Quickly freshening up, I made my way back downstairs. “Love you.” I left.
Back in the fresh air, I debated taking the car versus walking, and walking won. That decided, I turned right and headed toward town. The ornate streetlights, beautiful trees, and graceful, large homes with wide front porches accentuated the look of an old-fashioned village, which it was. I passed my brick storefront office and continued on for another ten minutes before reaching the Iron Skillet. A minute or two late, I was escorted to the table. “You beat me this time. I’m going to blame it on this beautiful fall weather.”
“I haven’t been waiting long. Plus, it gave me a chance to take a look at the menu. This is my first time eating in the dining room. I did sample a few items when I interviewed the chef for my ‘Eat the Town’ article.”
“I’m not sure what she cooked that day, but you’re in for a treat. This is my go-to place for true comfort food.” I pointed at the menu. “My favorite is ‘Grandma Pam’s Meatloaf Extraordinaire,’ but everything else I’ve tried is great too.”
“I’m a meatloaf fan, so I’ll take you up on your suggestion.”
The waitress came and took our order. Rob asked, “Were you able to talk with Cindy and Michael?”
I sighed. “Yes. They’re sweet kids but infuriating. The big secret reason they had to meet was to conspire on colleges.”
“Colleges?”
“Yes. Apparently, it’s true love, and they don’t want to be separated.”
“Ah, to be young again.”
I took a sip of my wine. “When I was young, everything seemed so urgent, so vital.”
“And today?”
“I think age gives perspective.” I smiled ruefully. “Or maybe it’s just the waning hormones.”
He raised an eyebrow. “We’re not that old yet.”
Blushing, I hurried to change the subject. “Both of them said they saw John Gordan hurrying to the rectory. I wonder what was so urgent.”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“I will. I’m having dinner with him on Saturday.”
Rob’s eyes widened. “You just had breakfast with him.”
“That was a week or so ago.”
He leaned forward. “I think you should be careful.”
“Of John? He seems like a nice guy.”
“He’s a nice guy who was seen hurrying to where a murder took place. I care about you and think you should be wary.”
My mouth dropped open. Luckily the server interrupted with our meals.
After a few minutes, Rob said, “You’re right. This meatloaf is terrific!”
“Michael told me one other thing.”
“Really? What?”
“He said he saw you hurrying away from the church.”
Frowning, Rob examined the silverware. “That must have been around four. Mary Lou Turner called to tell me Sam Tuttle had hooked a whopper of a catfish over at the lake. I ran over to get a picture for the paper.” He scrolled through his phone and pulled up the photo from the Facebook page. “Here it is. I didn’t end up running it that day because Ben’s death took precedence.”
“Then how did you end up back at the church? Jenny and I saw you there when we were leaving.”
Sitting back, Rob put his hands up. “I’m starting to feel like I’m being cross-examined.”
“You want me to ask John the same questions. It’s only fair you answer them too.”
He rested his elbows on the table. “Okay. I have nothing to hide. Beth Humphreys, the woman who lives next to the church, called me to say the ambulance and police were there in force. Being the newsman I am, I rushed back in time to catch you and Jenny leaving.” Satisfied, he crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, and smiled. “Any more questions?”
“No, but I reserve the right to ask others if they come up.” I smiled back. “I think we’re done here.”
“Want a ride?”
“No. The night is too beautiful and I ate far too many calories to ride.”
“You’re right. I did too, so I’ll go you one better. I’ll walk you home and then come back for the car.”
We strolled silently for a few minutes, and then I asked, “Do you really think I should be concerned about John?”
“I don’t know, but I think it would be good to err on the side of safety. There seems to be something a bit off about him.”
I jostled him with my elbow. “Sure you’re not jealous?”
“That could contribute to it. But seriously, think about it.” We arrived at my garden gate.
“I will. Thanks for dinner. I enjoyed it.” I gave him a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Me too.” He turned back to the restaurant. “Talk to you tomorrow.”
Heading into the house, I waved at his retreating back. I took out a wine bottle, uncorked it, and pulled out two glasses. He said he cares about me. I shook my head. Don’t read more into it than what’s there. I smiled.
“What’s the smile about?” Patty came into the kitchen.
I jumped. “Crap, you scared me. I almost dropped the glasses!”
“Good thing you weren’t holding the wine. Speaking of which, make yourself useful and pour me a glass.”
Giving her a stern look, I complied. “Living room?”
“Yes, I’m in the mood to sprawl. Where’s Jenny?”
“Upstairs studying. More importantly, how are you doing? What have you heard from the police? You seem a lot more relaxed. ”
“I am. Good news—both Michael and Cindy were cleared. Apparently, two people who were at Mrs. Elderflower’s funeral saw Cindy and Michael on the bench in the cemetery during the time the coroner believes Ben Ford was attacked. That, plus the fact no one saw Cindy with a cut on her hand at the church before she left meant she was telling the truth when she said she tripped over him.”
“That’s great news! I’m so relieved. This calls for a toast. To the police finding the real killer and to Cindy and Michael being cleared.” We clinked glasses.
