We showed up a bit early so we could talk to Thelma Sue, who ate there every night, and the waitress Cindy Lou, who knew a lot about a lot, even if she didn't gossip to quite the extent Thelma Sue did. You never could tell what people in Birdwell knew.
As anticipated, Thelma Sue made a beeline for us the moment we came in the door. She slapped a hand on our table before joining us without being invited. "Now, honey, what is goin' on with that family in your house? Killing people everywhere."
I stared at her. "Did someone die while we weren't paying attention? I thought it was just Carl Crowe."
Her mouth pressed. "Don't you think one is enough, Sugar Booger?"
"Please don't ever call me Sugar Booger again."
She glanced at my deadpan face, and breath pushed from her body. "You're not paying any attention to the right stuff, Helen. What is going on with those people? Are they buying your house for real? Are they really starting a factory? Did they really murder someone?"
This wasn't turning out to be the kind of information session I'd hoped for. She was trying to tap us as a source of gossip. Well, crap. She had nothing.
Aodhagan seemed to realize the same thing and pressed his mouth. "They really are building the factory. They already bought the land earlier today. Someone did die, but who knows who killed him, and I have no idea about Helen's house."
"I doubt it, about my house I mean." I shrugged. "They just…aren't the right ones. Plus, who could guess who will be living in it. They'll go back to Dallas I'm sure, and the person they send to run this location might be even worse than they are."
Aodhagan smiled at me very slightly, and I could see that he was trying to suppress it. I wanted to tell him that the choice didn't mean I was staying when another buyer came along. But it wasn't a conversation I wanted to have with Thelma Sue at the table. I also didn't want him to know how tempted I was to be anywhere he was. I was getting weaker, but I still knew I was a terrible choice as a partner. If Aodhagan wasn't secretly a douchebag, I'd make him into one somehow, because that's what I always did. He deserved better. The way he kissed made it hard to remember that argument though.
I turned back to Thelma Sue. "A better buyer will come along. I'm sure of it."
Her expression, like her top, didn't leave a lot to the imagination. She didn't believe I was right about that.
"What have you heard about the Crowes?" Thelma Sue was a good potential source of information that might be floating around town. She always wanted to know the next juicy tidbit. If we wanted anything from her, we would have to make a trade. "I heard Carl was quite the sexual harasser at his office in Dallas."
Thelma Sue brightened at this, and I could tell she considered the information worth a trade. "I heard from one of them Crowe people while they were eating that another company is trying to buy out Crowe Appliances and that oldest Crowe boy was doing everything to stop it. No word on whether the man who owned the place, I think his name was Carl, meant to take the offer."
I glanced at Aodhagan. Well, that was something. It could be that the company that wanted to buy Crowe had killed Carl to get in. It could be that Carl was considering it and someone in his family wanted to stop that. It was a good clue. I just wasn't sure how to get the information about who wanted to buy Crowe and why.
Cindy Lou approached the table, gleaming smile already on her face.
As she saw her approaching, Thelma Sue stood. "No rest for the wicked," she trilled.
Cindy Lou was stupidly beautiful. "I didn't know you were coming in today. What can I get y'all?"
We ordered the safest items on the menu and handed our laminated pages that we didn't need back to her. The fare at the Café never changed. The glass window at the front sported the saying, "Just like your mom used to make." That was absurd for me because my mother didn't make anything. She was a famous celebrity wedding planner. All she did was order catering and hire cooks. And I liked to imagine that if my mother did cook, it would be better than the stuff that the Café offered. It probably wouldn't have been. But I liked to imagine it.
"Cindy Lou, have you heard anything about the Crowe family? The people in my house?"
She glanced around and bit her bottom lip. "He's really nice. James, I mean."
My eyebrows arched. I didn't realize she'd already made friends with a member of the Crowe crew. "Is he?"
She nodded. "This morning he came in, and he was telling me all about their plans for Birdwell. They sound exciting."
Aodhagan nodded, too. "They do. I hope everything goes as planned. Did he talk to you about what happened to Carl Crowe yesterday at the Spring Fest?"
