Your Goose Is Cooked (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery)

by S. Dionne Moore

  A light tap on my shoulder made me turn. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t Chief Conrad, still in uniform. He got down close to my ear. “I need to talk to you in Pastor’s office.”

  I scanned the congregation as I rose, wondering what was up that Chief felt it necessary to pull me from service. No matter, my mind was too jumpy to concentrate on anything other than what Chief wanted.

  Following him down the aisle, I almost stopped dead when I saw the last pew filled with Maple Gap’s newest citizens, Eddie and Roger. Roger, a dark-haired man, his coloring much like Aidan’s, had a beautiful, thirty-something lady snugged close to his side. He had introduced himself as Roger Hall that first time I’d seen him, months ago. The other man, Eddie Rouser, also had a woman next to him, this one looking more in the forties range. When I’d first met these men and asked their marital status, they had both said they were married, but I’d never seen their wives. Until tonight.

  As I passed, I couldn’t help one more look-see over my shoulder. No Bibles. No notebooks. They weren’t taking part in the little test. No matter, several visitors came to church unprepared, which is one of the reasons we kept spare Bibles in the back.

  I went down the hallway to Pastor’s office and pushed the door open; the scent of coffee hit me full face. Chief stood at the window, his back to the room, Molly sat on the leather sofa. Shutting the door let me see the other side of the room where Mac Simpson stood against a wall, pencil tucked behind his ear, flipping back and forth through his notebook, a cup of steaming coffee on the table beside him. Which explained the serious coffee smell. I shut the door.

  Chief turned. “Thanks for joining us, LaTisha.” He beckoned me to sit next to Molly, I preferred to face her and chose the chair adjacent to the sofa.

  “I know you’ve already heard the rumor about Roger and Eddie joining Eugene’s campaign and Molly being dismissed as treasurer.”

  “Heard it from Lester.”

  Molly sat stiff. Chief gave her a nod and she took up the story. “When I was over at Betsy’s getting caught up on Eugene’s deposits. I saw that some hefty deposits had appeared. I asked Eugene about them, but he said they were transfers from his personal savings.” She stared down at her hands and began cracking her knuckles. “When Roger and Eddie came into the office the other day, Betsy was on their heels. They went right into Eugene’s office. It didn’t take long for them to come out, and I got the impression that Eugene was scared. Nervous.”

  “Were the men rough?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, they were very polite, businesslike. Next thing I knew, Eugene was thanking me for all I’d done and said Roger was taking over as treasurer. They rode with me over to the bank to take my name off the account and put Roger’s on.”

  I leaned forward. “Withdrawals require two signatures?”

  Molly shifted in her seat, seeming a bit more relaxed. “Yes. Eugene’s and mine.” Her eyes drifted to the chief. “At first I was angry and I just wanted to clear out of there as fast as possible. But I kept going over the events in my mind. And Eugene’s face when Roger and Eddie came out of his office—it made me nervous.”

  Chief sat down in Pastor Haudaire’s chair and leaned way back, hands clasped behind his head. “If there’s anything else that you can think of, let me know.”

  Molly stood. “I will. I do feel better having told someone.”

  When the door shut behind her, Chief sat up straight, no more the casual, relaxed it’s-under-control body language. “What do you think?”

  It all spelled troubled, that’s what I thought. “You know those men are out there with their wives right now, don’t you?”

  Mac slapped his notebook shut. “They kept saying they were married. I think it’s a strange time for their wives to show up.” He took a long sip of his coffee.

  Chief rotated the chair to stare out the window, his expression thoughtful. “It’s what I’ve been thinking. And they’ve never been to a service that I know of. It seems odd for them to become so visible when they’ve been so scarce to this point.”

  I rolled Mac’s reasoning around a bit, tacking on Chief’s observation. “It’s almost like they’re trying to put on a show.” I ran my hand down my skirt, throwing out my thoughts. “Convince us they’re normal kind of guys so we won’t dig too deep.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Mac”—Chief got vertical and tucked the chair back under the desk—“I want you to follow those guys. Let me know what they do, who they talk to and where they go.” He turned my way. “One thing before I forget. I got hold of that reporter again, she said she thought for sure the voice leaving the tip on Eugene’s life being in danger was a woman.”

