Pumpkin Spice & a Body on Ice

by Willow Monroe

  “That’s for sure. Strangulation is up close and personal. It was someone she knew well enough to let get close,” he mused.

  “Someone from the gym?”

  “All accounted for.”

  “Someone from her past?”

  “Not that I could find. No ex-husband, ex-boyfriend or ex-anything.”

  “Ex-girlfriend?” I asked, remember what one of the Lord sisters had mentioned.

  “None.”

  I was quiet.

  “That leaves you and Poppy and Tom Brown. All three of you had means and opportunity,” he explained and we started jogging again.

  “Motive?”

  “That, too.”

  Before I could reply, his cell phone chimed.

  He slowed to a fast walk and dug into his shorts pocket.

  “Whitt,” he answered curtly.

  I fell in behind him, to appear that I was not eavesdropping even though my ears were tuned to every word he said. Of course, the view was mighty nice from this side as well and I wondered why every woman in town wasn’t trailing along behind him.

  He said ‘Uh-huh” a few times and then I heard him say, “Panties?”

  He stopped so abruptly I ran right into him.

  “Starla, I’m sorry,” he said, after ending the call.

  “No, I wasn’t paying attention,” I said.

  “No, I’m sorry I have to cut my run short today. Sounds like a home invasion out on two-fifty,” he explained.

  “That doesn’t sound good. I hope no one got hurt.”

  “No, they’re long gone. So far all the home owner is reporting are panties missing out of the dryer. I’d better go check it out. Since Nadine’s murder, everyone’s been jumping at shadows.”

  “We’re not used to our friends and neighbors getting murdered,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. I vaguely wondered if I should tell him about the other reports of panty theft I’d heard. “Duty calls.”

  “Yeah,” he said walking backward away from me. “Listen, finish your run and we’ll hook up in a couple of days.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, my smile fading as I watched him dash down through the trees. The park parking lot was right below, just barely visible from where I stood. In fact, looking around, I saw that I was surrounded by nothing but trees. None of the usual street noises reached my ears. I might as well have been standing on a path in the middle of a forest.

  I ambled along for a few minutes, thinking about this and giving him time to drive away. And then I made a beeline for the street and home. As I’d promised Poppy, I had research to do after I took a shower. Now, I was sure to add panty thieves to my search list.

  Researching healthy cupcakes soon turned into looking for anything on the internet I could find about Nadine Krump. She had a Facebook page, which was mostly pictures of her working out with her friends and students. I found a blog she’d started and then abandoned. I found some information on her family but this was stuff I already knew. She had been born and raised right here in Sugar Hill. I found a YouTube video of her working out and wondered who was holding the camera. It looked pretty professional.

  After that, I looked around for information on panty thieves. The reports were mostly of young boys caught in the act. Usually it was a prank. Sometimes the thief turned to more serious crimes against women, in some cases escalating to murder. I read about one case up in Canada in particular that held my attention. The culprit was in a position of authority and no one suspected a thing until he killed a woman.

  Could Nadine’s murder and the stolen panties be connected? The thought sent a chill down my spine.

  For some reason, I decided to see what I could find on Police Chief Roby Whitt. It occurred to me that I had no idea where he’d lived or worked before coming to Sugar Hill. And what I found was nothing. Not a Facebook page, not a blog, nothing on his family, not even a photo. It was almost like he didn’t exist before he became our chief of police.

  “Weird,” I said to myself. “You would think there would be something about his training, military background or something.”

  I tried frantically to remember if I’d heard him mention anything about where he was from. The only thing I could remember was that he was from a large city and I thought maybe it was up north.

  I just happened to glance down at my watch and realized I was almost late for my second shift at the diner. Hurrying downstairs, I helped with prep and waited tables, doing everything I could to avoid any discussion of Nadine. By this time everyone knew she had been murdered and everyone had their opinion of who did it.

