by Lynn Cahoon
“I know. My board’s lighting up now. I just sent Greg a text, but he’s down at the beach. I don’t think we’ll catch him this time either. I’ve got to go. I’ve got five calls on hold.”
“Wait, I got a partial plate.” I read her off the digits and then hung up.
My aunt was staring at me. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”
Frustrated, I tucked the new envelope into my tote. “You didn’t see the motorcycle fly through the crowd on the sidewalk? It’s a wonder no one was hurt.”
“I heard a ruckus out there, but we were busy with customers.” She stared at her wrapped foot. “Besides, I can’t really run to the window every time I hear something now, can I?”
Harrold walked over and stood near me. “You’re coming back to relieve Jackie, right? She needs to take a pill and lie down for a while.”
“I think I can make my own decisions on what I need.” Aunt Jackie snapped. “If you’re so bored, why don’t you go run your own shop?”
“Aunt Jackie.” I looked at her. “Go upstairs and relax. Harrold will watch the store while I’m gone, then he can come upstairs for you to apologize or he can go home. It’s up to you.”
The two of them stared at me like I had gone mad. Then Aunt Jackie shrugged. “He doesn’t have to wait for an apology. I’m hurting and grumpy.”
“You’re pushing yourself too fast.” Harrold said, then held his hands up in mock surrender when she glared at him again. “Sorry, I can’t help myself. I worry about you.”
She smiled at him but her face held the pain still. “I’m going upstairs. Come up when you’re ready and we can reheat that potato soup I have in the freezer. I have some rolls we can eat with it.”
Harrold watched her leave and then nodded to me. “The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll get back. I was just putting on a good face for your aunt, but I don’t know how to make any of your fancy drinks. I’ve been pushing the plain coffee all morning.”
“Give them free cheesecake and have any customers who order something you don’t know how to make wait for me. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes tops.” I figured it would be longer, but I didn’t know if Harrold would let me go if I was totally truthful. I paused at the door. “You’re good for her, you know.”
He shook his head. “You have that wrong. We’re good for each other.”
Greg called me before I reached the bank. “You okay?”
“I take it Esmeralda told you I called about the biker on the sidewalk incident.” Greg’s call made me feel all warm and gooey. He’d send the grumpy me up to bed if I was blowing a gasket, just like Harrold had done to Aunt Jackie. “I’m fine. I got a partial plate.”
“She told me that too. The other callers didn’t get much more than big guy and black motorcycle, so I’m glad you were there. I worry when you’re in the middle of these things. But I’m getting used to it. “ Greg paused. “I’ve got to go. Plan on dinner tonight. I feel a need to be close to you.”
“Oh, that’s sweet. I’m missing you too.” I pulled the door to the bank open and walked into the cool air-conditioned lobby.
“Actually, I’m thinking keeping you close might be the only way to keep you safe.”
“Not funny. Look, I’m at the bank. Call me when you’re on your way and I’ll tell you where I am.” I looked at the two lines. Allie’s was shorter, but I knew that was a bad idea. I’d wait out the line for Margie. Harrold could hold the fort for a little while longer.
A chuckle filled my ears. “I wasn’t joking.” He hung up on me and I put the cell in my tote and then pulled out the four bank bags.
I heard the groan from the woman behind me as she calculated the time it would take to process my transactions. Then as I watched, she stepped over and got into Allie’s line. You’re going to regret that move lady.
Margie’s line continued to shorten, and the other one didn’t move at all. I saw the line jumper compare our lines several times before she tucked the deposit back into her purse and disappeared out the door. If Claire didn’t get this girl trained soon, or transferred out to another branch, she’d have customer service complaints to the head office. If she didn’t already. Finally, it was my turn at Margie’s window. I piled the four bags on the counter. “Sorry about all of this.”
Margie shrugged. “No worries, you guys are easy. I like doing your deposits. You should see what some of the other businesses bring in. At least your cash is in some sort of order.”
