“No rush. Meanwhile, I’ll give Gage a call to see what’s going on. I’d rather hear it straight from him. Even if he won’t tell us much, maybe we’ll learn something that will reassure your mom.”
“That would be great, unless that’s going to get you in trouble with him for even asking.”
Tripp picked up his coffee and joined her on the love seat. “The worst he can do is tell me to butt out of his business.”
The small size of the sofa put her in close proximity to Tripp, not that she minded. After dialing Gage’s number, he leaned in closer, probably hoping she’d be able to eavesdrop on the conversation without the police chief being any wiser.
Gage answered on the second ring. “I’m busy, Blackston. Make it quick.”
Tripp rolled his eyes but kept his voice low and even. “I know, Gage. I just wondered what you can tell me about why you took Owen into custody.”
Abby winced. How could silence convey anger so easily?
When Gage finally spoke, the chill in his voice left her shivering and ready to apologize for bothering him. Tripp, however, was made of sterner stuff. “Gage, listen. I’m not asking you give me all the nitty-gritty details. Just enough so I can tell Abby what’s going on. She needs some ammo to talk Mrs. McCree down off the ledge.”
He paused for effect and then added, “It’s either that or you need to get that cell you used to threaten Abby with ready for her mom. And if that happens, I don’t have to tell you that you’ll need a third one for Abby and a fourth for me.”
His comment would have been funny if it weren’t so true. She waited to see which way Gage would go. Fortunately he chose to see the humor in the threat. “Well, at least that way I could be reasonably sure the McCree women would be someplace safe until I can nail down what happened out there at the park.”
“True enough, but then you’d also have the entire quilting guild camped out in your office demanding you set their leader free. I’m envisioning protest marches, sit-ins, and phone trees to call in reinforcements.”
Then his grin turned wicked. “And if you’re not careful, I’ll tell Jean that you’re jealous of all the tuna casseroles she’s brought me.”
By this point Abby was having a hard time not laughing out loud as Tripp continued. “Yeah, I can see it now. There’ll also be open rebellion among your staff for creating a hostile work environment when you foist the casseroles off on them.”
“You can be a real jerk sometimes, Blackston.”
Tripp snorted. “Yeah, but you know Special Forces soldiers do whatever it takes to get the job done. Don’t forget, you were one, too.”
Gage’s big sigh came through loud and clear. “Fine. Owen is sitting in a cell because he both lied and withheld crucial evidence. I’m giving him a chance to rethink his poor choices. You can tell Mrs. McCree she’s welcome to visit him tomorrow morning. Maybe she can talk some sense into him.”
“Will do.”
“And, Abby?”
She winced. She should’ve known he’d guess she was listening in. “Yes, Gage?”
“Tell your mom some chocolate chip cookies would go a long way toward smoothing the feathers she ruffled when she insulted both me and my department. She’ll need to do that to get past the front desk if she wants to actually visit with my prisoner. You should also let her know that while I’ve got a pretty thick skin when it comes to myself, I don’t appreciate anyone insulting the hardworking men and women who serve this town.”
The glacial chill was back in his voice, but she didn’t blame him for feeling the way he did. Her mom had been out of line. “I’ll tell her, Gage, and I’m sorry.”
“Not your problem. See you tomorrow.”
Tripp set his phone on the end table. “Well, that went better than I’d hoped. I can’t imagine why Owen would lie to Gage or what kind of information he could be holding back.”
After pondering the idea for a matter of seconds, she shrugged. “I can only come up with two scenarios. The first, and admittedly most unlikely, reason is that he actually did kill Mr. Anders and isn’t ready to confess.”
Despite her misgivings about Owen’s mysterious past, she couldn’t quite imagine him slipping away from her mother at the movie to commit murder. Even if he’d wanted the man dead, why do so in a way that would mark him as the chief suspect? He could’ve bought a different knife anywhere, and only a complete idiot would’ve used a weapon that would point directly back at him.