"Not really. He just said it sure was a shame and they were all sad."
"Did he?" I had my doubts that they were all feeling down. I wondered if any of them were, given some of the things I'd heard of late.
She nodded so hard her hair fluttered. "He said they were all crying last night at the house."
Well, if that were true, it made me feel bad. Maybe they were like me, afraid to show any feelings in public and they'd barely held it together until they were alone. If they were, I was sorry to have to question their motivations, but clearly someone wasn't upset that Carl was dead. They'd gone through a lot of trouble to see him that way.
"Did he happen to mention the name of the company that wants to buy Crowe?" I was probably way off base asking her, but it couldn't hurt.
She shook her head. "No, but I can ask him. He's been coming in for every meal."
I was torn whether to have her ask. It could just muddy the water if he was bothered by her asking such pointed questions, or he could freak that we even knew that much.
Aodhagan stepped in. "If you do, make sure you write down the name of the company so we can look it up later."
We heard the bell and glanced up to see Vi entering the Café. I made a shushing face to Cindy Lou, and she nodded, chewing on the end of her pen. Vi brightened when she saw Aodhagan and then scowled when she noticed I was also present. I decided to give them a few minutes alone for him to soften up the prey before I came back. I followed Cindy Lou across the room and ducked into the kitchen, watching Vi and Aodhagan around the doorframe. In another restaurant, I wouldn't have just invited myself into the kitchen. But this was the Home Cooking Café. There was no way that they cared remotely what the local health inspectors might think about me being in the kitchen.
Cindy Lou didn't even bother to ask what I was doing. I watched Vi talk to Aodhagan for a few seconds before sitting down directly across from him. I was surprised she didn't sit next to him. Then she leaned across the table and grabbed both his hands in hers, and I understood that she was playing a different sort of game at the moment. Sympathy was a better card to play than outright seduction. She dabbed at a completely dry eye with a tissue and returned her hand to his. I stood and watched while she spoke more and then was galvanized into returning when she started running her nails softly up his wrist.
I was headed back to the table. For a number of reasons, and I was fully prepared to pretend that jealousy wasn't among them. I slid into the booth next to Aodhagan and smiled at her. She didn't release Aodhagan's wrist for a long moment. When she did, it was with clear reluctance.
"Oh, it's you. I wondered what happened to you last night," she said dully.
"Given your grief, we felt it was best she stay with me and let you all be together as a family," Aodhagan said smoothly.
It sounded good, even if it wasn't entirely the truth. I nodded. "I stayed at Aodhagan's. I recognize you need your space."
Her mouth pressed, but she didn't disagree with the statement. At any rate, it sounded better than "I stayed at Aodhagan's because I know one of you is a killer." I wouldn't say it out loud…anymore. A year ago I might have. I was learning my lessons slowly, as Uber driver Moe had pointed out.
Aodhagan leaned closer across the table. "You are familiar with the fact that I'm the sheriff around here, right?"
I knew he was
planning to ask her some pointed questions or he wouldn't have bothered to tell her at all.
Concern touched her features. "I didn't, no. I guess it doesn't surprise me, though."
He nodded. "Okay, then. Did you know that all of your husband's money was left to a cat shelter?"
I could tell from her expression that she in fact did not know. She wasn't even entirely sure what we were talking about. But she didn't want us to realize that. Finally, she apparently just decided it didn't matter if we had her at some kind of disadvantage. "Why would he do that? He didn't even like cats."
Just as I'd suspected, Carl had reasons for giving his money to Little Beans that had nothing to do with his inherent love of felines and their little paw beans. There were two options. Either Carl hated his family enough that he would have given his money to anyone to avoid them getting it, or Little Beans was just a front for something or someone else and Carl wanted his money to go to the root organization. Little Beans definitely needed to be the next place we looked.
Vi looked like she'd been punched in the face, and it was clear she had no idea how to process the information we'd just given her. The vague guilt was still haunting me. I was beginning to discover that I didn't love being the person who delivered shocking or terrible information to people.
Finally, Vi looked up. "How do you know all this?"
