clear threat to the man’s son and the plans he had for his future. If she’d carried out her threat to contact the academy, it could’ve cost the boy dearly.
Abby realized she’d lapsed into an uncomfortably long silence. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to drift off like that. I just can’t help but wonder what really happened to Dolly. Even if she wasn’t the nicest person, she didn’t deserve what happened to her.”
“No, she didn’t.”
Bridey glanced up at the clock. “Oops, I’d better get back to work. The hordes will come pouring through the door any second, not that I’m complaining. Those high school kids contribute more than you’d think to my monthly income.”
Bridey gathered up their empty cups and plates as she prepared to go back to work. Abby followed her over to the counter. “I think I’ll take a tall latte for the road and two of the lemon bars. Tripp has a sweet tooth, and I owe him for offering to send Reilly bouncing down the street.” Although she would have probably bought him a treat anyway. Besides, if she didn’t happen to see him, she loved lemon bars herself.
Before getting into her car, she looked up and down the street one last time in case she spotted Gage. No dice. It was time to give up and go home. At least Bridey had given her a lot to think about. If Gage had known about the fight between JB’s father and Dolly Cayhill, how come he hadn’t mentioned it to her?
Either he knew something about the situation that she didn’t, or he was playing his cards close to his chest. He sure hadn’t hesitated to tell her about the crab dip fiasco, but maybe that was because that confrontation had involved Aunt Sybil directly.
Or since he’d already helped protect the boy and his friends from the possible consequences of their actions, maybe he was doing so again. She mulled that idea over as she drove the short distance back to the house, and finally rejected it. Gage struck her as a man who believed in second chances where they were warranted, but she couldn’t see him allowing someone to skate on a major crime, especially a violent one.
She also knew Gage had been genuinely shocked by the goats’ gruesome discovery, which meant he had no idea Dolly had been missing, much less murdered. That left him off the hook, but not the Burtons. At the moment, they were at the top of her suspect list. Well, actually, right now they were the only ones on it. She refused to include Aunt Sybil’s name, but there had to be other names that should be listed. She just hadn’t discovered them yet. Her gut feeling was that other people had tangled with Dolly at some point.
As she pulled into her driveway, she sat and pondered her next move. Maybe she should contact Gage and ask him if he’d talked to the Burtons about Dolly’s death. No, he wouldn’t appreciate what he’d consider interference in his investigation, especially when all she had to offer was secondhand gossip. There was no way she’d drag Bridey’s name into this. Besides, it wouldn’t be right to further risk messing up the boy’s future plans if he and his father were innocent. Aunt Sybil wouldn’t have wanted Abby to tarnish someone else’s reputation to save hers.
That left only one path forward: one way or another, she needed to talk to JB or his father herself.
Chapter Eight
Abby studied the ragtag stacks of boxes piled all over the garage. She’d already made several trips up to the third floor to carry down the items she’d designated for the sale. Progress was being made, but she had at least two more trips ahead of her before the day was over. She’d picked up Glenda to come help her with pricing, but there was no way she was going to ask her elderly friend to do any heavy lifting. In fact, she was actually more worried about how the group would handle everything that needed to be done on the two days of the upcoming garage sale. It would be less than tactful to ask how they had managed in the past.
Maybe she’d approach the subject from a different direction. “I’m thinking we could use some hired muscle both early Friday and Saturday mornings to get everything set up.” Not that she actually believed it for a minute, but she hastened to add, “I know we could do it all ourselves, but I’m guessing timing is everything. We wouldn’t want potential customers to miss out on all this great stuff because we didn’t get it set out in time.”
Glenda looked up from the table full of books and magazines that she was organizing. “Do you think we could ask Tripp?”
It was hard to miss the hopeful note in her voice, but there was no way Abby was going to ask the man to waste his weekend doing grunt work for the quilting guild. He’d already voluntarily pitched in and helped her lift the heavier boxes, when Glenda and the other ladies weren’t standing around watching his muscles flex. It was bad enough that Abby herself hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off him while he moved things around. She’d done her best to avoid being caught, but she suspected he’d noticed anyway. Maybe all those years he’d spent in the army had given him an uncanny knack for sensing when he was being watched.
Dragging her attention back to Glenda, she said, “Actually, I was wondering if there might be some teenage boys who wouldn’t mind earning some extra cash by helping us set everything out, and then coming back at five when we close down for the day. What do you think?”
When Glenda hesitated, Abby added, “I’d pay them myself since it was my idea. I wouldn’t expect the guild to foot the bill for their services. Since you and Jean are providing lunch for everyone who is working at the sale, this could be my contribution.”
The older woman immediately looked more enthusiastic. No doubt she was worried about anything that might adversely affect the net profits from the sale. The proceeds from the garage sale went to buy materials for the charitable projects the guild members were involved in. She knew they made a bunch of lap quilts to donate to nursing homes. Aunt Sybil had also mentioned making baby blankets and small quilts for the fire and police departments to hand out to children when they responded to emergency calls.