  “A woman?”

  “It doesn’t really matter much. It could have been anyone.” He turned to me. “We on for tonight?”

  I’d almost forgotten about getting over to Aidan’s store.

  It took me fifteen minutes to break through the crowded vestibule in search of Hardy. I grabbed his shirt and tugged him toward a quiet corner. “You see Eddie and Roger?”

  Hardy didn’t answer for a long second. I knew he was scrambling to put the names with the faces. “You mean the new guys?”

  Funny how everyone referred to them as the new guys. Just reinforced the fact that no one really knew them and that they’d made little effort to get to know the citizens of Maple Gap.

  “You got it. Chief sent Mac to keep an eye on them. I want you to do the same.”

  “Why should I follow them if Mac’s gonna do the same? I’m no cop.”

  “Just do it. I’ve got somewhere else to go before we do the Dumpster dive.” I glanced around at the dwindling crowd. “Make sure you change your clothes before you leave here.”

  “Where you headed?”

  “Chief wants me to meet him at Aidan’s jewelry store.”

  “Where will I find you?”

  “If you get back first, go to the Goose and wait there. Now hurry. You might have already missed them with all your gabbing and questions.”

  As I passed Carl Baereum’s funeral home, I noticed lights on in the back room. He must be preparing for his next funeral. I shuddered. It didn’t take much for me to get quivery when I thought of being tucked in that back room with a dead body. I’d have to make a point of getting over to Carl’s in the morning to ask about the fund-raiser and Randy’s internship, before opening the Goose.

  At Aidan’s jewelry store everything remained dark inside and out. I couldn’t believe for a second that I’d gotten there before Chief Conrad, yet his car wasn’t in sight and the dark building spoke its own story. Above the store, Aidan’s apartment sprawled. A small light in one room indicated someone was home, or a light had been left on.

  Interior lights blazed on inside Aidan’s store and I saw Chief through the glass window making his way toward me. He opened the door. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “I noticed there was a light on upstairs. You think Eddie and Roger are home?”

  He led me to the center of the store and stopped. “I doubt it, I haven’t seen Mac yet.”

  I allowed my eyes to skim over the glass cases of the jewelry store. A few watches, a necklace or two, five different bracelets. “He sure doesn’t have much to offer.”

  Fine black powder splotched the surfaces where the police had lifted fingerprints. A sign over the doorway leading to the back room advertised repair service.

  “There’s really not much to see in here.” Chief led the way to the back room, “but there’s plenty here.”

  “You gonna tell me what they found when they went through here?”

  “Nope.”

  “Smart boy,” I pushed by him, giving him a jab in the ribs as I went. “I want to lay eyes on the room and get my own impressions.”

  “If anyone’s going to find something, it’ll be you.”

  I hid my smile as my eyes slid over every detail of the back room. Besides the coating of powder on s
ome surfaces, cords lay in a heap on a desk. At the other end of the room, an old apothecary chest stood across from a line of cabinets. The dusty footprint of a desktop computer let me know what the police had taken. Messy housekeeping had a way of revealing its own secrets. Aidan sure hadn’t gone in much for decorating. I walked to a drawer to the right of the vacant computer spot and raised my eyebrows to the chief.

  “Go ahead.”

  I slid the door open and stared at a shuffle of files.

  “They went through and took some things of interest,” he offered.

  Of course, I knew that. I also knew that Chief wasn’t interested in my take from a policeman’s point of view, not even my opinion as someone with a degree in police science, though that helped mold my impressions. Chief wanted my take from the perspective of a woman who knew people.

  I shoved the drawer shut. Aidan was reclusive. Though not unfriendly. He didn’t make much effort to be around people. I couldn’t say whether or not he spent a lot of time with Eddie and Roger, but since they lived with him, I figured there had to be a lot more interaction with them than there was with any of the other citizens of Maple Gap. “It could be that Roger or Eddie had a reason to shoot Aidan.”

