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Your Goose Is Cooked (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery)

Page 10

by S. Dionne Moore


  Though Regina’s dumpster fell within the cordoned off area, the footpath William used as his exit did not.

  Mentally, I tried to put myself in William’s skin. Here is a man, abused by his father physically and emotionally over a period of many years. He’d also have some abandonment issues going on. In my experience, only the Lord can give peace to a person with those problems. Hardy had struggled for years with his father’s abandonment. I, too, had dealt with the same head drama.

  William might be nothing more than a shy man with an unfortunate past who has learned that standing up for himself gets him ridiculed. His silence, even his preference to ignore people by pretending to be deaf, seemed in keeping with what I knew of his childhood trauma. From an investigator’s point of view, it still would not exempt him from being suspect.

  Since the alley bent at a right angle, conforming to the corner upon which it sat, at least one of those footpaths led out onto the property behind Aidan’s jewelry store. It didn’t take my degree to know his shop would be investigated.

  So William was running into the alley toward Regina’s, fearing being shot from behind. The steps from the landing on which I stood emptied in the direction of Regina’s shop. I eyed what I could see of the footpath, which wasn’t much. Why would someone afraid of being shot not hide right off? Nerves, I guessed. When William’s brain finally kicked in and told him to hide, he’d done so in the one place most people would never consider an option. Regina’s Dumpster had the side rolled open for easier access since she wasn’t real tall.

  “I see the wheels spinning.”

  I started and spun around.

  Chief walked up to me from his spot in the off-limits alley. “You looked deep in thought.”

  “I hope you’re out here doing something besides trying to scare this black woman into cardiac arrest.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry, LaTisha, but I knew by your expression that some theory was spinning madly.”

  I told Chief all about William’s hiding place. He walked over to the Dumpster and stared inside, then back at me. “I’ll call the state and see if they can send someone out. You mind going over to the station and telling Mac to meet me out here?”

  “What am I, your courier service?”

  “No.” I saw the humor in his dark eyes. “You look like a fine, upstanding citizen who has a heart for seeing crooks get their due.”

  “Hardy been giving you lessons in sweet talk?”

  Chief headed back toward the opening of the alley, and though I couldn’t see his police car, I guessed that’s where he’d parked it. “Thanks, LaTisha.”

  Here I get my bunions removed and lose twenty-five pounds and Chief’s acting like I’m in my thirties and can run here and yonder at his direction. That consultation fee he’s talking about paying better be enough to buy me a new pair of shoes. Good shoes. And I had expensive taste.

  Chief’s voice pulled me back. He’d stopped and turned around. “Hey, I’ll be heading over to the Goose to ask William some questions. Do you think breakfast will be over in another hour?”

  “Sure thing. And if not, I’ll shoo them all out.” I slipped back into the restaurant and hustled as fast as I could to that front door, waving and hollering out good mornings as I moved, hoping no one would want to start up a conversation. Lester, seated at his favorite spot at the counter, made me stop cold.

  He didn’t look happy. “Got some news for you, LaTisha. Real interesting stuff.” Lester and I liked to spar, but when he gets serious, it’s usually an issue he’s going to chew on long and hard.

  I detoured his way. “What you got?”

  “Mary heard that Molly had been asked to vacate her spot as Eugene’s treasurer. She’s not too happy about it.”

  “You hold me up for that?”

  Lester wolfed down a bite of eggs. “There’s more. Seems those new guys in town are taking over his campaign.”

  I didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to. Lester read my expression. It’s not that I have a problem with people moving to Maple Gap; I don’t. But people who move in, rarely interact with the citizens, then take on positions in a campaign that determines leadership, um-hm, that I have a problem with. One good thing would come of this shift: Eugene wouldn’t win any new votes when it got out that he had ousted Molly in favor of virtual strangers.

  “You know what you need to be doing?”

  Lester bobbed his head. “Sure. Taking advantage of the news, but how? It’s not like they’re taking jobs away from local citizens or anything.”