"Because we went up to Dallas today and asked some questions at your corporate office."
If Vi wasn't genuinely shocked, she was doing an excellent job of pretending. "But…why would you do that?"
Aodhagan's eyebrows pulled together. "Because the owner was murdered and the person who killed him is likely someone here in Birdwell right now. I mean, hasn't that occurred to you?"
She looked like it hadn't. What did she think had happened to Carl? It's not like anyone from Birdwell had a reason to kill him. Unless it was Aodhagan, and no one believed that but Connie B.
Finally, I couldn't stand it. "What did you think happened to him?"
She sat still for a long time, and then she shrugged. I was starting to feel bad for Vi. She didn't look like she was doing at all well. I had assumed she didn't care because of her behavior the day before, but I suspected that she was doing her best to ignore the fact Carl was even dead. That was an impressive level of denial.
"I don't know." I could barely hear her voice.
I didn't think she'd killed Carl, and I hated myself a little for it. She was statistically the most likely suspect.
Aodhagan gripped her hands tighter. "We are aware of the prenup. Would you ever have considered divorcing Carl even though you would lose so much?"
She seemed genuinely startled by the question. "Why would I want to divorce Carl? We had an understanding. He wasn't going to live forever, and I ignored his…proclivities, and he pretended to care about me. It was working out just fine, I assure you."
I wasn't sure whether to believe her or not, but there wasn't much we could say to press the issue. There was no evidence, aside from their behavior regarding sexual liaisons, that suggested they weren't both getting exactly what they wanted from their marriage.
"Can you tell us the name of the company that wanted to buy out Crowe Appliances?" Aodhagan asked gently.
She shook her head but then answered anyway. "Hilton-Hill. They're an East Coast company. But surely Carl wouldn't have sold to them."
"He didn't make it clear to you if he meant to sell or not?" I asked, leaning forward.
"I…" Her mouth worked. "He didn't say for sure."
So now we had to look at Carl saying no as a motivation from someone at Hilton-Hill and Carl saying yes as a motivation for someone in the family who didn't want the business to go. "Do you think he wanted to sell?" I asked.
She shrugged, some of her attitude suddenly returning as the shock of being forced to think about reality started to wear off. "I'm sure I don't know. I didn't have much to do with the inner workings of the company."
I wasn't sure whether to believe her or not. Multiple people had told us she didn't do much there, but she also had an office, while Faith didn't.
"But you knew what was happening, didn't you?" I questioned.
Her mouth pressed, but she nodded.
"Did you want him to sell?" Aodhagan asked, his voice still gentle.
She opened her mouth and then shut it again. "I don't know."
It took a lot of restraint not to ask her if there was anything she did know. But I really did feel bad for her, so I kept my big mouth shut. Once again, the influence of Birdwell rearing its head.
She stood suddenly and violently, without any warning. Aodhagan and I both reared back in surprise. "I'm sorry. I need to go."
She basically ran out the door, and I had no idea what to make of her behavior. I still felt like she wasn't the person who had killed Carl, but her behavior was most certainly unusual. It wasn't the way I would expect a grieving widow, or even a normal human being, to act. Though my behavior was often a little left of center and I certainly had been judged for it, so I was going to give Vi a little leeway. Grief was a mixed-up thing. It made people do strange things. Like stay in middle of nowhere tiny Texas towns to try to rebuild the economy.
Aodhagan let out a long breath. "Well, now we need to do a deep check on Little Beans and on Hilton-Hill. I have no idea what's going on right now."
I nodded. "Word."
Little Beans turned out to be a cat sanctuary in Houston, just as had been reported to us. They were ostensibly a 5013c, though we couldn't say for sure without a little more research. Just because a website said something didn't mean it was true. Especially given the mystery around why Carl would have left them so much money. A lot of investigation between Aodhagan, the local lawyer Jamie, and me produced very little information about Little Beans. Online, they said they were a brick and mortar cat sanctuary, housing two hundred and seventeen cats, as well as a source of funding for a variety of other cat sanctuaries. That didn't tell us much. Jamie found it was indeed a 5013c registered to a woman named Lynette Spears. We could find only a little about Lynette Spears as a person. From the few pictures we could find, she was a slender blonde in her late twenties, and there was nothing about her that explained immediately what it was that had attracted Carl to her charity.