  Luckily, most of them were on my side. Of course, they were seated in my diner eating so that was a given. One or two agreed that Poppy had a motive, but she was too sweet and kind to kill someone. Most everyone seemed to think it was a stranger. In a small town like this, no one wants to think their neighbor is a murderer.

  Very few people seemed to know about the panty bandit and I certainly wasn’t going to get that started. I only joined in the speculations half-heartedly. My thoughts were on those cupcakes and the puzzle that was Chief Roby Whitt.

  Tom Brown came in at his usual time and barely waved as he seated himself at a booth in the back corner of the diner. That was unusual, but I thought maybe Poppy was going to join him and he wanted to be alone with her. I brought him a menu and a tall glass of sweet tea.

  “Poppy joining you?” I asked, getting a straw out of my apron pocket.

  “No,” he answered, studying the menu even though he probably knew it by heart.

  Evidently Tom was in no mood to talk. Perhaps he really was upset over Nadine’s death or maybe Chief Whitt had questioned him as well. I mean, Poppy had seen him talking to her right before...

  The next thought almost took my breath away and I scurried back to my little office and closed the door. Weak and shaking, I sank into the chair at the desk. What if Tom had killed Nadine? What if Chief Whitt had told him that Poppy had seen them together on the bridge that morning?

  That meant Poppy could be in danger, too.

  Granted, I was most likely over-thinking things here, but I gave Poppy a call. She didn’t pick up so I left a quick message asking her to call me back. And reminded her to stay away from Tom Brown if at all possible.

  The next morning, I was up long before the alarm, searching, searching, searching, all to no avail. Nothing new on Nadine. Still nothing at all on Chief Whitt. The panty robbery wasn’t mentioned in the web edition of the morning paper at all. Frustrated, I went downstairs where Poppy and Gladys were already hard at work. The wonderful aroma of cinnamon and other spices hit me full force, making my stomach growl.

  “What are you making that smells so good?” I asked after giving both my friends a quick hug.

  “Pumpkin spice muffins,” Gladys said. “Thought it might be a nice change from biscuits for some people.

  “Good idea,” I said. “It’s getting to be that time of year.” I knew the heavenly scent of pumpkin and spices would drift up to my apartment for the next few months and that made me happy. Who needed scented candles when I lived over the diner?

  “Yeah, I’m going to make some pumpkin cookies later,” Poppy added.

  “Yummy. I love your pumpkin cookies,” I told her.

  “You’re in an awfully good mood this morning,” Poppy commented when we were alone in the office.

  I shrugged. “I think making the decision to step up to the plate and enter the cupcake competition helped.”

  “And maybe running with our hunky police chief helped a little, too,” she teased.

  Why was I blushing?

  “How’s the research coming along on the recipes?” she asked, serious for a moment.

  “Slow. I mean I can cut out most of the sugar and use applesauce. I can use whole wheat flour or soy flour. I could maybe put blueberries in,” I shrugged, not really sure which direction to go in next.

  “You’ll come up with something, I’m sure,” Poppy said, pa
tted my hand and headed out into the diner and the morning rush.

  Mayor Gillespie ate alone that morning, opting for one of Gladys’s muffins instead of his usual biscuit. I tried to start up a conversation with him but he was in no mood to talk. A lot of that going around. He did say something about how Chief Whitt had some police business to take care of that morning. Tom Brown came in, huddled up in his dark green jacket. He nodded a good morning to Poppy and slid into his usual booth. She and I exchanged glances and I shrugged. Poppy looked worried.

  I grabbed a menu, silverware and a cup and headed for his table. “Mornin’, Tom,” I said cheerily as I poured his coffee.

  “Mornin’,” he grunted.

  It was clear he wasn’t in the mood to talk and I wondered if he really was that upset over Nadine’s death. Maybe they had been closer than we thought.

  Poor Poppy.

  I had just placed the coffee pot back on the burner and checked to see if more orders were up when Chief Whitt and another officer stormed into the diner and marched right up to Tom’s table.