  “No, but it stirs up confusion among the citizens. They’ll wonder why he’s using these people and not Molly. That’ll open their ears up to you if they have any loyalty to Maple Gap and decide an alternative to Eugene might not be a bad thing.” I shook my finger in his face. “Which means you’d better stop shoveling food and get to reminding people you’ve got the interest of Maple Gap at heart.”

  His lip formed a pout. “I was planning on going home and taking a nap. I’ve been up since four this morning working over a mother giving birth.”

  “Naptime can wait. Start your campaigning.” I waved my hand over the crowd. “You’ve got a captive audience.”

  Lester shoved his plate back, his mouth set in a determined line. “You’re right. No use rolling over like a pig in mud.”

  “Leave the rolling to Eugene.” I beat feet to the front door again and almost made it when Lester hollered out for everyone to quiet down. Turning, I raised my fist, said “Vote Riley!” and slipped outside into the weak sunshine once again. One glance at the rolling clouds let me know there was another storm brewing over Maple Gap.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I waved as I passed the window to Wig-Out. Regina clipped away at the head of Olivia Blightman, whose mother’s store was across the street from me. I did not want to be looking over that direction. You see, Sasha Blightman knows the bait to lure me in and she always sets it smack in the middle of her front window. And since she’d been dressing that mannequin yesterday, I knew fresh bait had been set. I’d promised myself to do a shopping spree when I hit the fifty-pound mark. Twenty-four more pounds to go. Maybe if I bought the outfit in a size smaller . . .

  Bright Sky Grocery’s doors slipped open, then closed as I passed. The scent of overripe fruit wafted to me and I scratched a mental note to pick up those peaches after my hair appointment. But for now, the police station was my goal.

  Maple Gap’s police station lacked cutting edge equipment and proper staffing, because only so much can be squeezed out of a small-town budget. The wide-planked wood floors, original to the building, rang hollow when someone walked across them, and if you dropped something, you could be sure never to see it again. The cracks between the planks might as well have been a piggy bank for loose coins. No doubt, tearing up that floor would reveal a treasure trove. I grinned. Maybe I’d suggest it to Chief.

  I slowed and took the steps on quiet feet. Unless I missed my guess, Mac was napping in the chair on the other side of the door. With a quick shove, I smacked open the station door. Sure enough, Mac’s arms flailed, the force of the movement sending his chair rolling backwards. Off balance, the chair dipped backward, giving me an eyeful of feet, terror-filled eyes, and windmilling arms. Then, finally, peace.

  “Good morning, Mac.” My voice dripped corn syrup.

  His hands pressed flat on his desk trying to settle his world. He glared. “You did that on purpose.”

  “Sure did.” I let the sunshine fade and got down to business. “Note from the chief. Get down to the alley behind Regina’s real fast, but call in to the state police first.”

  Mac stroked a hand through his hair and scowled at me. “You won’t tell Chief, will you?”

  “Not if you pick up that phone and get to calling.”

  He picked up the phone, hand hovering to dial, when he shot me a look. “Why didn’t he call to tell me that?”

  “Because I just handed him a bit of news that might be crucial to
the investigation. He needs you to get over there and secure a possible secondary crime scene.”

  His eyes went wide. “Someone else get killed?”

  I jammed my hands on my hips. “Don’t be putting words in my mouth. Now make that call.”

  He started to dial. “A man like me deserves a cherry pie putting up with townsfolk like you.”

  “You just get on your knees and pray the new mayor won’t be Eugene Taser, or he’ll squeeze the budget so tight, you might be out a job. There’s not enough cherry pies in the world to soothe that pain.”

  “Is this Mayor Taser’s campaign office?” His eyes glinted at me. “I have a message for him from LaTisha Barnhart.”