“You may not like one packet. I’m in charge of doing the deposits for Antiques by Thomas for the next week. I’m not even looking into the bags, just bringing them in and taking back the deposit slip.” I had a feeling Josh was meticulous in his money handling, but who knew how Kyle completed the task.
“Still not a problem, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
I watched as she quickly sorted the cash, counting it out for me to view, then scanned all the checks. She had all four deposits done and the bags and slips back to me in less than five minutes. Harrold would be happy to see me walk through the door. “Thanks. Hey, Allie was going to run yesterday’s deposit after I left. Can I get the bags and slips from her without going through her line?”
I saw Margie scan the computer screen in front of her. “I don’t see a deposit yesterday.” My heart dropped. If Allie had lost my deposit, that was one thing, but if she’d lost Josh’s, I’d never hear the end of my irresponsibility. I kicked myself for not insisting she just muddle through the deposit. “Hold on, let me ask her.”
Margie walked over and I could see Allie shake her head. Then Margie pointed at me and asked her something again. This time the girl seemed to ponder the question and her face brightened. She ducked under the counter and came up with two bank bags. My two bank bags. Margie said something, grabbed the bags out of the other teller’s hands, and marched back to her window.
She opened a bag and took out the contents. “Sorry, it appears that she forgot to make your deposit. I’ll talk to Claire to make sure you don’t lose any interest because of our error.”
She hadn’t made the deposit? “How is that even possible? I thought you all counted out your tills every night?”
Margie wouldn’t meet my eyes. “We do. But if someone hides work, it’s hard to track. Look, I’m really sorry and I will talk to Claire. I suppose you could call our hotline and complain if you really want to, but it would only look bad on management, not the specific teller.”
“That’s okay. No harm, no foul.” I folded the four bags she’d already given me and tucked them back into my tote. I tried to lighten the mood with a joke. “Just know I’ll be standing in your line from now on, even if you’re swamped.”
“You and everyone else in town,” Margie muttered as she finished processing the deposits.
* * * *
After rescuing Harrold and extracting a promise that he and Jackie would be back down at four, I opened my laptop and scanned my emails for anything to do with next Friday’s library event. Aunt Jackie’s accident had come at a bad time. Between the festival and my aunt running on four of her normal fifty cylinders, we were up against some deadlines. RSVP’s were coming in to the store email and I had to get a final number to the caterer on Monday. We had offered the gig to Sadie and her Pies on the Fly business, but she’d turned us down saying she wanted to attend as a guest, not work the event.
I added names to the spreadsheet that we kept accessible in the cloud or somewhere on line. I didn’t really understand the way it worked, but I loved the ease of updating the document. . Aunt Jackie, Sasha, me, and even our two librarian sponsors could update the list as we gathered RSVPs. I’d just finished the last of the credit card charges for the event tickets when I noticed Blake and Kathi walk by the front of the shop. She was pointing across the street at her still-in-restoration building and as I watched, they crossed, weaving through traffic. The sight of Blake holding her hand made me smile.
The
door chime sounded and Darla strode in. “Sorry about this morning. I got tied up at the winery. Who orders the usual amount of alcohol for a festival weekend? My night manager, that’s who. I don’t know what the girl was thinking.”
“Did you get the problem solved?” I knew from experience that deliveries from Bakerstown were in short supply on weekends—and pricey.
“Yeah, but Jake’s going to expect a favor out of this one, I can already tell.” She leaned back and stared at the display case. “Slice me up some of NY’s finest. I can’t help it, I love that stuff.”
“Something to drink with that? A latte?” I knew Darla was partial to full-octane mochas.
“Hazelnut coffee. I’ve been working my butt off all week. I know we do these festivals to bring in business, but this has been crazy.” Darla looked around the shop that for the moment was empty except for the two of us. “You’re kind of slow, huh?”