  “Tom Brown,” he said loudly. “You are under arrest for the murder of Nadine Krump.”

  Chapter Nine

  I heard Poppy’s gasp even from where I stood and everything else in the diner went dead quiet. Tom didn’t look surprised, simply stood up and put his hands behind his back while they cuffed him.

  “You’re making a mistake,” I heard him say as they led him out the door.

  After they left, the diner remained quiet, with nothing more than the low hum of whispered conversation. The Lord sisters chatted, glancing around from time to time. Tiffany Samples left almost immediately. Poppy was a wreck.

  “They’ve made a mistake,” she kept saying over and over as I led her to the back office.

  I called Barbara Ellen in early to cover the register and alternated between waiting on customers and checking on Poppy. She sobbed quietly, her head down on the desk and just kept saying over and over that she knew Tom was innocent.

  It looked like the race to win Chief Whitt’s attention for the cupcake competition had suddenly been put on hold.

  By late afternoon, Poppy was curled up on my sofa, having cried herself to sleep. I felt it was safe to leave her alone and returned to the diner. Despite all the craziness that had gone on that day, my thoughts strayed to the cupcake competition. Maybe it was selfish of me. Maybe it was just my brains taking a break from worrying. But it occurred to me that I didn’t have to make blue velvet cupcakes healthier. In fact, I didn’t have to make blue velvet cupcakes at all! What if I made a different kind of cupcake altogether?

  That sent my thoughts spiraling in a totally new direction and I could hardly wait for the diner to close that night.

  Just before dark, when I felt like things were under control, I checked on Poppy. She was awake.

  “Hey, you want to go for a little ride?” I asked.

  “Where to?”

  “Nadine’s house. Maybe a neighbor or someone can give us a clue.”

  “I’m sure the police have talked to all of them,” Poppy said sadly.

  “It never hurts to ask again. Come on,” I said, tugging at her arm.

  Poppy reluctantly followed me down the stairs and out to my car.

  Nadine lived alone in a tidy little house in an older neighborhood on the south side of town. Her little house sat dark and quiet. We pulled up in front and parked on the street. Parking in her driveway seemed kind of intrusive. The street was quiet and empty.

  “We’re not going to find out anything here,” Poppy said.

  “Let’s get out and walk around a bit,” I suggested.

  Once out of the car, we walked around Nadine’s house. The back was pretty much like the front, dark and quiet. I was just about to suggest that we go next door and see if the neighbors would talk to us when a screen door squeaked open and someone called out my name.

  “Starla Cupp? Is that you?”

  “Mrs. Blake?” I asked, surprised to see the elderly lady standing on the back porch of the house next door.

  She laughed softly. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”

  Poppy and I started toward her. She invited us up on the porch and took a seat in a well-worn rocker. I perched on the railing and Poppy stood nearby.

  “I didn’t know this was your neck of the woods,” I confessed.

  She laughed again and pulled her sweater tighter around her. “My daughter doesn’t like me living by myself out in the country so she convinced me to come here and live with her.”

  “How’s that working out?” I asked, remembering how Mrs. Blake loved her space.

  “She’s a good daughter. She means well.”

  “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  Mrs. Blake chuckled “Long enough to know our little town isn’t as safe as it used to be,” she said, looking from me to Poppy.

  “All the more reason for you to be here with her,” I said.

  “To be honest, I think she was getting a little skittish about living alone as well.”

  I had nothing to say to that.

  “Especially after some of her things came up missing.”

  “Things?” I asked.

  “Panties and a bra,” Mrs. Blake said. “Now, who would come into your house and take something like that right out of the dirty clothes hamper?”

  “Maybe she just misplaced them,” I suggested.

  Mrs. Blake shook her gray head. “That’s what I thought. We’ve looked high and low and they’re just gone.”

  “So someone broke into the house...” Poppy began.

  “Until Nadine was murdered, we didn’t bother to lock the doors. Someone could have just walked right in...” She finished with a shrug.