  I turned my back, squawking out a good laugh at his antics, and rolled back down Gold Street. I decided to reward myself with a peek in Sasha’s window. One peek. I felt strong. Real strong. Like I could do anything. Take on temptation and grind it under my heel. So when I got there, I took in Sasha’s front window head-on, and there, perched right on top of the mannequins head, was the cutest little hot pink fedora with a tangerine band. Um, and I had just the outfit to pull up everyone’s attention. A tangerine dress with hot pink polka dots. It was right there on that mannequin paired up with that cute little hat. Every ounce of strength squealed out of me like the sound of a squashed whoopee cushion.

  Now a good detective doesn’t get sidetracked easily, but I had a real good excuse because Sasha Blightman, the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, was motioning me inside. Judging by her expression, I don’t think it was a sale she was hoping to make.

  From the side I heard of her phone conversation things weren’t all joy and light. I tuned out, distracted by Sasha’s outfit and the way it draped so nicely over her petite form. I got to say, something about stepping into the shop of a woman who is not only petite and slender, but has the style and class of Ralph Lauren, makes me want to don every girdle I own. Only the love of air, and inhaling it, kept me from following through.

  “LaTisha.” She jabbed a button and slapped the cordless onto the counter. “I just got the most amazing phone call. You know that Aidan fellow they found dead? I agreed to consign earrings for him.” She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes tight. “Sorry, let me start over. I’m so disgusted right now.”

  I waited for her to continue. I was patient. God was probably impressed.

  Her eyes popped open and she took out the glass cleaner and started spraying and wiping the display case. Not that she needed to, but Sasha was a nervous doer, a person who moves around a lot when something’s on her mind. “I sold a bunch of Aidan’s earrings during my sidewalk sale. You know, the one I advertised heavily in that paper in Denver.” She wiped hard at the surface, tore off another paper towel and squirted more cleaner.

  “I just had a call from a lady who took an earring to her jeweler when her husband stepped on the mate and it crumbled. A sapphire! They don’t crumble. The jeweler told her the reason it crumbled is because it was a fake. A real bad fake. What do I do?”

  “Pay her back her money.”

  Sasha waved a hand. “Of course I will, but now that Aidan’s dead I have no way of getting my money back from him.”

  “Honey, if you don’t wind down you’re going to blow your engine and we’re going to have to take you to Lionel’s to get you fixed.”

  She shuddered and crossed her arms as if warding off a chill. “His fingernails aren’t clean.”

  “Not everyone has a job that’s clean. As long as a body makes money to provide for his family, that’s all that matters.”

  “He isn’t married.”

  “Nope, he’s not anymore, but I know for sure and certain that he’s been sweet on you for years now. You want me to set him up for a manicure with Regina?”

  “He’s old!”

  I snorted at that. “Honey, you looked at those crow’s feet lately? Looking more and more like turkey tracks.”

  She didn’t like that none. “Fifty-eight is not old.”

  Time to give her a reality check. “It’s not young either. His favorite is 2 percent milk, though I’ve suggested he drink skim. You feed him eggs and bacon every morning and he’ll be devoted to you for what’s left of your life.”

  “Thanks for the encouragement.”

  I beamed at her. “My pleasure.”

  Sasha toyed with the silk scarf tied artfully at her neck. Her hands drifted toward her showcase. “Fake jewelry.” She eyed me. “Don’t let this out. If Michael Nooseman gets hold of this it will ruin my store.”

  “Then be the first to give him a statement. Apologize and offer a recall and cash back for the earrings you sold.”

  “I can’t afford to give the cash back.”

  “Then offer store credit.”

  “Those were expensive earrings.”

  “They were also fake. Not worth much at all.” I leaned in on her glass counter and opened my eyes wide. “You see here, you have two choices, offer cash back”—a finger went up to underscore the first offer—“or store credit”—my middle finger joined my index. “Those are your solutions. If I were you, I’d ask the chief what steps you can take to secure money from Aidan’s estate, if he had one.”

  She was pale, that’s for sure. I felt bad for her, her standing there with glass cleaner in one hand and a damp rag in the other. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Chief Conrad.”

  I looked over my shoulder at the splendid creation in the window. “You tempting me again?”