“Here, yes. But the truck has been hopping. I think most of the morning foot traffic has moved down to the beach. The first band started at one. They’ll be going until ten tonight.” I sat the cheesecake and coffee in front of her and she slid onto one of the counter stools. I grabbed a bottle of water for me and went around and sat next to her. “I’m here until four, then Greg and I are doing dinner at the house, then back to the beach to close up the truck. Wash, rinse, repeat tomorrow.”
“Oh, the joy of owning your own business. Did you ever think it would be this demanding?” Darla took a bit of the cheesecake and groaned. “Sadie is a magician with her ovens. This is heavenly.”
If I was going to ask her about the murder, I had better do it now, before the sugar coma hit. “So did you talk to the manager over at The Coastal Inn? Did she have anything to tell you about the murder?”
Darla’s fork paused midway to her mouth. She looked at me, then the cheesecake, then back to me. Finally, she resolved her internal struggle and sat the fork down. “Are we talking on or off the record?”
“I’d rather you not quote me for your article, if that’s what you’re asking.” Not that I had anything to share that Darla probably didn’t already know, but it was good to set up the ground rules first.
She took a sip of coffee and pulled a notebook out of her purse. Paging through, she paused and read the notes. She dropped it on the table and considered me. “I’m going to trust you. Besides, knowing you, you probably want to solve the crime more than write something for a competing paper.”
I held my hand up in a salute. “I swear I’m not working for any type of journalistic endeavor. Does that cover everything?”
“Just about.” A smile creased Darla’s face. “So when I went to talk to Tilly, the guy had signed in as Joe Cook. Which apparently wasn’t his name. But I bet you already know that.”
I nodded. Everyone knew who had been killed by now, and I didn’t get the info from Greg, so it wasn’t a problem confirming Darla was right. “Darryl Corbin. He is, well, was, Kathi’s cousin.”
“I think even in death, they stay cousins. He’s just the quieter of the two.” Darla leaned closer. “Did you know Ivy was seen visiting his room with another guy”
Wait, could there be a fourth cousin? The obituary for Kathi’s uncle had only listed Darryl and the girls along with their dad, so if not a relative, maybe the guy was Ivy’s boyfriend? I’d never seen where Ivy was staying, she just appeared in town or out on the beach. Where was she living? Not at The Coastal Inn. Definitely not at Main Street Bed and Breakfast with her sister.
Darla pointed her now empty fork at me. “Where’d you go just now?”
“I didn’t move.” Confused, I looked down at my body, confirming I hadn’t moved even an inch.
“In your head. You were doing some heavy lifting up there. What were you thinking about?” Darla took another bit of her cheesecake. After she swallowed, she continued. “And don’t tell me nothing. Your eyes were twitching like you were in REM sleep, only you were wide awake.”
I didn’t answer her question, instead, I asked one of my own. “Did Ivy Corbin fill out an employment application with you a few days ago?”
Darla nodded. “She said your aunt sent her up my way. Why?”
Excitement flew through me like a kid the night before the state fair. “Because job applications have the address and phone number for the candidate, right?”
“You want to know where Ivy’s been living.” Darla pulled out her cell and dialed a number. When someone picked up the other end, she directed them to go into her office and pull the employment folder. “I’ll wait.”
I looked at her and she shrugged. “The kid’s pretty new. He wanted me to call back in a few minutes because he was setting up the band. He’ll learn that the boss comes first, always. Or at least, I hope…” She broke off her tirade and listened. “Yep, that’s the one. Find an application from Ivy Corbin and give me the home address and phone number.”
She flipped her pad to a clean page and wrote down the information. “Thanks,” she said then hung up on her employee.
I looked at Darla. “Well?”
“She lists a Texas address as primary, but right under that is a local hotel. One I’d never even considered Ivy staying at. She’s got a room at The Castle.”
Chapter 13
The Castle was the primo hotel-slash-tourist attraction in the area. When Craig Morgan ran the place, he was friends with the mayor and sucked up all the city’s marketing funding. After he died—well, was killed—his ex-wife took over management of the place. We were all much more cooperative now.
