Death by Intermission

by Alexis Morgan

  The man had a serious sweet tooth and made no bones about it. “Yeah, I remember. It was delicious, but that was lunch. I’m talking about dinner dessert.”

  It was tempting to keep teasing the man, but she couldn’t resist those puppy-dog eyes. “Check the cabinet over the microwave.”

  He practically leapt across the room to yank the door open. His face lit up as soon as he spotted the blackberry coffee cake she’d made. For a big man, Tripp could really move. In one continuous motion, he let out a loud whoop as he slammed the door closed before grabbing Abby around the waist and spun the two of them around in circles. Before finally setting her back down, he planted a big kiss on her mouth, leaving her laughing and blushing. Then the humor in his eyes warmed into something else, something more, as he stared down at her. “Woman, you never cease to amaze me.”

  “Ahem.”

  Abby choked back a groan. Nothing like a mother’s presence to throw a pall on one of the few enjoyable moments she’d had all day. “Tripp was just letting me know that he likes blackberry coffee cake.”

  “Is that what that was?”

  At least her mother sounded more amused than disapproving. Jada followed her into the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Tripp had remained beside Abby, his arm looped around her shoulder. “We’re waiting on the casserole to finish warming in the oven. It should be ready in a few more minutes.”

  Jada looked a bit disappointed, as if she needed to earn her keep. Abby pointed toward the container in the corner. “Could you give Zeke two scoops of his food and some fresh water?”

  Abby had guessed right, judging from the way Jada hurried to accomplish her assigned tasks. Zeke showed his appreciation by hoovering up his kibble in record time and then washing it down with half the water in his bowl. By that point, Tripp had taken his seat at the table. The dog immediately plopped his big head on Tripp’s jean-clad leg.

  “Darn it, dog, how many times have I told you not to use my pants for a towel?”

  It was hard not to laugh. Thanks to Zeke’s mastiff ancestors, he had an amazing gift for storing extra water in his jowls. The unwary were always fair game for ending up with a huge wet circle wherever Zeke laid his head in the hopes of getting petted. “He’d probably listen better if you didn’t scratch his ears the whole time you’re cataloging his evil deeds.”

  Tripp just shrugged and kept right on with what he was doing. They all three knew he complained out of habit rather than any real desire for the dog to share his drool with anyone else. Jada joined him at the table while Abby and her parental unit continued to hover around the edges of the kitchen.

  The timer on the stove went off just as the front doorbell rang, leaving Abby torn between which summons to respond to first. Finally, she delegated dinner to her mother’s capable hands.

  “Mom, if you’ll get the casserole out of the oven, I’ll see who’s at the door.”

  Tripp immediately pushed Zeke’s head off his lap. “Were you expecting anyone?”

  When she shook her head, he stalked down the hall ahead of her with Zeke right beside him. She hadn’t been particularly worried about who might have come calling, but Tripp clearly wasn’t taking any chances. The man took his protection duty seriously.

  He paused long enough to peek out the window and then jerked the door open before Abby even had time to get there. She couldn’t see past Tripp, but his body language changed drastically as he leaned into the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Well, well. Owen Quinn, we didn’t expect to see you tonight. Did you dig your way out of jail with a spoon, or did Gage kick you to the curb?”

  CHAPTER 20

  Her mother must have developed ears like a bat, because she came charging in from the kitchen and shoved her way past Abby and then Tripp. “Owen! You’re really here.”

  Two seconds later, Owen had her wrapped in his arms, holding her close. It was tempting to flash the porch light in retaliation for the other night, but Abby squelched the urge—if only barely. Tripp knew it, too. He must have been wanting a little revenge himself. He gave her a wicked grin and reached toward the light switch. She slapped his hand away right before he would’ve flipped it.

  Regretfully, someone had to be the adult in the room.

  “Mom, why don’t you invite Owen to come inside and join us for dinner? I’ll go set another place at the table.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Tripp’s hand and hauled him back to the kitchen. At least he came willingly. They both knew she couldn’t have budged him if he had thought Owen presented danger to anyone.