Glenda finally nodded. “I say we go for it. Did you have someone in mind?”
“No, I don’t personally know any of the local kids, but I’m guessing Bridey might be able to suggest some names since her coffee shop is where the high school kids like to hang out after class is done for the day. Better yet, I’m pretty sure Gage Logan could point us in the right direction since he has a daughter about the right age.”
And with any luck, JB Burton’s name would come up, affording Abby the chance to meet the boy and decide for herself if he might have been involved in Dolly’s disappearance. It was a bit underhanded, but it was true they could use the help. If he wasn’t interested in participating, she’d just find another way to cross paths with either him or his father.
She checked the time. “I’ll talk to Gage first. Otherwise, I can ask Bridey. She told me the other day that she has a brief lull right before the kids come pouring in. Maybe she can give my number to anyone who might be interested.”
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br /> “Sounds like a plan. For now, I’ve sorted all the books. What should I do next?”
Abby had been trying to steer Glenda toward jobs that she could do sitting down. “Yeah, here’s a couple things.” She dug out the box of quilt pieces. “Someone donated these, and I was wondering if you recognized the work.”
Glenda studied them. “Not for sure, but it looks like a pattern that two members were working on together. Unfortunately, Betsy lost her husband a few months back and moved out of state to live to be closer to her kids. I’m guessing Kate lost interest in the project. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to set these aside for Jean to look at. She might enjoy making some kids’ quilts out of them.”
“What a great idea. Otherwise, how about organizing the jewelry? I’ve put everything I’ve found so far in that carton over there. I ran across a bunch of small boxes that Aunt Sybil had stored up in the attic and thought we could showcase some of the nicer items in them. I also brought down a couple of jewelry trees she had on her dresser so we can better display a lot of the necklaces and bracelets.”
She set the bag full of little boxes on the table within easy reach of where Glenda was sitting, along with all the jewelry that had been donated. Most of it was inexpensive, but there were also some really nice pieces in the mix.
Glenda dug right in. “In the past, we’ve never worried this much about how everything was laid out, but doing all of this organizing will definitely make it easier for people to find what they’re looking for. I’m betting we’ll have a record year for sales.”
She gave Abby a sly look. “You know, for someone who has never done a garage sale before, you sure have a knack for it. If we do as well as I am thinking we will, you’d better hope word doesn’t get out. We’re not the only group in town that earns a big chunk of their annual budget with a garage sale. I know for a fact that the high school marching band is holding one next month to help pay for the big trip they’re planning to take next fall.”
That was a terrifying idea. Was that what her life would be like here in Snowberry Creek? Organizing one fundraiser after another? The thought left her more than a little queasy. Shoving that scary idea into the darkest recesses of her mind to deal with later, she looked around the garage for something else to do. Nothing called out for her attention. Rather than stand around watching Glenda sort the earrings, she decided to fetch the last few boxes from upstairs.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I have a few more things laid out to donate to the sale. When I’m done, would you like to go get some lunch?”
Glenda’s face lit up. “I’d love a burger and fries at the Creek Café. I know I shouldn’t, but I can always have a salad for dinner tonight to offset all those delicious calories Frannie packs into her cooking. I might even go for broke and have a piece of pie, too.”
Abby laughed. “I’ll try to remain strong, but we both know I’ll succumb to temptation, too. It will take me about fifteen minutes to haul down the last few boxes. Will that give you enough time to finish what you’re doing?”
“Sure thing.”
* * *
Half an hour later, the two of them walked into the Creek Café. All the booths were taken, but a familiar figure was sitting by himself in the far corner. It was tempting to head back there to see if Tripp would mind sharing, but she hesitated. He had a book open on the table, which probably meant he was studying.
Glenda spotted him, too, but Abby managed to block her headlong charge in his direction. “I don’t think we should bother him. It looks like he’s studying.”
The crowded room was understandably noisy, but somehow Tripp heard her anyway. At least she assumed he had, because his head jerked up, and his gaze instantly zeroed in on her. He glanced around the room, sighed, and waved them forward. Glenda was off like a shot. By the time she reached the booth, Tripp had closed his book and pasted a smile on his face, but it only lasted long enough for him to greet Glenda. His look was a bit more frosty when Abby slid into the booth.
“Sorry, Tripp. If you need to study, we can wait until another booth opens up.”
He closed the book and shoved it aside. “No, it’s okay. I have to leave for class soon. Another few minutes of cramming for my test wouldn’t help all that much.”
Glenda seemed content to leave the talking up to Abby and Tripp while she perused the menu.
“What class is the test in?”
