by Sarah Fox
When I entered the antiques shop, the bell above the door announcing my presence, I breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of wood and leather. Mr. Gorski was in the middle of ringing up purchases for a burly, dark-haired man, so I simply said hello and moved on to the jewelry cabinet at the far end of the sales counter. When I glanced back toward the two men, I realized the customer was Wally’s buddy Chester Burns. Mr. Gorski was wrapping up an antique necklace and a set of dangly pearl earrings for him.
I paid him no more attention and focused on the jewelry in the display case in front of me. I’d known that I’d taken a liking to the seahorse pendant, but I was surprised by how disappointed I was when I saw that it was no longer in the case. The butterfly brooch was still there, however, so as soon as Mr. Gorski was available, I pointed it out to him and he removed it from the case. As much as I loved to spend time browsing the aisles, I decided to keep my visit short. I wanted to be home when Brett arrived, and I still planned to stop by the waffle house to see if Vicky was there.
When I’d paid for the brooch and had it tucked away safely in my tote bag, I set a course for the Waffle Kingdom, determined not to let myself get distracted again. I didn’t know if Vicky had any reason to be at the waffle house that day, but I didn’t know where she lived, so that was the only place I knew to look for her.
When I arrived at the restaurant and peered in through the large front window, I saw that I was in luck. I could see Vicky near the counter at the back, but she wasn’t alone. Chester was with her, and the two of them were locked in a passionate embrace.
Chapter 13
I almost turned away, deciding it wasn’t the best time to interrupt, but then the two lovebirds broke apart and Vicky spotted me through the window. She waved and came toward the door, so I stayed in place.
“Hi,” Vicky said, sounding breathless when she opened the door. “What can I do for you?”
I held up one of the bakery boxes. “I brought something for you. I thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
“Oh. That’s kind of you.” She patted a hand over her hair, as if afraid it might be messy. She glanced back at Chester, but then opened the door and stood back. “Come on in.”
As I stepped inside, I passed her the bakery box.
She peeked inside. “Those look delicious. Thank you.”
My gaze shifted to Chester. He still stood near the back of the restaurant, his eyes on Vicky as he shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable.
When Vicky noticed him watching her, she forced a smile for my benefit. “Just give me a moment.”
I waited near the door as she set the bakery box down on the nearest table and hurried over to Chester.
“I’ll see you later,” she whispered, though not quietly enough to prevent me from hearing.
“But the lawyer’s supposed to call,” Chester said.
“And I’ll let you know once I’ve heard from him.” Vicky leaned in closer to him and whispered something further, this time too quietly for her words to reach my ears. Then she gave him a quick kiss and tipped her head in the direction of the front door.
With obvious reluctance, Chester took his cue and headed out, barely acknowledging me with a slight nod as he passed by. Once we were alone, Vicky smoothed down the dark blue T-shirt she wore with her jeans.
“Sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize,” I assured her. “I’m sorry I interrupted you two.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed. “That’s all right.”
“I didn’t realize the two of you were an item,” I said.
“We weren’t until recently. He’s been so supportive and sweet since Wally died. He told me he’s had feelings for me for a long time but didn’t say anything because Wally was his best friend and he wasn’t sure what he’d think about the two of us dating.” Her hand went to the silver-encircled pearl hanging from a chain around her neck. “Anyway, who knows where things will go, but at the moment it’s nice to have him around.”
“Was that a gift from him?” I asked, indicating the pendant. “I saw him at the antiques store earlier buying a necklace like that one.”
Vicki beamed as she fingered the piece of jewelry. “Yes, he just gave it to me. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It’s gorgeous.”
I looked at her ears but they weren’t pierced. Maybe Chester hadn’t realized that when he’d bought the necklace and earrings.
“I couldn’t help but overhear Chester mention a lawyer,” I said, my mind tracing its way back to their whispered conversation. “I hope you’re not in trouble. Did the sheriff accept your alibi?”
“Oh, it’s nothing like that. Wally’s lawyer is supposed to call me. He’s got Wally’s will, you see. I’m hoping he can tell me what’s going to happen to this place and with Wally’s money.”
“Wally never told you what he had planned for his estate?”
“He told me a lot of things, but I don’t know what was the truth and what wasn’t. He liked to use his money as a way to get people to do what he wanted. Like with this place.” She gestured around at the restaurant. “He told me if I came back to Wildwood Cove and helped him run the waffle house, he’d make me a partner in the business and give me a big bonus check.”
“But he didn’t?” I guessed.
“No.” A note of bitterness had crept into her voice, but when she spoke again, it was gone, her voice neutral. “He kept promising, but I don’t know if he ever would have delivered.”
I wanted to ask about her alibi again, but she didn’t give me a chance.
“I’m afraid I can’t chat long. The lawyer could phone at any moment. I really appreciate you coming by, though. It’s not like people have been tripping over each other wanting to express their condolences.” Again, the note of bitterness had slipped back into her voice.
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, but the ringing of a phone somewhere in the back of the restaurant saved me from responding.