  Sasha gave me a secret little smile that erased the lines of strain along her mouth. “Maybe.”

  “Well,” I shoved my hand down into my pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. “They say the best way to rid a body of temptation is to give in to it.”

  It was about time for Chief to arrive at the Goose for William’s interview. With that in mind, I crossed Gold Street, knowing good and well there was a car coming. Pedestrians have the right of way. Cars have brakes. Unless they wanted me as their hood ornament, I knew I was safe. Which is why I didn’t pay much attention to what kind of car it was zipping toward me.

  Subconsciously, I realized this car was not slowing, so I turned, hands on my hips, and glared. The car swerved around me. I got a glimpse of wild red hair and a huddled form behind the wheel. Must have been one of the elderly folk from the town over driving through Maple Gap to Denver. They sometimes liked to stick to the back roads, rather than be intimidated by the highways.

  For good measure, I shook my fist at the person, even though my heart beat wildly at my close call.

  Regina and company streamed out of Wig-Out. One lady wearing the cape around her neck and looking funny with one side of her hair longer than the other. “I saw that, LaTisha!” Janet Garman, the caped lady, stabbed her hands down on her hips and shook her head.

  Regina came to my side. “Are you okay?”

  Even Shiny Portly stomped out of the grocery with a young cashier in his wake. “What was that all about?”

  I broke out in a cold sweat. My armpits producing an ice storm. My legs got weak. Regina, bless that child’s heart, took my arm and led me to a bench at the entrance to the store.

  “Go get her a drink of water,” I heard Shiny tell his employee.

  “You all stop your flappin’, I’m heartier than a hail storm.”

  Regina crouched next to me, “I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.” She got to her feet. “Did you recognize that car, Shiny?”

  “Nope.” He wiped a hand over his bald head. “I just happened to glance up and see a flash of blue swerve around LaTisha. I’d just told Bob to go out and gather up the baskets.”

  The power doors to the store swept open and Bob reappeared. He handed over a little bottle of water. Shiny turned his questions on Bob. “What did you see?”

  Bob shrugged. “It was an old car. Big and blue and the driver had longish red hair.”

  Which is what I had seen myself. Well, minus the big and blue part.

 
; “You need to report this, LaTisha,” Shiny admonished. “Why don’t I have Bob deliver over to the Goose that batch of peaches you’re going to use to reform Lionel? You can guarantee I’ll be over this evening to try some of that cobbler.”

  “I’ll give you an extra helping.” It was the least I could do for his kindness. I took a long pull of water, feeling calmer. “Which reminds me. Did you happen to see Eugene and Betsy Taser come in to your store yesterday?” I was careful not to lead by adding a specific time to the question. If anyone pays attention to his customers, it was Shiny.

  Bob wandered off to collect baskets as Shiny rubbed his fingers over his cheek. “Seems I remember Betsy coming in and complaining about something. I think she was having a hard time finding that antibacterial gel stuff everyone’s so crazy about.”

  “I remember them because he yelled at me,” Bob nested two carts together and pulled a third into line. “I was restocking the shaving cream. That sale is emptying the shelves faster than I can get it up there.”

  So neither of the Tasers were in a good mood. It didn’t seem out of character for either of them. “What did he yell at you for?”

  “I pointed out where the antibacterial wipes were after he griped about us not having any. He apologized and was nice to me after that.”

  Shiny grinned. “Are they being considered for the good citizens award or something?”

  That was a knee-slapper. “I’m sure if he could get away with presenting it to himself, he would.”

  “What’s your take on Aidan getting shot?” Shiny’s bright eyes slipped to mine real sly-like. “It sure is a shame to know peaceful little Maple Gap has had two murders in a little over two years.”

  “If you’re thinking I’m giving you any information, you can forget it. You’re right on the murder stuff, but it’s more than a shame, it’s humans hating humans.”

  Shiny didn’t have the grace to look rebuffed by my rebuke. Instead, he latched on to the second half of my reply. “Things keep right on changing just as they stay the same.”

 

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