“Could be wrong, but I think he’d welcome it. He didn’t get very far with the sheriff in charge of the investigation. I told him you were different. It’s up to you to prove me right on that.”
His eyes went to the door. “That’s where Kim was going, wasn’t it?”
“Yup. You might want to wait a bit before going to talk to him. This is all new to Kimberly, and I think she kind of needs it right now.”
“Are you saying that you are investigating Ashley’s death?” Callie’s voice held a little hope. “That’s why you’re here?”
“Well, yes. That and to let the kids have a playdate.” I gave her as soft a look as I could. “Tory needs to be around other children. It’s not good for her to be alone with grown-ups all the time.”
Callie gave a little nervous laugh and reached for a tissue to dry her eyes. “Then there really isn’t any need to bring Tory into this, is there?”
Orville looked conflicted. “I can’t lie to you. It might very well come up. But for right this moment, it’s not a top priority for us. Getting justice for Ashley and finding out who killed Vince Riley is.”
I saw the slight blanch when Orville mentioned Riley. But I don’t think Orville caught it. He totally would have, I’m sure, but he’d been watching the kids at the time.
Lucky break for Callie, that.
OUR LITTLE CONVERSATION ended at that. It helped that Nancy chose that precise moment to come in to inform me that baby Pearl needed changing. Funny, Nancy had no problems giving baby Pearl her bottle, burping her, and playing with her. She was a lot like a tiny second, or maybe third, mother to the infant.
But when it came to changing diapers? She pulled the ‘I’m just a kid’ card to get out of it. Not that I blamed her. Especially when the diapers smelled as foul as this one did.
Tory followed me and baby Pearl back into the house, her little nose wrinkled. “Do all babies smell that bad?”
I laughed. “No. And for the most part, baby Pearl smells rather nice. It’s just that, as she can’t walk yet, she can’t make it to the bathroom to do her business.” I patted the diaper. “That’s why she wears these.”
Tory’s head tilted, and she looked over at Callie. “Did I used to wear those too?”
“Yes, you did. And you smelled particularly bad when you filled them with boom-boom too.”
Her little teeth caught her lower lip. “How long before she can walk?”
“I’m afraid she’ll be in diapers for a couple more years at least. But she only smells this bad once or twice a day, I promise.” I really hoped that was a promise I got to keep. Don’t prove me wrong, baby Pearl. Your friendship with an heiress might just depend on it.
As it turned out, Nancy wasn’t the only one with an aversion to smelly diapers... and the changing of them. Big strong man Sheriff Orville Taylor beat a hasty retreat out into the sunroom with the kids. What wimps men could be sometimes.
But it served a good purpose for me. Especially seeing as how he had closed the sliding glass doors behind him. I laid baby Pearl out on the sofa to change her. Lucky for me, Callie had stayed behind.
“You hired Vince Riley to break into my shop, didn’t you?” Even with the doors closed, I kept my voice low.
It was all starting to come together in my mind. Sometimes it took a while. But thinking back to her nervous reaction to me showing up on her doorstep and her obvious relief that all we wanted to talk about was Ashley’s accident? Well, things finally started clicking for me.
There was a moment of silence. I didn’t press her. Sometimes it was better just to throw a hard question like that one out into existence and then simply wait for the answer.
I noticed she glanced at those closed glass doors before she replied.
“You know I can’t answer that, right? If I had a criminal record attached to me, the adoption would fail for sure. So, even if the answer to that were yes, I’d still have to say no. And I’m not saying it should be yes, either.” She paused. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“A bit, yes. But I get the message.” I was taking my time with the diaper changing, taking advantage of the brief window of opportunity it gave us for private conversation. “But hypothetically, if you had hired Vincent, then I would assume that meant you knew about the will. I’m wondering how you found out about it. And, come to think of it, how you seemed to know right where to find it.”
She swallowed. “Well, hypothetically, perhaps Malcolm reached out to me there at the end. Maybe even sent a personal carrier with a message telling me where to find the will after he passed.”
Ah, now that made sense. “I’m surprised he got the message through his personal guards.”
Callie hugged herself. “Yes, well, there at the end, he seemed particularly anxious to put things right. That personal carrier he sent just might have been his personal physician.”
Even more sense.
“I see.”
Her eyes sought out mine. “So what now?”
“I’m pretty sure I know the answer to this, but you know I have to ask it, anyway. And no hypothetical answers to this one, I’m afraid. I need a straight-out answer.” I paused until she nodded. Reluctantly, but she did. “Did you have anything to do with Riley’s death?”
She jerked back like I’d slapped her. “Of course not! He was working for me. Why on earth would I have killed him?”
Then she realized she’d just made the confession to the earlier crime. “Oh, crap. I don’t suppose we can forget that part about working for me?”
I thought for a minute. I had a hard time agreeing to keep secrets from Orville. Besides, he was likely to put it all together the same as I had. Eventually, he’d be coming to it.
“Well, technically, you didn’t say what he was doing for you, now did you? Might be he was trying to go straight as a handyman or something.”
“That’s true. He was...”