“That must be the lawyer now.” Vicky yanked open the door and ushered me out onto the sidewalk. “Thanks again for stopping by!”
She raced toward the back of the waffle house, disappearing through the door that led to the kitchen and office. I stood there on the sidewalk for a moment before accepting the fact that I wouldn’t be getting any further information out of her. I’d hoped to broach the subject of Glo, to see if Vicky thought she could have killed her brother, but that wouldn’t happen now, and I still didn’t know if her alibi had withstood Ray’s scrutiny. I’d have to come back another time or find a different way to get the information I wanted.
I didn’t know how to find out about the state of Vicky’s alibi—Ray certainly wouldn’t want me asking him about it—but I could probably find out more about Glo without too much trouble. I decided to start by asking Patricia about her. Sienna’s mother not only ran a bed-and-breakfast and created stunning pieces of art, she was also involved in the community and knew almost everyone in Wildwood Cove.
Before talking to Patricia, however, I was heading home. Brett would be there soon and I didn’t want to miss his arrival.
Flapjack and Bentley greeted me when I returned home, and I let them out into the yard after doling out pats and hugs. Once I got them back into the house, only a minute or two passed before I heard a familiar rumble coming along the driveway. Bentley and I nearly tripped over each other in our excited rush to reach the front door.
We spilled out onto the porch as Brett brought his silver truck to a stop. Bentley bounded down the steps and jumped up at Brett as soon as he opened the truck door.
“Hey, buddy.” Brett gave Bentley a hug and a pat.
The dog dashed over to a tree and rushed back to Brett, a tennis ball in his mouth. Brett laughed as Bentley dropped the ball at his feet. He grabbed it and threw it across the yard, the goldendoodle enthusiastical
ly giving chase.
With his dog occupied for a few seconds at least, Brett turned my way. A smile stretched across my face as I hurried down the steps and threw my arms around him. I felt him let out a long sigh as he hugged me back, and for some reason that nearly brought tears to my eyes. I kissed him before I had a chance to start bawling, and by the time I stepped back, I was beaming, no tears in sight.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” I kept hold of his hands, not wanting to break contact with him.
Dark rings beneath his eyes told of his exhaustion, but there was nothing weary about his smile. “It’s so good to see you.” He pulled me in for another kiss, and then kept an arm around my shoulders as we watched Bentley bounce around us, thrilled to have his favorite human back home.
I leaned into Brett, soaking up his presence. “How’s your dad today?”
“A little bit better than yesterday.”
“That’s good. Little by little, right?”
He kissed the top of my head. “Exactly.”
Bentley dropped the tennis ball at Brett’s feet, so he picked it up and threw it across the yard again.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Starving. For food and for your company.”
“You’ve got me, so how about we get you something to eat?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Bentley followed us inside and Flapjack appeared from the back of the house to wind around Brett’s legs. I put together a couple of sandwiches, ready for lunch myself, and we sat on the couch to eat, sitting close enough that our arms and legs touched. I brought out the butter pecan tarts and fudge brownies for dessert. We munched on both until we were too full to eat any more and Brett’s eyes were threatening to close on him.
“Are you meeting up with Pedro today?” I asked as I brushed some crumbs off my shirt, onto my empty plate.
“I am, but not until four.”
I kissed him on the cheek and brushed a blond curl off his forehead. “That gives you time for a nap.”
“Good thing. I’m already half asleep.”
“I noticed,” I said with a smile.
I got up and took his hand, pulling him to his feet. “You go get some rest.”
“Not quite yet.” He tugged me in close for a long hug and an even longer kiss.
I put a hand to his chest as he rested his forehead against mine. “I know you were only gone a couple of days, but I missed you so much.”
“Same here.”
“Are we crazy?”
“Crazy in love.”
A smile took over my face. “That’s definitely true.”
My smile faded and I sighed, not wanting to be apart from him but knowing he needed to rest. With reluctance, I pulled back and gave him a gentle shove toward the hallway. “Sleep.”
He squeezed my hand before letting go. Bentley followed him upstairs and quiet fell over the house. Flapjack was snoozing on the back of the couch, and all I could hear was the ticking of the clock in the kitchen. I eyed the stack of Camelia’s diaries I’d left on an end table, tempted to curl up with them and the album of newspaper clippings, but there was a more current mystery that needed my attention. As long as a cloud of suspicion hovered over Ivan and Lisa, I needed to keep digging, to do my best to find the truth and clear their names.
After pulling my jacket on, I slipped quietly out the back door and headed along the beach, frothy waves crashing against the shore on my left, whitecaps dancing on the blue-green water. I pulled up my hood and buried my hands deep in my pockets, trying to protect myself from the wind’s icy bite.
When I reached the yellow-and-white Driftwood Bed-and-Breakfast, I hurried up the steps to the back porch and knocked on the French doors. Sienna jumped up from the dining table to let me in the house.
“Hi, Marley,” she said as she shut the door behind me. “Are you here to see my mom?”
“I am. Is she home?”
