Barbecue and a Murder

by Kathleen Suzette

  I headed up to the front register with my hammer and screwdriver set. Jealousy, anger, and alcohol were a bad mix. Amber seemed genuinely broken up over the death of her friend and another finger had been pointed at Ryan. It made me wonder. I was going to have to take a closer look at him.

  Chapter Twelve

  “And, it’s a wrap,” I said and headed to the diner door and locked it behind the last customer. I sighed loudly, my feet aching with each step.

  “My favorite time of the day,” Diane said, filling a rubber tub with dirty dishes from the corner booth.

  “You can say that again,” I agreed and went to the table next to hers and began clearing it. The toddler that had sat there earlier in the afternoon left it looking like she had been using the table top as a finger painting canvas. Ketchup was her favorite color.

  “So, how have things been between you and Georgia lately?” Diane asked as she continued clearing her table.

  I shrugged. “I think Sam must have had a talk with her because she mostly just ignores me these days. And to be honest, it’s kind of refreshing.”

  “I hear you,” Diane said. “I don’t know what’s up with that girl.”

  I didn’t know what was up with Georgia, either. Ever since I had come to work at Sam’s Diner eight months earlier, she had taken a distinct disliking to me. She always seemed to have a nasty word for me. Last month she had asked me to help figure out who killed her uncle, which was surprising to say the least. I had thought that would have made her grateful for the help, but boy was I ever wrong. I was just glad that lately things had been quiet between the two of us.

  The phone in my apron pocket vibrated, and I pulled it out and glanced at it, hoping it was word from the realtor. Sadly, it was just a notification that the payment for my phone contract had gone through. I put the phone back in my pocket and continued descaling the top of the table I was working on.

  “Hey girls,” Sam said, coming out of the kitchen. “Is there any chance we can get out of here in the next twenty minutes or so?”

  We both looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Twenty minutes? I think that’s a big ask, but we will certainly do our best. How come you need to be out that fast?” I asked.

  Sam grinned at us. “Oh, you know, I just have some business to attend to.”

  He headed back into the kitchen without elaborating and I looked over at Diane and raise my eyebrows again. “Sounds like Sam has a hot date.”

  “In the middle the afternoon?” she asked as she began clearing the table faster.

  “You never know,” I said and lugged my own rubber tub full of dirty dishes back to the kitchen. I hoped it was true because I really like Sam and I wanted to see him happy. Getting out of here in twenty minutes was going to be tough, but if we hurried, there was a chance we could do it.

  “Hey, did you hear about Pamela North?” Diane asked me when I returned to the diner floor.

  “Yes. That’s all anyone is talking about these days,” I said and went to another table and began cleaning the surface with a wet dishcloth.

  “I heard those beauty queens can be vicious,” she said with a chuckle, “but I didn’t know they could be murderous. There’s that girl, Chrissy Jones—she dated my son a couple of years ago. I was never so relieved when they broke up. She was always playing mind games with him and he was a basket case when he was with her.”

  “What kind of mind games?” I asked as I moved to the next table.

  “She tried to make him jealous. She’d drop hints all the time about some other boy and it just broke his heart. Adam is a little more sensitive than other boys and he didn’t know how to handle a girl like that. She kept him hopping all the time, buying her gifts just to keep her happy. He was just so thrilled he was dating a girl as pretty as Chrissy is.”

  “It seems those pageants make some girls mean,” I said. Chrissy was still a prime suspect in my mind. After she told me how Pamela sabotaged her during competitions, it made me wonder if she had held a grudge and finally decided to pay her back for the trouble she had caused.

  ***

  It ended up taking us just over thirty minutes to get the diner clean and presentable enough for business in the morning. When I was done, I was beat and needed a pick-me-up, so I headed over to the British Tea and Coffee Company to get a liberal dose of caffeine.

  “There’s nothing like a great big mocha to get me through the afternoon,” I said as Agatha made my coffee.