“Nope. Don’t even finish that. I’d rather we told each the truth and stuck to hypothetical questions and answers. Makes it easier on me with the sheriff.”
“You two are close, aren’t you? I mean, closer than just friends?”
How did one answer that? I could only think of one way. “Hypothetically, that might be true. However, that’s between the two of us. Don’t you agree?”
She smiled at me. “Somehow it makes me feel just a tiny bit better knowing that I’m not the only one with secrets around here.”
Chapter 20
The rest of the evening was all about the kids. By the time bedtime rolled around—far too early for the kid’s liking, but it was a school night—Mason, Nancy, and Tory were fast friends. Kids are like that. They can form lasting friendships in almost no time at all. Not like us cynical, untrusting adults.
With the extra-long drive to school, morning came far too early. Even for me. Callie surprised me by having a big breakfast waiting for us. Well, it was big by my standards. Callie was apologizing for the lack of selection. With pancakes, scrambled eggs, and biscuits and gravy, I didn’t think there was any need for an apology.
No way could we pass up that tempting smell. Or insult Callie by not eating our fill. But it ran us closer on time getting the kids to school than what I liked. We made it, but barely.
As Kimberly and I sat in the car watching the kids jog into the school building to make it to their classrooms before the last bell, Kimberly turned to me. “What are the plans for today?” She gave a slight shudder. “I can start the cleanup of that backroom if you like.”
“No need. Orville gave me the name of a cleaning outfit that specializes in that kind of thing. He agreed to let them into the shop and check in on them occasionally too. According to him, they are highly trusted and reliable. Said it should just be a one-day job, if that.”
Her shoulders dropped. “Well, that’s good news.” She paused as the kids disappeared into the building, and I started to back the car out of the parking space. “I have a couple more errands to run if you do
n’t mind? I can take Pearl with me today.”
I glanced over at her. “That might be best. I have an errand or two to run on my own.”
That was the Goddess’ own truth, that. Orville was good at his job, and I knew within reason he’d be tracking down the source of that purple paint. Not that we could ever prove anything, what with the evidence now being buried in a huge cube of metal, but still. That angle was covered.
Personally? I kind of thought it was time to go straight to the horse’s mouth. I wanted a talk with Maude.
We got home and went our separate ways. My first duty was taking care of Bridget. That included more than one cracker and quite a few minutes of undivided attention. Her feathers were definitely ruffled. Trust me when I say that you do not want a ticked off familiar.
Just my luck to have a bird with an attitude like Bridget as a gateway to my magic. Not that I had to go through her, of course, but things generally went a lot smoother when I did. Bridget was a very good familiar. At least, when she wasn’t ticked off. Which was at least part of the time.
Once I had her somewhat appeased, I took a deep breath and called the Fontaine’s residence. Imagine my surprise when Maude herself answered the phone.
“Fontaine Residence. Maude Fontaine speaking.”
“Ah, just the woman I wanted to speak with. This is Opal Ravenswind.” I wasn’t trying to be dramatic or anything, or maybe I was just a bit, but I paused after giving her my name. Let her have time to deal with all the implications that a call from me could bring. As I’ve said before, I have a pretty hefty reputation about town. “I was wondering if we might meet for coffee?”
I know it probably wasn’t possible to hear someone swallow over the phone, but I swear that’s what it sounded like.
“I’ve rather been expecting your call,” she said.
Well, that was news to me. I hadn’t even thought of making the call until this morning. And she was expecting it? Now I wanted to talk to her even more than before.
“Why don’t you come over this morning? We can talk here.”
I had to bite my tongue to keep the laugh from getting out. Like that would happen. Someone with a purple car drove Ashley off the road, and someone with an interest in that blasted will killed Vincent Riley. At least those were my suspicions at the moment. No way was I meeting the woman in a place with no witnesses.
I wasn’t born yesterday.
“How’s about we meet at the Flour Pot? I find myself craving one of their raspberry delights.” That was true enough. I craved them most of my waking hours. Today, after the big breakfast I’d eaten, I might even finally limit myself to just one. Wouldn’t that be a record day for me?
She hesitated but finally agreed. “Meet there in say, an hour?”
Sounded good to me. That should be right smack in between the big breakfast rush and the big lunch rush. With any luck, we’d be able to snag a private little table just for the two of us.
We ended the call, and I was left with an hour to kill. The farmhouse was in good shape, thanks to Kimberly’s help, so I decided to be nice and swing by to see Orville. I even made a preemptive stop at the Flour Pot and asked to reserve the most private table in the place for my little meeting. The owner didn’t normally reserve tables, but the two of us went way back. After all, one of his donuts had caused me a world of hurt a while back. Not that he had anything to do with that. Still, it counted.
When I walked into the sheriff’s office with coffee in one hand and a box of Flour Pot’s best donuts in the other, Orville’s eyes lit up. The rest of us might have had the benefit of a big home-cooked meal, but Orville had left at the very crack of dawn. Well, more like an hour before the crack of dawn, if truth be told.
He stood to greet me. “And to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” Then his smile faded. “Please tell me this isn’t the start of a good news, bad news kind of thing.”