“Freshman American History.” He leaned back and stretched his arms across the back of his seat. “I’ve taken a number of college courses over the years, but I’m still having to fill in a few gaps in the general education classes.”
It was a shame he seemed a bit embarrassed by that admission. “I suspect you had more important things to do than freshman level history classes.”
His gaze shifted to stare out of the window beside him. “Seemed so at the time.”
She glanced over to see what had caught his attention, but there was nothing out there on Main Street that would account for the hard edge to his expression. A second later, he shook it off and smiled at Glenda. “So, what are you ladies going to have today?”
“A good question. Are you ready to order, or should I come back?”
Abby jumped. She’d been so intent on Tripp that she hadn’t noticed the waitress’s approach. “No, I’m ready. I’ll have a BLT, a side Caesar salad, and chocolate cream pie.”
Glenda set her menu aside. “I’ll have a burger, fries, and a piece of that peach pie.”
The waitress picked up Tripp’s empty plate. “Can I get you anything else, or do you want me to bring your check?”
Tripp shook his head. “I was trying to be good, but I can’t resist Frannie’s pie. I’ll have a slice of the apple warmed up, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side. I’ll need the check, too, because I have to leave in a few minutes.”
“I’ll put a rush on the pie for you.”
While they waited, Abby tried to think of a safe topic of discussion. Before she came up with anything, Tripp went on point and raised his hand in greeting. His smile was more genuine this time. That had her twisting in her seat to see who had caught his attention. Gage Logan was already headed in their direction, stopping along the way to greet a few of the other diners.
Tripp slid over against the far side of his seat to make room for the police chief. Considering the size of the two men, it was a tight fit.
“I hope you guys don’t mind me joining you. Frannie is doing a brisk business today.”
Abby had been wanting to talk to him for a few days now, but this wasn’t the time or place to interrogate him about the case. It was, however, the perfect time to ask him about any teenage boys who might want to earn a few bucks.
“Actually, I was going to call you later, Gage.”
His friendly expression was quickly replaced by his official lawman one. He dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “I can’t discuss the status of the investigation, Abby.”
She hastened to reassure him. “No, this is something else entirely. The quilting guild is having its annual garage sale this Friday and Saturday at my house. Since you have a daughter in high school, I thought you might know some burly boys who would like to earn a few extra dollars helping us set up early in the morning and then coming back later to help us tear it all down again.”
The brief flash of tension in Gage’s shoulders drained away. “Actually, I can think of several. How many and how much?”
She did some quick calculations in her head. “Three or four should be enough. Fifteen dollars an hour each. Does that seem fair?”
He pulled out his spiral notebook and jotted down a few notes. “Should be. I’ll call them this evening. If they’re interested, I’ll give them your number so you can fill them in on the details.”
“Thanks. That will be a big help.”
Glenda joined the conversation. “I was just telling Abby this morning that I’m betting this will be our best sale ever. She’s done
such a great job with organizing everything, even the advertising. I also warned her that other groups are going to come knocking on her door once they hear about it.”
Abby fought the urge to elbow her friend in the ribs, to remind her that the last thing Abby wanted was to get tangled up in any more projects around town. “Really, it’s been a group effort. I would have been lost without everyone’s help.”
Never one to take a hint, Glenda snorted. “Nonsense, my dear. I’m just amazed at how you’ve managed to pull it all together despite everything that’s happened. I just wish someone would take down that awful yellow tape in your yard. It hurts my heart every time I have to look at it.”
Okay, that was something else Abby had been meaning to ask Gage as soon she managed to catch up with him. Too late now.
He offered the older woman a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s upsetting, Mrs. Unger. The good news is that I’m pretty sure we’re done back there. I’ll check in with the lab one last time as soon as I get back to the office. Unless they object, I’ll stop by on my way home tonight and tear it down. That is, if it’s okay with you, Abby.”
She would be so glad to see the constant reminder of Dolly’s death gone. “That would be great.”
Tripp intervened. “I’m guessing you’ve got better things to do, Gage. Text me if it’s okay to tear it down, and I’ll do it after I get out of class. No use in you going out of your way when I’m already there.”
“If you’re sure.”
Abby wanted to kick her overly helpful tenant. He meant well, but he’d just blown the perfect chance for her to talk to Gage alone. From the slight smirk on Tripp’s face, the big jerk knew exactly what she’d been planning to do.
The waitress arrived with an armload of plates, including a piece of peach pie for Gage. Evidently, he’d given her his order on the way to their booth. He and Tripp quickly devoured their desserts and left together, while she and Glenda dawdled over their meal, neither one in a hurry to get back to the garage.
Glenda toyed with her napkin, folding it into odd shapes. “I probably shouldn’t have put Chief Logan on the spot like that about the crime scene tape, but it really does bother me. I don’t know how you can stand having to look at it all this time.”
Death by Committee Page 8