  “I understand completely,” she said. Agatha was a British transplant and was one of my favorite people in Sparrow. Stopping by to visit with her a couple of times a week made my life far happier. I picked up my drink and headed over to the wall display that held imported British and European candies and chocolates. Another shelf held jars of jams, jellies, and honeys.

  “I got a new shipment of Cadbury in,” Agatha called to me from behind the counter. “The real Cadbury, not the American Cadbury. There’s nothing wrong with the American Cadbury, you understand.”

  I smiled at her. Agatha liked to point out that the American Cadbury wasn’t authentic. She was right, the British Cadbury did taste different, but I liked both of them just fine. I picked up a milk chocolate bar along with a jar of lemon curd. I could use the lemon curd to make something tasty later.

  “I can’t resist,” I said as I set the two items on the counter. “You end up with a good portion of my paycheck every week, you know that, don’t you?”

  She grinned at me and rang up the items. “I noticed that, but it’s better you spend your money on quality items rather than going to a less expensive shop and getting a cheaper quality.”

  I chuckled. “You’ve got a point there,” I said.

  “Let me fix myself a cup of tea and I’ll join you for a few moments at a table,” she said as I ran my debit card through the card reader.

  “Good, I need some gab time,” I said and picked up my treats and took them to a corner table. Agatha loved her job. Interacting with customers was something she looked forward to, but the two of us were friends. I loved being able to come in, relax, and talk to an old friend.

  When she had made her tea, and we got settled in at a table, she looked at me with her eyebrows raised. “Did you hear about the beauty queen?”

  I nodded. “Don’t tell anybody, but the kids and I found her. We were headed out to the river that morning and saw her car off the main road. It was still smoking.”

  She gasped. “Oh, don’t tell me those children saw her?”

  I shook my head and took a sip of my coffee. “No, I kept them far enough away. We saw the smoke as we turned down the dirt road that led to a remote area near the river.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she said stirring her tea. “The poor girl used to come in here fairly frequently, always talking about whatever pageant she was preparing for. She seemed like a nice girl, and pretty as a picture. Any idea on what happened?”

  “Cade said it was murder,” I whispered. I didn’t want to give her any specific details, because even though Agatha was trustworthy, she talked to a lot of people in the course of her job and I didn’t want anything to slip out accidentally.

  “I did hear it was murder,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. “It’s a terrible thing. Everyone said she was going to be the next Miss America. A young life stopped short.” She made a tsk-tsk sound and frowned.

  “It really is sad,” I agreed. “Has anyone mentioned anything specific about her death?”

  “Most people think it was a contestant in the beauty pageant world, but I’ll be honest with you. Her stepmother Sharon North drops in every week or two and we talk some. She really seemed very bitter toward her stepdaughter if you ask me. I hate to think anyone I know could commit a murder, and I certainly don’t want you to think I’m saying that she did it, but she was the first person I thought of when I heard it was murder.”

  I nodded. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut feeling. Sharon did seem to be rather bitter about the
attention her husband showed his daughter. She seemed jealous, and jealousy can lead to bad things.”

  “Yes, I’d have to say if I were going to look at someone, I’d look at her,” she said, stirring her tea.

  I was glad I wasn’t the only one that thought Sharon might be suspicious. Something about her just didn’t sit right with me. I thought I should probably stop in and see how she was doing now that it had been a few days. Edward would probably be home by now and I wondered how he was doing. If he spoiled his daughter as much as Sharon said he did, then he would be crushed by her death, as most parents would be.

  My phone began ringing, and I quickly dug through my purse to find it. When I saw my realtor’s number on the display, my heart skipped a beat.

  “Sorry, Agatha, I’ve got to take this,” I said and answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Rainey. I’ve got great news for you,” Lisa Allen said excitedly. “They’ve accepted your offer.”

  I held the phone away and squealed a little like a schoolgirl. Agatha’s eyes got big as she looked at me and I held up one finger so I could finish the conversation with my realtor. Lisa gave me the details of what would happen next, and then I ended the call, looking at Agatha excitedly.