  “Do you think Nadine had the same problem?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

  Mrs. Blake nodded. “She did and started locking her doors, as well.”

  “Did you see anything unusual going on over there before Nadine died? Unusual visitors or anything like that?” I asked.

  Mrs. Blake thought for a minute and then shook her head. “Just the argument she had with Tom Brown the night before she died.”

  Poppy and I exchanged glances. “Argument?”

  “Yes. Nadine wasn’t home but I saw him use his key to go in the back door.”

  Tom Brown had a key to Nadine’s house. That sounded way too cozy for me.

  “She got home right after that and just a few minutes later, he came flying out the back door. She was calling him names and told him that if it happened again, she was going to turn him in.”

  “To the cops?” I asked.

  Mrs. Blake shrugged. “I guess.”

  “What kind of names was she calling him?” Poppy asked.

  “Pervert. Sicko. That kind of stuff.”

  That didn’t sound like the Tom Brown we knew. I glanced at Poppy, who was studying the toe of her shoe. Nadine certainly hadn’t acted like anything was wrong the next morning at the diner. In fact, she’d made it a point to sit with him at breakfast.

  “Mrs. Blake, are you sure it was Tom Brown?” Poppy asked.

  “That’s what I thought was funny about the whole thing. I didn’t see his truck anywhere like when he usually came to visit.”

  “So he walked?”

  “I suppose.”

  “How did you know it was Tom?” I asked, again afraid of the answer.

  “He was wearing that dark green jacket with the hood up. You know, the one he always wears,” Mrs. Blake said. “Lord, I think he even wore it or one like it when you kids were in school.”

  “Did you tell all of this to the police?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, thanks. Mrs. Blake. You’ve been a huge help.” I said, giving her wrinkled old hand a squeeze.

  “You girls be careful,” she said, following us to the edge of the porch.

  “We will,” we assured her.

  “Poppy, I’m sorry you had
to hear that,” I said, once we were in the car and out of Nadine’s neighborhood.

  “Maybe the police did get it right. Maybe there is a side of Tom that no one knows about except Nadine,” she said.

  “And it got her killed?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Poppy said, sounding exhausted. “Will you drop me off at my place?”

  “I don’t want you to be alone...”

  “I’ll be fine,” Poppy said. “I need to be alone right now.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, pulling up in front of her neat little house which was within walking distance of the diner.

  “Yeah,” Poppy said, getting out of my car. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  The diner was already closed down by the time I returned. I headed straight up to my apartment, opened my laptop and Googled Tom Brown’s name. Nothing there I didn’t already know. His excavation company was one of the best in the state, always busy with nothing but good reviews. Likewise, I’d never heard anyone say anything bad about Tom, but I was sure the headlines in the paper the next day were going to be screaming the news of his arrest.

  My head was spinning. I gave up on Tom and Googled pumpkin or sweet potato cupcakes. The recipes were endless and I frowned as I scrolled down through them. Then I remembered that I had Gladys’s pumpkin muffin recipe right downstairs. I dashed down the steps, through the dark kitchen and grabbed it out of the recipe drawer. This is where I would start. I’d already done enough looking to know what I had to do to make it even better.

  Much to my relief, Poppy arrived the next morning, right on time. She seemed a bit quiet but otherwise her usual self.

  “Did you see the paper this morning?” she asked

  “I did,” I answered, my heart breaking for my best friend.

  Tom’s lawyer had advised him not to talk to the police or anyone else.

  “The picture was horrible,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “Do you think he’ll make bail?”

  “Probably,” I said with a reassuring smile.

  Chief Whitt was back in his usual spot the next morning, sipping his herbal tea while he talked quietly with the mayor and waited for his omelet. I overheard them talking about the new fitness program. The police chief didn’t seem nearly as excited about it as I thought he would. Of course the Lord sisters and Tiffany Samples were there in full force and did not miss their chance to stop by and visit with him.