  Jada was waiting in the kitchen. She looked past Abby toward Tripp. “Did I hear Mr. Quinn at the door?”

  Tripp resumed his spot at the table. “Yeah, it’s him, but he hasn’t had a chance to explain what he’s doing here.”

  Abby added a fifth place-setting on the table and popped the top on another beer, figuring Owen would appreciate a cold one after spending the past few days in jail. With everything ready, all they could do was wait for Owen and her mother to join them. Jada took a seat next to Tripp, maybe so the two of them could share Zeke’s attentions, while Abby sat next to Tripp on the other side. It was another couple of minutes before the older couple finally made their way to the kitchen.

  Owen studied the table and then offered Abby a hesitant smile. “I don’t mean to impose, Abby. I just wanted to let your mom know I was out, so she could stop worrying so much about me.”

  Even Abby had to admit that was good news. “I’m glad you did. We’re not having anything fancy, but you’re more than welcome to join us.”

  Her mother pulled out a chair for him and waited until he sat down before finally taking the last spot at the table. To get things going, Abby passed the salad to Jada. “Please, everyone, dig in.”

  Tripp scooped a huge portion of the casserole onto his plate. “This stuff is really hot. If you’ll pass your plates, I can serve.”

  As soon as she handed over hers, everyone else followed suit. The shuffling of the plates didn’t take long. Owen caught her eye. “This all looks delicious, Abby.”

  “Thanks, but I didn’t make the casserole.” She shot Tripp a teasing smile before adding, “Tripp’s special lady friend did.”

  Owen’s eyebrows shot up as his gaze bounced between Tripp and Abby. “Really? But I thought you two were—”

  Her mother cut him off before he could finish. “It’s not what you think. Tripp’s friend is in her eighties. Evidently, Jean doesn’t think he eats right. Although from what I’ve seen, he eats a lot of his meals right here.”

  Abby gritted her teeth to keep from lashing out in anger. She was rather proud of herself for how calm she sounded when she said, “Lately, Mom, you realize that I could say the same thing about you.”

  When Tripp choked on the bite he’d just swallowed, she reached over and pounded on his back. It was time to turn the conversation back to a safer topic. “How’s the casserole?”

  Tripp didn’t answer until after he took a quick swig of his beer. “Good. Actually, really good. It’s different from her usual ones.”

  Then he lifted another big bite of it up with his fork to study it. “I think that’s fresh dill I’m seeing, and this time she used albacore tuna.”

  Owen joined in the analysis. “I’m thinking the cheese might just be a nice Gruyère. Phoebe, what do you think?”

  After taking a cautious taste, her mom’s expression immediately brightened. “Yes, I think it is. And those are fresh mushrooms, not canned. I also like the crunch of the water chestnuts.”

  She took another bite and smiled. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I might just have to ask Jean for her recipe. This is delicious.”

  Tripp was already serving himself a second helping. “I’ll be sure to tell her. That will please her to no end.”

  After that, everyone concentrated on finishing their meal. As usual, Tripp took charge of th
e cleanup, this time with Jada’s help. Meanwhile, her mother put on a pot of coffee and served their dessert. Once the chores were done, they all gathered around the table again.

  It was time to find out why Owen was now a free man, especially considering he lacked an alibi for the chunk of time he’d left her mother sitting alone at the movie. The problem was how to question him without making it sound like an inquisition. The wrong tone would set her mother off again, and right now Abby was in no mood for another confrontation.

  Fortunately, the man took charge of the conversation himself. Owen added cream and sugar to his coffee and then cleared his throat. He smiled across the table at Jada. “I’m glad you and Gage were able to clear the air over what happened the night of the movie. He didn’t share the details with me, only that he’d confirmed where you’d been.”