  Chief gave me a poker face. “What leads you to that conclusion?”

  “Doesn’t the Good Book tell us our greatest enemies are often those of our own house? There had to be some interaction between them. They seemed to be good enough friends not to mind rooming together and they all arrived within a few months of each other.” My mind churned backward over the time when Eddie and Roger first showed up in Maple Gap. I’d happened to hear about them coming to town from my daughter Lela, before she’d headed out on her own. Again. Which is another story in itself. Lela said she’d been headed to the library and saw Aidan with two strangers. They’d been tight-lipped after Lela introduced herself, her having her mother’s never-met-a-stranger personality.

  “I tell you, momma, those guys aren’t the type I’d like to see moving into Maple Gap.” At which point, I put an edge on my voice and kindly reminded Lela that she wouldn’t be living in Maple Gap much longer anyhow.

  After this initial contact, and declaring myself a welcoming party of one, I’d thrown together a pan of lasagna and hustled it over there, but only Aidan seemed present, and his excuse was he’d just eaten. I offered the pan, telling him he could warm it up for the next day, but he had politely but firmly said he was a vegetarian, that he hoped I had a good night, and shut the door.

  I did some hard praying about that, asking the good Lord to put a measure of forgiveness in my heart for a man who dared turn down my cooking. Ended up giving the lasagna to Lionel, whose bachelor appreciation for all things home-cooked, put some ice on the fire of my hurt.

  The question remained, why the offishness? Small towns could be cool to new people, the very reason I went out of my way to welcome them, but other than a handful, I couldn’t imagine anyone treating the new guys with anything but kindness. Not that they returned that kindness.

  “You ask me, I think someone needs to take a harder look at Eddie and Roger. If people come to a new town, they usually send out some signals that they want to be part of the community. Neither Aidan, Roger, or Eddie, did that.”

  I moved around the shop a bit more, all my senses doing radar. Chief stood in the doorway, real quiet. Which is just the way I like it.

  I kept working on the puzzle of Eddie’s and Roger. Why move to a new town and not mingle? If one of the guys, even two, had been the quiet, nonsocial type, it might have been easier to swallow. Some folk aren’t driven to seek out others for companionship. But all three of them being like that . . . “You ever run a search on Eddie and Roger?”

  “It’s looking like it would be a good idea.”

  “What about Aidan’s apartment? That was searched, I assume.”

  “We gained access. Both Roger and Eddie had locks on their doors, which didn’t alarm us since we were there to investigate Aidan’s room.”

  I waved a hand. “You notice there aren’t any personal belongings. No pictures of family, no knickknacks. Nothing that spells home.”

  Even the main section of the store lacked decor of any type. White walls, display cases with minimal jewelry. A cash register. “Seems to me like Aidan was playing the part of a jeweler, but either didn’t have much experience or was up to something else.”

  I didn’t look at Chief Conrad as I talked. I just let the words fall where they would. Stream of consciousness. I was thinking hard on this store and the personalities of our new guys.

  I crossed to the solidly built, warm wood of the apothecary’s chest, a treasure Marion Peters would have loved to have displayed in her antique shop. The labels on the fronts of the small drawers had names I didn’t recognize. I yanked open a drawer and found some rocks. Probably jewels that needed buffed, or whatever they did to make gems shine. “He had the regular jeweler type tools, I’m guessing.”

  “He did. We took them as a precaution.”

  In slow degrees, an idea formed in my head. Sasha’s disgruntled customer. A sapphire crushed by a man’s foot. I took one of the stones from the drawer and placed it on the hard, tiled floor. I put my weight on the jewel and ground it under my shoe, feeling it give. Chief and I stared down at the powdery mess, then shared a look.

  “Sasha had a call from one of her clients that the jewelry she sold her, jewelry on consignment from Aidan, had gotten crushed under her husband’s foot.”

  Chief frowned. “We’d come to the conclusion that Aidan’s business was a front for something else. His books indicate large amounts of money, but the amount of inventory he carries—carried—doesn’t back up the money.”