I sat the box down on the main table for everyone to share, but handed him the coffee. That was for him alone. I didn’t have enough hands to bring coffee for the entire staff.
“Nothing like that. I had some time to kill, and I had a quick question to ask you.”
Orville nodded, then held up one finger. He grabbed a napkin and took a couple of donuts from the box. Picking up his still steaming coffee, he motioned with his head for me to follow him.
We ended up in an interrogation room of all places. But I got it. His desk was rather front and center out front. They’d offered him an office years ago, but he’d turned it down. He enjoyed being in the thick of things. One of the many reasons he was so good at this.
He sank down onto one of the chairs at the small table and took a big bite from the first donut. With mouth full, he gave a little ‘go on’ motion with his hand.
“Well, you’re the best legal expert I know, and I have a hypothetical question for you.”
He swallowed and took a swig of coffee. “I take it you’d like this question to be off the record?”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “Does that work with law enforcement?”
Orville grinned at me. “No. But people still tend to think if they say ‘off the record’ it protects them or something. It doesn’t. Not here.”
“Good to know.” I paused. I was taking a really big chance here, but in all likely hood, Orville would get there sooner or later in his investigation, anyway. “Hypothetically speaking, if I should decide not to press charges against the person who hired Vince Riley, would that be an option?”
He took two more slow bites before the darn man answered. “You mean you don’t want Callie to go to jail?”
“How long have you known?”
“Probably just as long as you have. She turned rather white when Riley was mentioned. That and with how relieved she was to find out we were there about Ashley. Well, it didn’t exactly take a rocket scientist to figure it out.”
“And the answer to my question?”
“What, no hypothetical tag this time?”
“Just answer me, Orville, or I swear I’ll arrange it that you never eat another Flour Pot donut for as long as you live.”
He held up both hands. “Now, now, don’t get testy.” Then he thought about it. “Could you actually do that?”
I gave him double-arched eyebrows and stayed silent.
“All right, then. That’s good to know.” He paused. “The law is kind of tricky on that one. I mean, hiring someone to commit a crime is a crime in and of itself. As such, there isn’t any actual need for you to press charges. The state and or county generally does that for you.”
As my niece, Amie would say right about now: Crapsnackles.
He held up a finger again. “However, without a signed confession, I really don’t know how we’ll ever be one hundred percent positive who hired Riley. I mean, what with him being dead, we can’t very well ask him, now can we?” Then he looked me dead in the eyes. “That answer totally changes if there’s even a ghost of a chance that she had anything to do with his death.”
“Understood.” Even I wasn’t willing to let a person get by with murder. No matter what the reasoning behind it. That path only led to madness. “But do you really think that will be an issue?”
Orville looked sadly down at his empty napkin. No more donuts. Well, he should have grabbed three while he had the chance. That box would be empty by now.
“No, but I had to stake out the ground rules all the same.”
I nodded. “While we’re in here. You have any luck tracing that purple paint?”
“You do know we’ve only been apart for a few hours, right? These things take time. But I’m working on it.”
Fine by me. He could work his angle, and I could work mine. I was betting mine would yield much faster results.
I had a meeting to attend.
Chapter 21
When I stepped into the Flour Pot, I was ten minutes early. And Maude was already there.
I walked slowly to the table, taking a good look
at her as I did. She was a beauty, there was no denying that. Tall, slender in the right places and full in the places men generally liked their women to be full. Long, golden waves of hair, and bright ice-blue eyes that could stare straight into your soul. And those lips! That just couldn’t be natural.
Well, now that I got a closer look at her, I was very much doubting much of Maude Fontaine was natural at all. I was starting to think the woman was self-made. Too bad. I like my beauty made by the God and Goddess, not some plastic surgeon with a padded bank account.
She stood as I got close and motioned for me to take the other seat. “The owner said you reserved this table for us? That was nice.” She gave a glance around. From the position of the table, if we kept our voices down, we could have a fairly private conversation. Especially as this was non-peak hours for the shop. “I was kind of afraid we wouldn’t really be able to talk. But this should work.”
In fact, there were only three others dining in. Most people got their food and coffee to go. Everyone and their busy, hectic lives. It helped that the Flour Pot didn’t offer free internet access. One of the few coffee shops not to do so. Personally, I liked that fact. Kept the place a lot less crowded.
The owner shocked me by coming to the table to get our order. That wasn’t normal at all. And for once, I didn’t think it was my influence that had him so agreeable. He’d most likely never had an actual Fontaine step through his front door before. He probably saw an untapped opportunity here. That might have been why the table had been so easy to reserve, now that I thought about it.
She waited until we got our coffee, no donuts for either of us, a fact that disappointed the owner to no end. But I needed to cut back, and somehow, looking at Maude, I didn’t think donuts were a normal food for the Fontaines. In fact, it was most likely she didn’t consider them as actual food at all.
It made me kind of pity them. They didn’t know what they were missing. As for me, I’d be taking my one lonely donut to go. I didn’t want anything to distract me for the next few minutes.
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