  Jada’s face flushed a bit pink as she explained her escapade the night of the movie. “I know I should’ve told you and Chief Logan sooner, Mr. Quinn. It was irresponsible to leave the food truck unattended like that. I didn’t mean to cause you any problems. I’ll understand if you want me to resign.”

  Abby held her breath as they waited for Owen to respond. Jada really needed that job. Luckily, he didn’t keep Jada in suspense. “Your job is safe, Jada, but next time lock the door if you have to step out. We’ll talk more later about when the restaurant will reopen. Unfortunately, my own situation remains a bit precarious, so I won’t hold it against you if you decide to start putting out feelers to find another position. I’d be glad to give you references.”

  As soon as he referred to his continuing problem with Gage’s investigation, Abby checked to see how her mother had reacted to that little bombshell. She’d immediately grasped Owen’s hand, her worry for him etched in the lines bracketing her mouth and eyes. “What did Gage have to say about your situation?”

  He mustered up a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m not all that familiar with the ins and outs of this kind of situation. Having said that, I think he ran out of time where he could hold me without pressing charges, but I’m definitely not in the clear. Apparently, no one can remember seeing me when I went to the food truck. Jada was gone, too, so I have no alibi. I waited around for a few minutes and then left.”

  “So you think Gage considers you the primary suspect?”

  Abby was relieved that Tripp was the one to pose the question instead of her, but it was one that needed to be asked. She avoided meeting her mother’s gaze as they waited for Owen to answer.

  Finally, he shrugged. “As much as I’d like to say that wasn’t the case, I can’t. He has to follow where the facts lead, and I was missing in action around the time of the murder. The fact that the knife was definitely one of mine doesn’t help.”

  Predictably, her mother leapt to his defense. “That’s ridiculous. They can’t know that for sure. Anyone can order chef knives off the internet or buy them in a restaurant supply store.”

  If Owen’s smile was meant to reassure anyone, it didn’t work. “The brand is readily available, but I always burn my initials in the wooden handles on my knives. This one had my mark on it. I own a dozen of them, or at least I did. The police could only come up with eleven when they went through the restaurant, the truck, my car, and my house.”

  “Is there any way to tell which location the knife was taken from?”

  Owen gave her mother’s hand a quick squeeze before responding to Abby’s question. For the first time she could see the toll all of this was taking on him. Exhaustion showed itself in the dark circles under his eyes and the gray scruff along his jawline. Even his voice had a ragged note that she’d never heard before.

  “No, not for sure. The two I keep at the house were both accounted for, but I use the others in both my food truck and the restaurant. So at any given time, I couldn’t tell you how many are in each place. They’re checking for fingerprints, but it won’t be a surprise if they only find mine and maybe Jada’s.”

  She spoke up again. “But doesn’t there need to be a motive? If you didn’t actually know Mitch Anders, it seems strange that you would even be considered a suspect at all.”

  Oddly, rather than immediately addressing that issue, Owen glanced over at the counter. “Is there any chance I could have a little more of the coffee cake? It’s fabulous.”

  Figuring he just needed a moment to collect his thoughts, Abby was up and moving as soon as he spoke. She carried the baking dish over to the table to serve him and Tripp each a second piece. Then she waved the dish in her mother’s direction. “How about you, Mom?”

  When she shook her head, Abby offered it to Jada. She also refused. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  The two men dug right in while Abby refreshed everyone’s coffee. Had anyone else noticed Owen hadn’t responded to Jada’s comment about him not knowing Mitch Anders? Call her suspicious, but that seemed significant. She glanced toward Tripp to see if she could discern his thoughts on the matter. He looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup, his eyebrows riding down low in a slight frown. When she gave him a questioning look, he shook his head just enough to let her know that he wasn’t going to say anything else on the subject.

  When both men finished off their dessert, Jada stood up. “I’ve got a little more reading I need to finish. I’ll be in the dining room if anyone needs me.”

  As they heard the dining room door close, Owen asked, “How is she really doing? I heard there was a burglary, but not much in the way of details.”