Patty sank back deep in the sofa and put her feet up on the coffee table. “This wine really hits the spot. Let’s talk about something other than the murder. Which reminds me, did I just see Rob Jenson leaving here? Catch me up on your love life.”
“There is no love life. However, I did meet with Rob a few times to compare notes on the murder we are no longer discussing.” Courvoisier jumped up on my lap and head butted my hand. I petted her.
Patty smiled. “I’m sure that was the only reason.”
“We’re just friends.”
“I thought you weren’t friends with reporters.”
“There’s an exception to every rule.”
She rolled her eyes. “Moving on. What’s going on with John Gordan? Don’t you have a date with him Saturday?”
“I do. And I just learned something very interesting from Nancy Piedmont. She said John was married before and went through a messy divorce.”
“I thought he told you he hadn’t been married.”
“That was the impression he gave me. I’m going to ask him about it when I see him on Saturday.”
“That’s nice.” She snuggled deeper into the couch. “Before I fall asleep, remind me to thank you for investigating for us. Now that Cindy and Michael have been cleared, you can stop and leave it to the police.”
“It’s not that easy. Both Cindy and Michael saw John Gordan hurrying to the rectory that day.”
She laughed. “So? Maybe he was in a rush to talk to Father Tom about an annulment.”
“Not funny. Rob told me to be careful on Saturday. What if the police think John did it? What if he did do it? I’m dating him. Am I setting myself up for failure again?”
Patty sat up and put her hand on my shoulder. “You told Rob you were going on a date with John?”
“Way to focus in on the important stuff. Yes, I told him. I have nothing to hide, and we’re just friends.”
Patty raised her glass and laughed. “First, you need to
trust yourself more, and second, I think you’re fonder of the luscious Mr. Jenson than you’re letting on.”
Chapter 11
While I hurried to put the finishing touches on my makeup, the clock chimed. I wasn’t sure why I even bothered, but I didn’t think Jenny would let me out of the house without it. She had checked in twice already to see how the outfit-picking was going. She also told me she planned on a full inspection before I left. Putting on a quick spritz of perfume, I came out of the bedroom just as the doorbell rang. Jenny answered the door as I strode down the steps.
“Hi, John, I’ll be with you in just a minute.” I ducked into the kitchen to grab my purse and phone. When I joined them, Jenny and John were chatting about how the school year progressed. “Ready to go?”
“Yes. Good speaking with you, Jenny.”
When we got into the car, I asked, “Where are we going?”
“I thought we’d try the new pub, the Screaming Pigeon. It’s not a very appealing name, but I’ve heard the food is good.”
“I think you’re right on the name. It’s not very appetizing.”
“True, but we only live once.”
“What’s new on the house front?”
“The good news is my offer was accepted and the inspection turned out okay. The closing is scheduled for next week.”
“That’s great! From the outside, the house looks like it has good bones.”
“I think it does. I’ll have you over after I close so you can take a look at the inside.”
“I’d enjoy that.”
Almost all of the parking spots were taken at the restaurant, but John found one toward the back by the dumpsters. “Wow. The food must be good,” he said as we entered. “Reservation for Gordan.”
“Follow me.” The hostess took us to a secluded booth.
“Good spot.” I surveyed the wood-heavy, rich, dark décor.
After taking a few moments to look over the menu, we ordered. The waitress brought our wine, and I toasted, “To your new house.”
“It will be nice to get out of temporary housing and get my things out of storage.”
I put my napkin in my lap. “It’s been so long since I’ve moved, yet I still remember the hassle. Plus, it seemed like my possessions grew.”
“They do. I found myself buying things I already had just because I needed them and my stuff was in storage.”
“That’s true. It’s hard to get by without a potato peeler.”
He gave me a strange look.
“If you were Irish, you’d know you can’t go more than two weeks without one.” I smiled. “Or at least I can’t.”
“I’m going to enjoy cooking again versus going out all the time.”
My eyes widened. “You cook?”
“Why the surprise? Men cook.”
“I know that. Some do it quite well. You just didn’t seem the cooking kind.”
“Ah, like Blanche DuBois you thought I got by on the kindness of strangers?” He gestured as if to twirl the mustache ends he did not have.
“No. Actually, I don’t know what I mean.” I took a sip of my wine to regroup. “What’s your favorite thing to cook?”
“It’s a cliché but steak on the grill. I’ll have to make it for you once I’m set up.” He rubbed my arm, his eyes issuing a different type of invitation.
“Works for me. I like to cook, but being cooked for is even better!” I raised my glass to him, and we toasted.
Our meals arrived, and we spent a few moments concentrating on eating.
“My stroganoff is terrific,” I said.
“This corned beef is one of the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“I’ll be putting this restaurant on my ‘visit again’ list.”
“Me too.”
“Speaking of revisiting, John, tell me more about yourself. Where did you grow up, first have your heart broken, that kind of thing.
“I grew up in a small coal-mining town called Clear Creek. Have you heard of it?”
I smiled. “I think I may have heard of it once.”