Rooms at the art deco museum were pricy. How was Ivy managing with no job and no visible means of support? And why was she looking for part-time work when she could save a bundle by staying somewhere cheaper? The problem nagged at me during the last few hours of my shift. Luckily, I got a rush of customers right after Darla left which lasted until just a few minutes before Aunt Jackie and Harrold emerged from the apartment.
Aunt Jackie look rested and her cheeks were actually pink. She’d been so drawn when I sent her upstairs, I had begun to worry that we’d have to close either the annex or the shop without the manpower to keep both open.
“You look better.” I kissed her cheek as she hobbled around me, using crutches to stay off her bad ankle.
“Don’t start with the I told you so. I was perfectly fine before I left, but I’ll admit, the nap did feel good.” She set up on the couch and waved me over. “Bring that laptop over here and I’ll go through the event sign ups.”
“Already done, or at least up to two o’clock today. Then I got busy with customers.” I still took the laptop over. “You could look over the to-do list I’ve started and see if there’s anything I need to do tomorrow or Monday. I can’t believe this thing is happening in less than a week.”
“Did you hear from Claire?” My aunt didn’t look up from the computer screen as she reviewed my work on the spreadsheet.
“She said she should know more on Monday. I guess they’re doing some sort of computer upgrade.” I kept my voice low, hoping Harrold hadn’t heard our conversation. “It’s been a mad house over there too.”
I explained about the new teller, including the part where Allie had almost lost ours deposit. I had to leave out the part about me doing Josh’s deposits since Jackie would ask why and where he was, two questions I didn’t know how to answer.
I glanced at the clock, almost four thirty. “I gotta run. I’m meeting Greg for dinner at the house.”
“A thoughtful man would have taken you out so you didn’t have to cook.” My aunt sniffed.
Sometimes I didn’t know if she liked Greg or if she just tolerated him on my behalf. “He’s been crazy busy this weekend too. Besides, I can throw something together faster than it would take us to drive someplace to eat.”
“I ordered in a pizza from Lille’s for later tonight.” Harrold flung a white towel over his shoulder. Barista Babe, Senior Division, I thought, tryin
g to keep my grin on the inside. “Why don’t you two come down and eat with us? Jackie, isn’t that a great idea?”
Jackie rolled her eyes at me and then turned on Harrold. “No, I don’t think that’s a great idea. I’m sure you only ordered one pizza and have you seen the boy eat? I swear, we’d be lucky to get a piece of crust when he was done.”
“So not fair.” I grabbed my tote bag. “Partially true, but still unfair to talk about someone who’s not here to defend themselves.”
“Having a healthy appetite is never a bad thing in anyone.” Harrold leaned against the couch, holding my aunt’s hand. Another sweet moment. The universe seems to be telling me something. Like how my life could be someday.
“Anyway, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. You are off the hook for your shift at the food truck. There’s not enough room in there for you, your crutches, and your personal slave.” I nodded to Harrold.
“Then I’ll see you on Wednesday. I have a follow-up appointment on Monday so we’ll ask him to release me for a full schedule.” My aunt put her reading glasses back on and stared at the computer. I’d been dismissed.
“It will probably be more like a few weeks before you can count on having her full time.” Harrold squeezed Aunt Jackie’s hand. “Although she is pretty stubborn.”
“You’ve noticed that?” I hurried out the door before I could hear my aunt’s response.
I dropped off my extra bank bags to Kyle along with the deposit slips. “Put these in the cash register where they’ll be safe.” I could have hung on to them, but honestly, I was afraid if I lost them, Josh would blame me.
“Good idea.” He put them into the register while I watched. “I’m closing up for the night but I didn’t make any more sales after you took the deposit. So I’ll just put the cash drawer in the safe for Tuesday.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I put my hand on the doorknob, but turned back. “Have you heard from Josh?”
“You mean since he left on Friday?” Kyle shook his head. “Man, I’m beginning to worry about the dude—I mean, Mr. Thomas. He never goes a day without checking in on the store, even when he’s on big buying trips. Have you heard anything?”