  Abby thought it was really Jada’s tale to tell, but evidently her mother felt differently. “As well as can be expected. The poor girl was home alone when someone kicked in her front door. He messed up her living room a little, but the only thing that was stolen was a picture that used to hang in the insurance office.”

  Her mom’s voice dropped to a low whisper as she caught him up on everything that had happened. Pausing to catch her breath, she continued. “Anyway, the picture was one of the things she took home the night of the movie. She’d seen Mitch Anders at the park and thought it was her best chance to retrieve her father’s personal belongings. Mr. Anders had refused to give them back to her and wouldn’t take her calls.”

  There was a flash of anger in Owen’s expression. “I wish she’d told me she was having problems with him. I would’ve helped her get the stuff back. I hope Gage is able to recover the picture for her.”

  At that point, he let out a long, slow breath. “Thank you for dinner, Abby, and I apologize again for dropping by with no warning. It’s been a long few days, so I should be going.”

  Then he frowned. “Am I correct in assuming that Jada is staying here tonight?”

  Tripp nodded. “Yeah, and probably tomorrow night as well. I’m crashing on the couch in the living room. Gage didn’t seem to think the perp would come after her again since he seemingly got what he came for. Regardless, Abby thought Jada would sleep better if I kept an eye on things here.”

  Owen looked marginally happier. “Do you need me to stay and help keep watch?”

  “No, Zeke and I have it covered. No one will get past us, will they, boy?”

  The dog woofed his agreement, making all the humans in the room smile. Owen stood up. “Well, now that I know Jada’s safety is in good hands—and paws—I’ll be going.”

  Abby remained seated but offered up a smile to her departing guest. “We’re glad you’re out, Owen.”

  “Me too, even if it’s only temporary.”

  It was no surprise that her mother followed him down the hall, and Abby didn’t expect her back anytime soon. She had her own dark memories of when Tripp had finally gotten released from jail. It had been all she could do not to check on him a dozen times a day to make sure he was okay. Her mom no doubt felt the same way about Owen.

  What an odd thing to have in common with a parent. She couldn’t help but chuckle a little as she imagined what that particular bonding moment would look like. Tripp cleared his throat to get her atte
ntion. “Care to share the joke?”

  Whoops, she’d almost forgotten that she wasn’t alone at the table. Grimacing, she debated the wisdom of answering that question honestly, but figured what the heck. He’d either find it funny or he wouldn’t. “Mom and I have had our differences lately. Seems like any little thing can set us off.”

  “You mean stuff like flashing porch lights and canoodling at the park?”

  She punched him on the arm, a half-hearted attempt at best. “Very funny, but yeah. Anyway, I’ve been trying to figure out what to do about it. You know, to find some kind of common ground. We used to get along better than this, and I miss it. I just realized that she and I now have something new we both share.”

  By this point, he was looking pretty suspicious. “Do I even want to ask?”

  “Probably not, but I’ll tell you anyway. We can bond over the fact that the men in our lives are both jailbirds. Hey, maybe we could even finesse a reality show deal out of it. You know, mothers and daughters whose men are behind bars. I can see us standing outside a jail cell with a platter of cookies and serving coffee to all the guards and prisoners. What do you think?”

  Tripp crossed his arms over his chest and tried really hard to look crabby about the whole idea, but it was clearly a struggle. In the end his sense of humor overruled all common sense, and his laughter came bubbling out. Maybe it was the stress of the past few days or just the chance to enjoy a few minutes alone with Tripp and Zeke. Regardless of the reason, their shared laughter helped purge a lot of the frustration she’d been dealing with since her mom had moved in.

  As they slowly regained control, Tripp reached over to cup her cheek with his hand. She leaned into its warmth as he said, “Want to walk me home? There are a few things I’ll need, to spend the night over here.”

  Abby’s pulse kicked it up a notch. “What’s in it for me?”

  “Well, for one thing, I can pretty much guarantee my mom’s not there to flash any lights at us.”