  “Don’t leave me in anticipation,” Agatha said expectantly. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m going to be a homeowner,” I nearly squealed again. “There’s a cute little cottage on the other side of town. I put in an offer and it’s been accepted.”

  Agatha’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “Oh Rainey, that is excellent news! I’m so excited for you! When will you be moving in?”

  “I really don’t know yet, we have to take care of the escrow and all the paperwork. But, I’m getting a house!”

  I could hardly believe it; I was going to be a homeowner.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It had been a week since the kids and I found Pamela North’s body out on that dirt road near the Snake River and it seemed like everybody had an opinion as to what happened to poor Pamela. Sometimes being a beauty queen could be tough, especially when you ended up being flambéed on a deserted road.

  The one person that kept coming to mind every time I thought about the murder was Pamela’s stepmother, Sharon North.

  So I baked an apple pie and stopped by her house. Baked goods sometimes helped people open up. Sharon answered the door and her eyes opened wide in surprise when she saw me standing on her doorstep.

  “Well, hello Rainey,” she said, taking a step back as she opened the door wider. “I didn’t expect to see you again.” She recovered quickly from her surprise and forced herself to smile.

  “Hello, Sharon. I just couldn’t get you and your husband off my mind. It’s heartbreaking what happened to Pamela, and you had mentioned that her father would be home from his business trip soon. I thought I’d bake a pie and bring it by. I wish I could do more,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic.

  She nodded hesitantly. “Why don’t you come in? Edward is in his study. I’ll get him. I didn’t expect you to come by again, but it’s kind of you to think of us.”

  I followed Sharon through the foyer and into the living room, taking the seat she offered me. I held the pie out to her and she took it from me. “I hope you like apple pie. It’s one of my favorites.”

  Sharon inhaled deeply. “This smells wonderful, what is that spice I smell? It isn’t cinnamon, is it?”

  “It may be the cardamom. I’ve been on a cardamom kick lately, and I’ve been adding it to everything.” I chuckled. I didn’t like anything bland and cardamom was a lovely spice that I had been tucking into baked goods lately.

  “That must be it. I’ll get Edward. Would you like some coffee?” she asked.

  “I would love some coffee,” I said and watched as she headed to the kitchen with the pie.

  I’ll admit there was a part of me that was a little envious of her home. As I looked around, I took in all the textures and colors and I began dreaming about what I would do with my own house. Obviously, I wasn’t going to do anything like what the North’s had done with their huge mansion. The house had a completely different feel to it than my house would. But I did have lots of ideas to restore my little cottage to its former 1950s charm.

  Several minutes later Sharon brought a tray out with coffee, cream, and sugar. “Help yourself to the coffee, and I’ll be right back with Edward.”

  “Thank you so much, Sharon,” I said and poured myself a cup of coffee. I wasn’t going to bother asking for the name of the coffee or where they bought it after what Sharon had said about it the last time I visited. I couldn’t afford it.

  A minute later Sharon was back. She sat across from me and helped herself to a cup of coffee. “He’ll be out in a few minutes. Don’t let him put you off, he’s been in quite the mood since he’s returned,” she warned.

  “Well, I don’t think anyone can blame him,” I said. “After all, his only child was just murdered.”

  Sharon lifted an eyebrow at me. “I suppose you’re right,” she said and poured cream into her cup of coffee. “But Edward’s always a little cantankerous if you want to know the truth. I suppose things will be worse for a while now that Pamela is dead. But, hopefully, in time he’ll get over it.”

  I looked at her wide-eyed. “Get over it?”

  She nodded and added sugar to her cup. “That girl kept him running all the time. Whatever she wanted, he was quick to give and to be perfectly honest with you, I think it was quite stressful for him to deal with her tantrums. When he gets used to the idea that she’s gone, certainly he’ll see that life can be easier,” she said, weighing the words in her last sentence. “Maybe that isn’t coming out right. But you know what I mean.”