She was more than half his age, which seemed to be his primary goal in a mate, but she wasn't made of the same stuff as the people he seemed to choose that we knew about. She had messy hair, no makeup, and her clothes were a little sloppy looking. Acceptable for dealing with an animal shelter, likely less than appealing to Carl. So it probably wasn't Lynette herself that had brought Carl to Little Beans, but it also wasn't cats. I felt pretty confident about that.
Lynette Spears belonged to several community organizations and sat on the board of multiple charities, including her own. She seemed like a nice lady, but I didn't have a clue how that applied to Carl's interest. She lived directly outside of Houston on a farm with the cats, and her bio said all of her time was devoted to the sanctuary. Cats were apparently her day job. She'd graduated from Texas Tech about ten years before.
There were probably only two options for getting to the bottom of Little Beans, and I was very much afraid that the good one involved us getting back on Aodhagan's plane. I didn't want to, so I was willing to call Lynette Spears and see what kind of information I could get. Despite the fact my people skills sucked, I was pretty good at interviewing people. Then again, Aodhagan was more her type. He could probably understand the urge that made a person give up everything to house over two hundred cats. All I could do was picture two hundred Luckys and shudder. In the end, it was decided that we would both speak to her if we could. Neither of us was in the mood to immediately return to the plane and fly to Houston and back. Aodhagan phoned the sanctuary and arranged with Lynette's assistant to speak with Lynette later that night via a video call.
In the meantime, it was necessary for us to try to figure out whatever we could about Hilto
n-Hill, the appliance company that wanted to buy out Crowe. It took about twenty seconds on Jamie's laptop to see that we'd been wrong. All Vi had told us was that Hilton-Hill was an East Coast company that wanted to buy Crowe Appliances. But we'd assumed wrong. Hilton-Hill wasn't an appliance company. Hilton-Hill Holdings bought out large companies from people who either wanted out of their business or those who were weak and floundering, waiting for a shark to come and pull them down. Hilton-Hill was that shark. Crowe wasn't a publicly held company. We couldn't see their finances. But the fact they were building a brand-new factory didn't suggest they were failing.
And that did suggest that Carl had simply wanted out. But if he'd wanted out, why not just give his shares and the head position to members of his family and move on? There was no reason to sell the company. That gave me a whole new round of reasons that someone might have elected to kill Carl. If he sold, the company would be gone, despite all his employees and family had put up with, and all of their stock would be useless, no matter what they did or who they married.
"I wonder if they knew he was thinking about selling—I mean, besides Vi."
Aodhagan's question jolted me out of my deep thoughts. "I don't know. But stopping him from selling would be my priority if I were one of his kids. They stood to lose everything. The company would be gone, and all his liquid assets were going to some freaking cats. That sounds like a good motive for murder to me."
Of course, that was assuming a lot. It was assuming that whoever had killed Carl knew he was both planning to leave his money to a charity and considering selling his business. If I were Carl, I certainly wouldn't have let the others in on that info, but maybe he had. I could see him looking for a way to torture his family and employees at every possible opportunity, probably never considering how appealing that made him as a murder victim.
Aodhagan glanced at his phone. "We better get home and get ready for the call with Lynette." He smiled at Jamie. "Thanks again, man." They fist bumped, and we left Jamie's office, a brownstone building behind the Birdwell Consolidated Schools building. Birdwell Consolidated Schools housed all twelve grades and probably had fifteen classrooms, as well as a lunchroom the size of a garage. Each grade held maybe fifteen to twenty kids, tops. Not surprisingly, there was no one around when we emerged. It was nearly seven at night, and the school wasn't known for its late-night activities. I scanned the scene and saw Connie B. and her cronies standing in the green. They didn't approach us, but their presence reminded me that they were still watching and picturing Aodhagan as a murderer. I decided to ignore them.
All My Exes Live in Texas Page 13
