Killer Green Tomatoes

by Lynn Cahoon

  As Angie said that, Katherine looked over their way and threw dagger eyes at her. Angie moved closer to Ian and waved. Katherine turned quickly on her heel and disappeared into the chapel area.

  “Now, that wasn’t very friendly of her.” Angie glanced up at Ian, who had a grin on his face.

  “I could say the same for you. You knew what kind of a response you’d get.” Ian kissed the top of her head. “I have to say, I kind of like this clingy Angie.”

  They started to walk into the chapel with the rest of the congregation. “Don’t get used to it, pal, I’m playing a part.”

  “As being my girlfriend or just being clingy?” He motioned her into a pew where Mrs. Potter already sat. He put his hand over his heart. “Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t think my heart could take the letdown if you answered wrong.”

  “Funny boy. I’ll be good.” She patted his leg. “At least until we’re out of here. I don’t want to get struck by lightning or anything.”

  As the preacher gave his sermon, Angie thought about Javier and his lady friend. Had it just been a coincidence that he’d gone home with a woman who clearly wanted to keep her privacy? To the point she used a friend’s condo? Angie could see the advantages. The guy couldn’t stalk her afterward. It was only sex. Probably being open about her sexual habits in a small town like River Vista didn’t earn a girl any brownie points, especially since she was in a high-profile field like marketing.

  On the other hand, if she’d been there to set up the fight between Heather and Javier, she was one cool cucumber. Either way, it was up to Sheriff Brown to find out the real story. She was just the one with the information.

  After the service, Ian walked them to Angie’s car. “You seemed intent on Pastor Tom’s sermon.”

  “What?” Angie paused as she unlocked her car with the remote. “Yeah, he was interesting.”

  “I always enjoy the story about the sheep and the shepherd, don’t you?”

  Angie nodded. “Yeah, that’s one of my favorites.”

  “Too bad he was talking about being fishers of men, then.” He poked her. “You weren’t even listening, were you?”

  “Guilty. I was thinking about Javier and why someone would kill Heather.” She shrugged. “I guess the quiet helped me to focus.”

  He kissed her gently. “My mind tends to wander a bit while Pastor Tom is rambling most Sundays. I’m glad I got to share this with you today.”

  Mrs. Potter spoke as soon as they were alone in the car and Ian was back at his wagon. “You need to make that permanent. Men like him don’t come around often in life.”

  “Ian is amazing. But we’ve only just started to date.” Angie turned up the radio. “Are you starving or should we drive out to the river and sit a bit before we go home and eat?”

  “The river would be nice. It’s not too hot yet.” Mrs. Potter unclipped and clipped her purse. “You don’t believe Erica is going to put me in a home, do you?”

  “I don’t. Erica loves you and she enjoys spending time with you. Besides, you’re doing her a favor since she’s so busy with school. If she had to find a place to stay, she’d probably have to get a job. You’re helping her get a degree.”

  Mrs. Potter stared out the window. “I hadn’t thought about that. I guess I was just too busy with my pity party to look at the reality of the situation.”

  “Erica’s off having fun in Mexico. She’ll be back soon.” Actually, Angie had been thinking the same thing, wondering when her life could go back to normal. She really was going to be struck by lightning, she felt guilty being so selfish. “Besides, it gives us a chance to get to know each other again. I may not be like my Nona, but I’d like for you to consider me a friend.”

  “You are a wonderful woman and your grandmother was always so proud of you.” She stared out the window. “I told her to call you home. When she got bad, I told her you’d want to be here, but she was a stubborn old coot. I guess we all feel like we’re invincible.”

  Angie felt the jab to the gut as she thought about her own guilt in not recognizing the signs of her grandmother’s aging. “I should have realized and come home on my own.”

  “She would have had a fit, put on a show for you, and then sent you back to your life. Margaret wasn’t one to mess with.” Mrs. Potter smiled and patted Angie’s arm. “There’s no use taking on blame for something you didn’t do. We all have enough crosses to bear of our own making. Did you enjoy Ian’s class? He’s been a joy to have in the church family. He’s always so giving.”