  I was stunned once again at her words and I had trouble finding anything to say. “Oh,” I finally managed. “I think losing a child would be terrible for any parent, regardless of if the child was difficult or not.”

  She chuckled. “Yes, of course, you’re right. I don’t mean to seem unkind, it’s just that it seems like a weight has lifted off my shoulders now that she’s gone. Certainly, I never wanted her to die. Honestly, I don’t know why she didn’t start college right after she graduated high school, but she insisted she needed to put all her efforts into preparing for the pageant.” She rolled her eyes and sat back on the sofa across from me.

  I nodded. “I suppose preparing for a pageant must be time consuming.” I had no idea if preparing for a pageant was time consuming or not, I just wasn’t sure how to respond to her. I had never encountered a person as cold about someone’s death as Sharon was.

  “Oh, back in my day it was a lot of work,” she said knowingly. “We didn’t have all the wigs, spray tans, and all the things that make pageants easier these days. And I certainly didn’t have parents that paid for everything, either. I had part-time jobs and paid for my outfits myself, and I did my own makeup and hair.” She laughed again. “Edward put so much money into having a professional do Pamela’s hair and makeup. It was a waste of money if you ask me.” She shook her head in disbelief.

  “I’ve heard it costs a lot of money to do these pageants,” I said and took a sip of my coffee. I couldn’t imagine putting that kind of money into something so temporary. But, if some contestants won scholarships, maybe there was a tradeoff to be considered.

  “I’ll say. Edward has paid thousands of dollars for her gowns alone. Not to mention voice and dance lessons. Why, I bet if he added up all the money that he’s put into those pageants, it would be shocking.”

  I nodded. The total would probably be downright frightening. Sharon was in a talkative mood and I wondered if I could get her to tell me more about what she thought happened to Pamela. Would she inadvertently give herself away?

  “Sharon, do you still think Chrissy Jones is responsible for Pamela’s death?” I had a bad feeling that Sharon knew more about Pamela’s death than she was admitting. She was freely criticizing her husban
d and stepdaughter and I wondered if it was bitterness, or if she was justifying something in her own mind.

  “Oh yes, I think Chrissy had something to do with it. But then it wouldn’t surprise me if her boyfriend, Ryan, had a hand in it. Chrissy and Ryan would make eyes at each other when they were in the same room. Maybe they were both in on it.” She took a sip of her coffee and seemed to be deep in thought about the possibility.

  Before I could ask her anything else, Edward entered the room. Edward was well over 6 feet tall with black hair and a black mustache. He was graying at the temples and was quite handsome. I could see why he had swept Sharon off her feet. But, beneath his good looks, his face was haggard and dark circles formed beneath his eyes. I felt bad for what he was going through.

  I gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “Hello,” he said and nodded at me, sitting beside his wife.

  “Edward, this is Rainey Daye, I used to work for her mother at the florist shop. Remember when I worked there? She’s come to pay her respects.”

  Edward nodded at me again. He wore a mask of pain and it broke my heart. “Mr. North, I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine what you must be going through, but I wanted to let you know that if there’s anything we can do for you, myself or my mother, we would be more than happy to help.”

  He nodded and picked up a coffee cup and filled it. “I still can’t wrap my mind around what happened to my Pamela. She was the light of my life,” he said without looking at me.

  “I can’t imagine how hard this must be,” I said, nodding and wrapping both hands around my coffee cup. “It’s a terrible tragedy and I wish there was something more I could do for you.”

  He looked up at me, his eyes watering. “Why? I don’t think I know you, do I?”

  “No, I don’t think we’ve met before. But Sharon is a family friend, and in Sparrow, I feel like we need to take care of our own. My niece Natalie also knew Pamela from school.” I didn’t bother saying they weren’t close. It didn’t matter. Pamela was part of Sparrow, and if I could help get her killer off the street, I would do it.