  “You think Aidan was up to no good.”

  Chief crouched to finger the rock debris. “Something isn’t adding up. It’s a mystery within a mystery.” He brushed his hands together and got back up. “What do you think of Dr. Cryer’s accusation against Carl?”

  I took my time answering. Seeing the crushed stone, knowing about Sasha’s client and Dr. Cryer’s necklace both being reported as fakes . . . “But the common denominator isn’t Carl, it’s Aidan. Sasha was selling for him and Dr. Cryer admitted that Aidan had appraised his mother’s necklace at one point.”

  “You’re thinking Aidan made the fake when he appraised it?”

  I let my eyes rove over the apothecary chest, opening and closing a few more drawers. Some were empty. Some were not. “I think we should talk to Carl.”

  Chief raised his eyebrows. “We?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hardy’s Dumpster-diving expedition would have to wait.

  “When I went by earlier, the back light at Carl’s was on,” I informed the chief. Carl’s funeral home had a door that let out onto the alley; his offices were in the back, which explained the light.

  “Maybe he’s working on someone,” Chief said. “Making he’s making his cuts to put in the embalming fluid. That would be interesting to watch.” Every nuance of Chief Conrad’s voice shouted out orneriness.

  My best reaction was no reaction, though my stomach started churning like I’d just downed a quart of tea. And you know what tea makes me do. “Most interesting.”

  “But you’ll remain calm.” I caught his sly glance out of the corner of my eye as we marched down the sidewalk toward Carl’s, but let him keep breathing foolishness. For now. “You’re tough as nails, never let ’em see you sweat, and all that, right?”

  Chief would never let me live down my fainting spell after news of Aidan’s death. I shot him some heat rays. “You poking fun at me?”

  “Would I do that to my number-one detective?”

  “Yes. You’d do it to your own grandmother, and if you’re not careful I’m going to channel her and give you what you deserve.” I reached out and yanked on his ear.

  He let out a holler and rubbed the side of his head. “She wasn’t as strong as you. She was nice too.”

&nb
sp; “Nice gives nice. You be nice to me and stop tormenting, and we’ll have our peace.” I led the way up the steps to the back door of Carl’s funeral home. Chief capped his mirth and trailed me up the steps, not quite hiding a smirk.

  It ran through my mind that Aidan might have been back in the alley doing business with Carl the day he was shot. Or maybe Carl caught him back there and shot him for some reason not known to us. Yet. One problem. Carl’s entrance from the alley was at the mouth of the alley, not deeper into the alley and around the corner, which is where Aidan was found.

  As we passed, I did my best to keep my eyes off the window where the light shone onto the alley blacktop, not sure what I’d see if I looked inside, and not wanting to know. We stood there, caught between the faint light from the window and the stronger light of the street lamp, and waited for the door to creak open.

  Gooseflesh rose on my arms.

  Chief knocked again.

  The glow of light from the window went black.

  My heart throbbed. Chief turned to me and opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words shriveled quick on his tongue. Next thing I knew, he was knocking on that door. Hard.

  “You could feed them the ‘Open up, it’s the police’ line,” I suggested under my breath.

  He sent me a wry smile. “I could, but I have a better idea.” Turning, he motioned me to follow. We headed back toward the entry to the alley and rounded the corner to the sidewalk that led past the Goose, Regina’s shop and the grocery.

  “What’s your plan?” I asked.

  He dug his hands down into his pockets. “I’ll call Carl. Maybe he didn’t hear us.”

  “Seems real strange the light went out when you knocked.”

  We hadn’t gone three paces when the sound of footsteps beat out a warning. We both turned, Chief’s face tense. The streetlight shone onto the figure of a quickly approaching Mac Simpson.

  The tension eased from Chief’s face and he let out a long breath before answering. “It does, but if Carl was in the middle of a procedure, he might not have been able to stop to answer the door. That’s why I’m going to call him and set something up for a chat. I’ll be sure to give you a call.”