And while she wouldn’t admit it to her mom, there was something about Owen that reminded her of both Tripp and Gage, like maybe he’d worn a uniform at some time in the past. She wasn’t naïve enough to assume that all former members of the military walked the straight and narrow, but men like Gage and Tripp wore their sense of honor like a second skin. She suspected Owen did as well.
If true, then there was only one alternative as to why he was sitting behind bars. She angled herself to be able to look directly at Tripp. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced she was right. “He’s sitting in that cell for the same reason you did. He’s another stubborn idiot trying to protect someone.”
Tripp smiled. “I was wondering how long it would take you to connect the dots.”
“I notice you don’t deny it’s a stupid move on his part.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”
“Leaving his woman to clean up the mess.”
When his eyes flared wide in shock, she replayed what she’d just said. Had she just called herself his woman? Yeah, she had. Her cheeks burned hot. “I was talking about Mom and Owen.”
Mostly, anyway.
Rather than sit there and dwell on the big heap of awkwardness she’d just unleashed between them, she gulped down the last of her coffee before bolting for the door. “I’d better get back to Mom. We’ve got cookies to bake.”
Tripp watched from his spot on the love seat. “Don’t you already have a freezer full of cookies?”
“Yeah, but not chocolate chip. I know Gage would probably be okay with whatever Mom offered him. Under the circumstances, it would be smarter to bring exactly what he asked for.”
“Makes sense.”
She reached for the knob to let Zeke and herself out. The dog managed to make his escape, but she wasn’t quite as lucky. Tripp was up and moving right for her, trapping her between him and the door. “One more thing, Abby.”
“What’s that?”
“This.”
Then he gave her one of his patented hit-and-run kisses. In her opinion, it was over far too quickly but still packed quite a punch. She managed a small smile. “We seem to have developed a habit of doing this.”
Not that she was complaining, nor did he deny the truth of her accusation. He twirled a lock of her hair through his fingers. It looked as if he were about to say something, but he must have thought better of it. Evidently they weren’t going to discuss either what she’d said or what he’d done. Fine with her. It was getting late, and she wasn’t up to handling any more drama. Eventually they were going to have to figure out where this thing between them was headed. First, though, she needed to help her mom deal with her own set of problems. She might not be real happy with the woman right now, but the bottom line was that the McCree women stood together. “Good night, Tripp. I’d better get to baking, and you’ve got a paper to do.”
He followed her outside. “Let me know how it goes with Gage and Owen tomorrow.”
“I will.”
Abby was almost halfway across the yard when he called after her, “I noticed you didn’t say whether it was a good habit or a bad one.”
“I’ll let you know when I decide.”
His laughter followed her the rest of the way to her back door.
* * *
Back inside, she noticed the television was on in the living room. Rather than heading down the hall, she dug out the ingredients needed to make their bribe. She slammed a few things down on the count
er louder than necessary, knowing eventually her mother’s curiosity would send her wandering in Abby’s direction. She figured it would be less than three minutes before she had company in the kitchen.
It didn’t even take that long. Her mom now hovered in the doorway, staring at the row of cookie sheets Abby had set out on the table.
“Do you always do your baking this late?”
Abby kept measuring the dry ingredients into a large bowl. “Nope, only when my mother needs to apologize to the local chief of police.”
Without giving her mother a chance to get a word in edgewise, Abby kept talking. “Which I suggest said mother should do if she wants any hope of visiting a certain prisoner tomorrow morning.”
Her mother seemed to shrink in on herself. “So Owen really is in jail.”
“Yeah, he is.” Abby did her best to act as if that were no big deal. “Can you hand me a bag of chocolate chips from the cabinet over there? After that, chop a cup of walnuts for me. I have some in the freezer.”
As her mother followed orders, Abby offered up what little she knew about the situation. “From what I understand, your buddy Owen is sitting in that cell for two reasons, neither of which is that Gage really thinks Owen killed that man.”