  “I’ve noticed that.” Angie pulled the car into the parking lot closer to the river than the canyon hills. Here the walking paths were flat and peppered with lots of places to sit and watch the river flow by. “He seems to be everyone’s favorite person.”

  “If you thinking he’s involved with any of those woman at the church, you’re wrong.” Mrs. Potter unhooked her seat belt. “In fact, I don’t know of anyone he’s dated since he moved here, until you.”

  “I really wasn’t looking for information.” Angie climbed out of the car and met Mrs. Potter on the sidewalk. “I do have some questions about one of the women there. Katherine Elliot? Do you know her?”

  Mrs. Potter made a face. “Only by reputation. The girl’s too busy with her career to do anything but make an appearance now and then at Sunday services. I think the only reason she comes now is to appease her folks. The girl was wild when she was in high school, and I doubt that has changed much.”

  The River Vista community had a long memory. No matter what type of adult you were, your crazy high school days always came back to haunt you. They’d only walked a few feet when Mrs. Potter motioned to the next bench.

  “Let’s sit a bit and talk.” She set and patted the bench. “Now, you’re not concerned about her and Ian, are you? I told you that he wasn’t dating before you. I don’t think he’s the type to try to keep two home fires burning.”

  “No. It’s not about Ian. I just thought I’d met her before, but I guess not.” Angie leaned against the back of the bench and gazed out to the river. Watching the water relaxed her and helped her to think.

  “Of course you’ve met her before. You went to school with her. But her name was different. She went by Katie back then. Katie Huff.”

  “What?” Angie remembered Katie Huff. Queen of the mean girls, she’d never had a kind word to say, especially not to Angie, who was quiet and a bit of a loner. High school was hard enough without the pain of losing your parents the summer before. “Katie Huff was captain of the cheerleader squad. I heard she married the quarterback. Ken…”

  Before Angie could remember the guy’s last name, Mrs. Potter nodded. “Ken Elliot. He was killed a few years later. His motorcycle hit a parked truck one night when he was coming home from Boise. You were probably in California by then.”

  “Wow. That must have been hard to be a widow so young.” Now, instead of remembering how much she’d hated the girl, she felt sorry for the woman.

  “It didn’t seem to set her back much.” Mrs. Potter patted Angie’s hand. “Of course, that was catty and a totally un-Christian thing to say, so if you quote me, I’ll have to disavow I ever said that.”

  Angie laughed and Mrs. Potter joined in. For a few more minutes, they were just friends sitting and chatting. Finally, Angie looked at her watch. “Ready to head back?”

  “I guess.” Mrs. Potter put her face up to the sun, drinking in the heat on her face. “My doctor tells me that sunshine isn’t good for me without pouring on sunscreen, but I love the feel of it on my face. And at my age, I don’t really care. I’ve earned my time in the sun.”

  Angie stood and held out her hand. “What do you think of fried chicken for Sunday dinner? Nona and I usually made a huge Sunday dinner, then warmed up leftovers for supper.”

  “Sounds good to me. I’d love to make a potato salad if you don’t
mind. I haven’t cooked for a few weeks, and I’m feeling an itch to get back into the kitchen.”

  The two of them headed back to the car and back to the house to cook and enjoy a meal.

  * * * *

  Monday morning, Angie had already fed Precious, Mabel, and Dom and was working on transcribing recipes from Nona’s diary before Mrs. Potter emerged from her bedroom. Angie started to stand, but Mrs. Potter waved her back down. “I can get my own coffee, dear.”

  She poured a cup of coffee, then grabbed the pill box Erica had filled and left with Angie before she’d left. She shook out the last set of morning pills, shoved them in her mouth, then sipped the coffee to wash them down.

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Fine. I’m getting used to that guest bedroom of yours. Erica better hurry back or I might not want to leave.” She held up her pill box. “Can you take me over to the house today and help me refill the box for a few days? I think I know all the pills, but they make the lettering on those bottles so tiny, I can’t make out the directions.”