“She’s out getting some groceries. I can text her and tell her you’re here.”
“That’s all right. I can talk to her later. How come you’re not at school?”
“I don’t have classes this afternoon.”
I took in the sight of the textbooks and papers strewn across the dining table. “It looks like you have homework, though.”
Sienna made a face. “Unfortunately. Will you stay for a bit?”
“I should probably let you get back to work.”
“Please don’t. I could use a break. Do you want something to drink?” She was already heading for the fridge.
I accepted a glass of root beer and joined Sienna at the table. “I was wondering if your mom knows Glo Hansfield, but you’re friends with her daughter, right?”
“Bailey? Sort of, I guess.” She took a sip of her drink before elaborating. “We were friends when we were little, but once we got to middle school we sort of drifted apart.”
“She hasn’t looked very happy lately.”
Sienna frowned, the piercing in her bottom lip catching the light. “No. I asked her what’s wrong, but she wouldn’t tell me. Her parents have been looking seriously stressed lately too. Probably because of that guy who got murdered. He killed Bailey’s aunt in a car accident a long time ago, before Bailey and I were born.”
“I heard about that.”
“How come you want to know if my mom knows Mrs. Hansfield?”
I hesitated, not sure if I should voice my suspicions.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to.
Sienna’s heavily lined eyes widened. “Do you think she killed the waffle guy?”
“I’m not sure.”
“But she’s on your suspect list?” She leaned forward, surprising me with her eagerness. “Please tell me.”
“Okay, yes. She’s on my suspect list.” I told her about Glo’s disappearance from the event at the hardware store on the night of the murder.
“And she totally has a motive,” Sienna said once I’d finished. “Revenge.” She tapped a pencil against one of her textbooks. “So now what we need is evidence.”
“We?” I sputtered, almost choking on the sip of root beer I’d just taken.
Sienna grinned at me. “Yes, we. I’m officially your sidekick.”
Chapter 14
“Since when?” I asked once I’d managed to finish swallowing my root beer.
“Since five seconds ago.”
“I don’t think your mom would appreciate me dragging you into a murder investigation, even if it’s an unofficial one.”
“You’re not dragging me anywhere, and it’s not like she has to know.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Come on,” Sienna beseeched, giving me the teenage girl equivalent of sad puppy-dog eyes. “I can help you. I’ve got connections.”
“Connections?”
“We need to know what the police know, or don’t know. Right?”
“And how are you going to find that out?”
Sienna’s smile reminded me of the Cheshire cat. “Connections.” She jumped up and grabbed her jacket from the coatrack by the back door. “I’ll explain on the way.”
“Don’t you need to finish your homework?”
She waved off the question. “I’ll finish it later.”
I followed her out to the driveway where her red secondhand Toyota was parked, a present from her parents when she turned sixteen.
“So where is it we’re going?” I asked as soon as I was in the passenger seat.
“To see Justine Welch.”
“The reporter?”
“I babysit for her sometimes.” Sienna turned out of the driveway onto Wildwood Road, heading toward the center of town. “My mom knows her stepmom. When Justine moved back to town, she needed a sitter, and Nancy—that’s her stepmom—suggested me.”
/> “Nancy’s the one who works at the museum,” I said, remembering what Lisa had told me.
“Yep. Justine knows people, and she knows how to get information. She’d rather be a big-city reporter, but she stopped working when she got married and since she got divorced she’s had to start over. Anyway, if anyone can tell us what’s going on with the official investigation, it’ll be her.”
“And she’ll just tell us everything she knows?”
Sienna shrugged. “Maybe we should introduce the subject casually and see what she’s willing to share. Is there anything in particular you want to know?”
I mentioned Vicky’s alibi. “It would be nice to know if the sheriff’s department was able to confirm it.” I thought for a moment. “And maybe she can tell us if the police have found any physical evidence.”
“Like what? Wasn’t the guy killed with liquid nitrogen or something freaky like that?”
“Yes, liquid nitrogen.” I chewed on my lower lip as Sienna turned onto Main Street and pulled into a free parking spot by the curb. “Come to think of it, the killer probably would have ended up with cryogenic burns if they weren’t wearing any protection on their hands. But the only gloves I saw at the crime scene were Wally’s.”
“There haven’t been any rumors about someone walking around with cryogenic burns, so maybe the killer disposed of their gloves somewhere away from the scene of the crime.”
“It’s definitely a possibility,” I agreed.
“Hmmm.” Sienna tapped the steering wheel.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, suspicious.
“That we should see what we can find out.”
Before I could question her about the truthfulness of her response, she was out of the car and gesturing for me to follow. She led the way to a small stationary store nestled between a café and a hair salon. A sign in the window indicated that the office of the Wildwood Cove Weekly was located in the back of the store.
Charlene McGinnis—the owner of the store and the newspaper—stood behind the checkout desk, focused on her computer screen, but she looked up and greeted us when we entered the shop. She’d eaten at The Flip Side on a few occasions since I’d taken over the restaurant, so we were already acquainted.