Her mom dropped the package of chocolate chips on the counter within easy reach. “So, in other words, he’s holding him for no good reason.”
“No, he’s holding him because Owen has either lied to him or he’s withholding important information regarding the case.”
Having laid out the basic facts, Abby turned to point her spatula at her mother. “That’s the same stupid stunt Tripp pulled a while back that resulted in him sitting in one of Gage’s cells. I swear men can be total idiots sometimes, especially if they’re trying to protect someone else. Believe me, I know. I’ve also learned that a woman can never go wrong by showing up at Snowberry Creek’s police headquarters armed with fresh-baked cookies as a . . .”
She hesitated, briefly hoping to come up with the best way to finish that statement. In the end, she went with the truth. “Well, frankly, as a bribe. However, I wouldn’t recommend calling it that in front of Gage. I’d go with something like they might like to give us some feedback on a new recipe.”
Her mom reached for a cutting board and a chef’s knife. “If it gets me in to see Owen, I’ll call it whatever you want.”
They worked side by side for a few minutes before her mom spoke again. “Maybe we should make a double batch. I suspect I owe Tripp an apology, too.”
Abby reached for the sugar to measure out another cup. “Smart thinking, Mom. We’ll need more chocolate chips and walnuts.”
Zeke had been watching their every move and finally whined just a little. Her mom glanced in his direction. “What’s he need? His water bowl is full, and he was just outside.”
If only it were that simple. “That’s not what he’s asking for.”
When he whined again, Abby sighed and admitted defeat without bothering to argue with him. “You’re right, Zeke. We’re getting low on your favorite peanut butter treats. We’ll make a batch once we get these in the oven.”
The dog sighed happily and went right back to sleep. Offering her mother a rueful smile, she said, “Sorry, but it looks like we’re in for a long night.”
To her surprise, her mom smiled right back. “I was just thinking that it’s been a long time since we’ve hung out and done something like this together. I’ve missed it. I might hate the reason for needing the cookies, but I don’t regret the chance to spend time with my daughter.”
Feeling better about things than she had all day, Abby turned on the mixer and got lost in the familiar rhythms of turning common ingredients into something delicious. If only it was as easy to combine all the bits and pieces of what had happened at the park into a cohesive whole. If only some little detail would point Gage in the right direction.
No one would sleep well knowing a murderer was once again stalking the streets of Snowberry Creek.
CHAPTER 9
“Tell me again why we had to pack up five separate containers of cookies for one bunch of cops.”
Abby had been about to open the door that led into the lobby shared by city hall, the town’s library, and the police department. She was sure she’d been clear the first time her mother had asked, but there was no reason not to go over their plan one last time.
“The desk sergeant sits out in the lobby and may not get back to the bullpen before all the cookies we leave there are gone. The second one is for whoever is on guard duty by the jail cells, and Gage deserves his own since he’s the one you insulted yesterday. The fifth container is for Owen.”
Her mother wrinkled her nose. “Okay, but I’ve never heard of anyone offering up cookies to buy time to visit a prisoner.”
It was hard not to laugh at her reaction. “Seriously, Mom. How many times have you visited someone in jail? But you’re probably right. I’m guessing normally it’s not done. However, as I’ve told you, I consider Gage a personal friend. I’ve also gotten to know some of the other officers as well, and I like them. Maybe it’s a small-town thing.”
To forestall any further discussion on the subject, Abby opened the door and motioned her mom to go ahead. As usual, Sergeant Jones was manning the front desk. He looked up from his computer and smiled as soon as he spotted her. Then he gave the bag in her mother’s hand a—dare she say it?—hungry look.
“Ms. McCree, it’s been a while since you’ve graced us with your presence. We’ve missed you.”
She grinned back at him. “Tell me, Sergeant Jones, is it me you really miss or is it the cookies I always bring?”
Her assessment had him laughing. “Let’s go with a little bit of both.”