  “Sure, we can go over right after breakfast.” Angie stood and went to refill her own cup. “Although, you know, if we do, Erica will be able to make her flight and be home later today.”

  “I’d like that. I’m missing the girl.” Mrs. Potter reached for a journal Angie had already finished. “What are you doing with your grandmother’s journals?”

  “I’ve been transcribing the recipes. I’m thinking of compiling them into a cookbook. Maybe I’ll do one with recipes I grew up with, then one for recipes I develop for the County Seat. I could sell them out of the dining room.”

  “That would be a lovely tribute. Your grandmother helped me with several of the recipes I just couldn’t make work. You cook a lot like she did.” Mrs. Potter stood. “Do you mind if I make toast? I’m not very hungry this morning.”

  “I could whip up some eggs or a waffle?” Angie studied the woman in front of her. Did she look paler than normal?

  “No, toast is fine. Sometimes my meds mess with my stomach. So I have to eat something, even if, like today, I’m not hungry. You make whatever you want for yourself. I’m good with toast.”

  “If you’re sure?” Angie stood and opened the fridge. If she’d been here alone she would have a piece of that leftover chicken and a sliced tomato for breakfast. She pulled out the chicken. “Last chance.”

  “I’ll have some for lunch. I’m sure you’re going to head into work sometime today.”

  Angie cringed. She really didn’t have to go in, but she wanted to talk to Barb over at the Red Eye about Katherine. “If you’re okay with me leaving, I do have a couple of errands to run.”

  “I’m not a child. You don’t have to babysit me.” As she talked, smoke came from the toaster.

  Angie stepped around her, pulled out the burned bread, and put in fresh, changing the setting from frozen item to bread. “I know I don’t have to babysit, but I don’t want you to be lonely.”

  “I never can figure out that darn toaster. The first one Mr. Potter bought me had one setting. If it wasn’t dark enough, you pushed down the plunger again. This one you have to have an engineering degree to operate.” She sank into a chair. “Despite what just happened, I will be fine in your house alone for a few hours this afternoon.”

  * * * *

  Angie thought about the changes that Mrs. Potter had seen in her lifetime. Nona had told her that she’d gotten her first microwave in the eighties. Now Angie couldn’t see working in a kitchen without one. She hoped Mrs. Potter would be fine, but if something happened, Angie understood. The world was changing too fast for her, and Angie needed to be more patient with her and her actions.

  She parked the car in front of the Red Eye. The street was almost empty. Monday afternoons were always pretty quiet in River Vista. She pushed open the heavy wooden door and, like on her last visit, the darkness of the place enveloped her as she walking into a cloud smelling of old, spilt beer and cigarette smoke. Angie blinked her eyes and finally focused on Barb sitting at the bar, reading a newspaper.

  She walked up and sat next to her. “How do you read in this light?”

  “Years of experience.” She sat the paper down. “Besides, the news is always the same, more roads, more schools, more taxes. I don’t know why I even buy the stupid thing anymore.”

  Angie hadn’t read a paper in years. Not since she’d left Nona’s. “You may want to upgrade and read the news on your phone.”

  “Honey, my phone is hanging up there on the wall. I don’t have one of those computers you young people are so fond of carrying everywhere. If someone needs to talk to me, they know where to find me.” She got up and refilled her coffee.

  She held out a cup, but Angie shook her head. “I’m good.”

  “So why are you here? I’m sure it’s not to have a beer at one thirty on a Monday.” She came around and sat next to her. “Not that I don’t welcome the company. I’ll get a few people in around five and a few tonight, but Mondays are usually pretty slow. People working off the Sunday guilts.”

  Angie pulled out her phone. “I wanted to show you something.”

  Barb waited as Angie found the photo, then she took the phone from her. Squinting, she sighed and reached for a pair of reading glasses. “I can’t see anything without these damn things. Sucks getting older. I had perfect eyesight for years. Now I need these just to write out my checks.”