“It’s one of those ‘don’t blink or you’ll miss it’ kind of places.”
“Everyone must know everyone, kind of like here.”
He grimaced. “True, and that can be both good and bad.”
“How so?” I searched his eyes, sensing the undercurrent of emotion.
“It’s tough to reinvent yourself when the collective town memory is so long.”
I laughed. “It sounds like you may have been a troublemaker when you were younger.”
“Nothing major, just kid stuff. It was more lowered expectations of me based on genetics. Even in small coal towns there is a class system.”
“Where were you on that spectrum?”
“Dead last. Or so it felt to me. I look at how much kids have today, and I remember my childhood where the little we had was from church donations or Goodwill. My dad only worked sporadically. He was a drunk, and my mom ran away to find herself when I was five.”
I rubbed his shoulder. “Was it just you and your dad?”
“Yes. But it’s just me now. His liver finally gave out ten years ago.”
“That’s rough. You’ve done well for yourself. How did you get here?”
“Holing up in the public library for as many hours as it was open, scholarships, and leaving that town for good when I turned eighteen.”
“I’m sorry.” I put my hand back on the table and fidgeted with my water glass.
“Don’t be. My upbringing made me stronger and more resilient. It made me want more for myself and taught me never to settle for less than what I want, no matter what stands in my way.” John stabbed his index finger into the table to emphasize the end of his statement.
I unconsciously shifted back from the table. “Strong words.”
“They’re true, at least for me they are.”
“But you’ve accomplished so much.”
“There’s more to come. I still have goals I’m working on.” He drew back and sipped some water. “That’s my start in life. Now let’s talk about you. Is this the town where you grew up?”
I took a breath to steady myself after such vehemence. “No, I grew up in the town next door. It was more blue-collar then, and even though we didn’t have a lot of money, we were comfortable. As I mentioned before, my dad was the local property and casualty insurance representative, and a lot of people looked up to him. My mom was a travel agent, back when you could do that and make some money. She had an inquisitive, adventurous spirit, and that job meant she could go on lots of great trips for very little money. They’re both gone now, and I miss them tremendously.”
“I envy you your childhood.”
I looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve always felt I was lucky to be so loved. Similar to you, I worked hard for scholarship money so I could go to a good school. I majored in business and psychology, a perfect fit for the business I run now.”
The waiter came back, and we debated ordering desserts. I opted for a decaf cappuccino and John went for the “Heavenly Chocolate Cake.” A smart man, John asked the waiter to bring two forks.
“Where were we?” I asked.
“We were discussing how our schooling matched our career aspirations.”
I smiled. “I guess we really knew what we were doing back when we were sure we didn’t.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I’m pretty driven, and I always have a plan.”
“Good for you. I would refer to my life as part serendipity, part plan, and part genetics.”
“Genetics would have argued against me, which was why I needed to plan.”
I nodded slowly. “What about fun?”
“I do have fun. That can be planned too.”
I barely restrained myself from rolling my eyes. “Let’s agree to disagree on the need for fun to necessarily be a planned activity.”
My coffee and John’s dessert arrived. My willpower was sorely tempted, but I did not immediately go for a f
ork. After noting my intense stare, he kindly invited me to dig in. Holding myself to a few modest bites, I showed great restraint by putting my fork down. “What about your love life?”
“Well, there’s a certain lovely lady with auburn hair and green eyes I’m interested in right now.” He reached his hand across the table to hold mine.
My stomach gave a pleasant tumble. “That’s flattering, but I was referring to previous entanglements.”
“Entanglements? Is that where we’re headed?”
I blushed and carefully withdrew my hand. “To be determined. It’s been terrific getting to know you better, but it’s getting late.”
John asked for the bill and winked. “Next time I’ll cook for you at my new house.”
“Can’t wait to see it.”
Chapter 12
Lying in bed the next morning, I nudged Drambuie from my arm so I could reach my phone. I texted Patty. “Weird night. Time to chat?”
“Later this afternoon?”
“Works. I’ll call you.”
A few moments later, my phone dinged again. Thinking it was Patty, I was surprised to see it was from Rob. I did a double take.
“You home?”
“Yep.”
“Going to church?”
“Thinking ten-thirty service.”
“Mind if I join you? Breakfast on me after.”
“Okay. Meet you out front of the church.”
“See you there.”
What was that all about? I went to Jenny’s room and knocked on the door. “Time to get up sleepyhead.”
“Sleepyhead yourself. I’ve been up for an hour.”
I peeked in. “You win. Leaving for church in forty-five minutes.”
She looked at me in exasperation. “Mom, Cindy and I went to the five-thirty Saturday service so we could study together today. You and I talked about it at lunch yesterday. Don’t you remember?”
I looked down. “Now I do. One day you’ll be as old as me and will have difficulty remembering everything too.”
“Doubtful.”
“Regardless. I’m going to meet Rob at church, and we’re having breakfast afterward, so I probably won’t be home till one.”
She gave me a teasing smile. “I thought we didn’t like reporters.”
Murder So Sinful Page 6