“That’s what I thought.” Abby dutifully signed the visitors’ log and then took the bag from her mother so she could do the same. “We’re supposed to check in with your boss. Is he available?”
While he gave Gage a quick call, Abby dug a small container out of the bag and set it on the desk. The sergeant eyed it with a smile. “Yes, sir, and they’ve come bearing gifts.”
He hung up and pointed to the door behind him. “He’s in his office. Go on back.”
Pointing to the container, he asked, “Are those just for me, or do I have to share?”
“All yours, Sergeant Jones. I brought more for the bullpen and for Gage.”
The cookies instantly disappeared behind the counter. “Thank you, ladies. Enjoy your visit.”
Her mother followed close on her heels as they made their way down the hall toward the area that housed the rest of the department. Abby stopped long enough to set the largest container of cookies by the coffeepot, where the staff would find it soon enough. From there they headed toward the door to Gage’s office. He was on the phone, so she knocked on the door frame in case he wanted privacy. He looked up and motioned for them to come on in. She and her mother took seats and waited until he finished up his call.
As soon as he hung up, Abby raised one eyebrow and gave her companion a pointed look. Her mother’s smile wasn’t all it should be, but at least she was trying. She set one of the remaining containers of cookies on Gage’s desk.
“Chocolate chip as requested, Chief Logan. I apologize for my poor behavior yesterday. I offer no excuse other than to say I’ve never seen someone I care about arrested before. I felt helpless and didn’t handle it very well.”
Abby held her breath as Gage sat quietly for several seconds before finally nodding. “Apology accepted. I do realize that it was a stressful situation for you.”
The laugh lines around his eyes deepened just enough to signal the tense moment was over. “If it’s any consolation, your daughter wasn’t any happier with me back when I invited Tripp to take up residence in our deluxe accommodations.”
She gave Abby a quick glance. “So she said. I understand he was there for similar reasons.”
“Close enough.”
He picked up the co
okies. “I’ll put these out for my people.”
Abby rejoined the conversation. “Actually, those are for you. I already put another bunch out by the coffeemaker for the rest of the crew. We also brought some for whoever is on guard duty today.”
Gage leaned back in his chair, looking far more relaxed than he had when they first arrived. “Your buddy, Deputy Chapin, will be happy to see you.”
Abby would be glad to see him as well. They’d met back when Tripp had been locked up. The young deputy had gone out of his way to make things easier for Abby, even letting Zeke come hang out with his buddy. The dog had serious abandonment issues, and Tripp’s abrupt disappearance had left the mastiff mix confused and hurting. It had done both dog and man good to spend time together, even if Zeke hadn’t understood why his friend couldn’t come home with them. Looking back, she had to wonder if Zeke thought Tripp had been in a people shelter waiting to be adopted.
Back to the matter at hand. She had no desire to intrude on the limited time her mother would have with Owen. Hopefully, Deputy Chapin wouldn’t mind if Abby hung out with him instead.
“Tim knows to let both of you in, so there shouldn’t be any problems.” Then Gage gave her mom a considering look. “If you have any influence on Owen, convince him to tell me whatever it is that he’s holding back. The sooner he does, the sooner you can have the stubborn idiot back where you want him.”
Abby was already heading for the door when Gage added, “Besides, I’m tired of people complaining because his restaurant is closed. Evidently, they want their barbecue back.”
“Are you done scoping out the place for evidence?”
“Yeah, we have everything we need”—Gage paused long enough to open the lid of the container and snag two of the cookies—“except answers.”
“We’ll try, Gage, but no promises. I never had any luck talking sense to Tripp.”
Before he could respond, the phone rang. She glanced back one last time before walking out the door. He held the phone a couple of inches from his ear with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other as if fighting a headache. The two cookies lay abandoned on his desk next to an empty coffee cup. The poor guy had probably been running full tilt since they’d first stumbled across the body.
Death by Intermission Page 8