  The glasses had fake rhinestones on the side. But the circular frames almost looked cute on Barb’s face. “They don’t look that bad.”

  “I bought them at the Walmart over in Meridian. I don’t expect them to be high fashion.” She peered at the picture. “Well, I’ll be.”

  Angie felt the excitement building. “You recognize her?”

  “Definitely. That’s the girl that was all over Javier that night. The one that made Heather so mad.” She peered closer. “Wait, is that the Methodist church foyer? You found this girl in a church?”

  Angie smiled and nodded.

  Barb whistled, “So star girl is a believer. Do you know her name?”

  “Katherine Elliott. She lives in Boise, but her folks live here in town. She went by Katie Huff in high school.”

  “Wait, that’s Katie Huff? She used to sneak in here when I wasn’t bartending. She had a really good fake ID. Finally, I took her picture and put it behind the bar. I heard after that she started driving into Meridian for her fun.” Barb shook her head and put away the glasses. “I guess people don’t really change.”

  After saying her goodbyes, Angie sat in the car and emailed the picture and what she’d found out to Sheriff Brown. She could have gone in the office and showed him, but she didn’t want him doing something like lecturing her on staying out of the investigation. Or worse, taking her phone.

  As she finished, a knock sounded on her window. For the second time in two days, she turned to look into Ian’s eyes.

  “You need to come speak with Allen.” He opened the door and reached for her hand. “He got a call from Mexico.”

  Chapter 16

  Ian hadn’t said anything else but when she asked him what was going on, he shook his head, urging her to walk faster. “I don’t know. I was visiting Allen when the call came in. He wrote a note asking me to go find you. I stepped outside to call you but saw your car.”

  “Erica has to be okay. Mrs. Potter needs her.” Angie pushed away the fear. It could be anything. Like a lost passport. Or a misunderstanding from a language discrepancy.

  When they got into Sheriff Brown’s office, he was off the phone and writing down something. He looked up as the door opened. “Well, that was fast.”

  “She was just down the street.” Ian gently moved Angie into a chair and then sat next to her.

  “Did something happen to Erica?” Angie blurted out the words, hoping to get the bad news quickly. R
ipping the Band-Aid off quickly was the only way she dealt with bad news.

  “They don’t know. They found her passport in the possession of a street thief. They were calling to see if she was actually still in Mexico. Do you have her itinerary?”

  “Of course.” Angie scrolled through her email, looking for one from Erica. “She just called Mrs. Potter Saturday. She was alive on Saturday.”

  “And no one’s saying she’s dead today, just that she doesn’t have her passport in her possession,” Sheriff Brown said quietly. “Don’t jump to conclusions when we don’t know what’s going on yet.”

  “She was supposed to come home today, but she missed her transport from the resort. Maybe we should just try to call her.” Angie’s fingers were shaking so hard it was difficult to type in Sheriff Brown’s email.

  Ian took the phone from her. “Let me help.”

  He finished keying in the email address, then hit send. “What should we do?”

  “We can’t tell Mrs. Potter. Not until we know something definite.” Angie’s eyes went wild. “She’ll be devastated.”

  “Then I suggest you pull yourself together before you go home. You look like someone just died.” Sheriff Brown glanced at his computer screen and found her second email. He opened it, then forwarded it to an address he carefully typed into the address field from a written note from his book. After he sent the email, he turned and studied Angie. “Sorry if that came out a little harsh. Seriously, all we know right now is some lowlife has her passport. Or had. According to the guy who called me, the man isn’t violent, he’s a collector. I’m sure now that we have Erica’s itinerary, we’ll find her safe and sound and get her home.”

  “You’re just saying that to get me to calm down.” Angie tried to take in a breath but she felt like someone was squeezing her lungs. She closed her eyes and started counting to five. One, two, three, four, five, repeating the mantra. Finally the tightness eased and she could breathe. When she opened her eyes, both Sheriff Brown and Ian were watching her closely. “Okay, sorry, I was getting a little panicked there. But Erica’s important to Mrs. Potter. She’s so young.”