The Spoonful was crowded. The din of the restaurant made it impossible to hear the bell, but movement at the door caught Lucky’s attention. She looked up to see Ernie White. He entered, accompanied by two men who more than likely worked for him at the festival. Ernie, overweight and not in the best of shape, wore an expensive gray suit while the two men were in jeans, boots and work shirts. Meg seated them at a table and passed out menus.
Lucky glanced over at Jack. She could tell he had spotted Ernie. She hoped Ernie didn’t decide to approach her grandfather again about setting up a booth at the festival. Jack turned in her direction and shot her a meaningful look, indicating Ernie with a jerk of his head. Lucky nodded in response.
She heard the clatter of dishes behind her. She grabbed three orders from the kitchen hatch and placed them on trays for Janie and Meg to deliver. She looked up as Elizabeth Dove came through the front door. Lucky waved to her and pointed to an empty stool. Since Elizabeth had become Mayor of Snowflake, her schedule was so busy that Lucky rarely had a chance to visit and chat with her.
“Early lunch?” Lucky asked. She knew Elizabeth always had breakfast at home and started her day at the municipal offices early.
“Yes. I have a meeting in an hour, but I’m starving now.” Elizabeth smiled. Lucky thought the older woman looked healthy and completely back to normal. A few months before Elizabeth had been held prisoner on the orders of a man she had trusted. Elizabeth looked up at her questioningly. “What is it?”
Lucky smiled widely. “You just look so fantastic.”
“I am perfectly fine.” Elizabeth laughed. “Now stop worrying about me.”
“What can I get you?”
“I’d love to try that new beet and barley soup with maybe a bakery roll?”
“It’s delicious. How about a rosemary roll from Bettie’s Bakery? The flavor would go nicely with that soup.”
“Can I get it to go?” Elizabeth asked.
“Of course.” Lucky placed the order slip on the hatch. She turned back to Elizabeth and leaned over the counter. “So tell me, how is everything?”
“It’s fine . . . I have a meeting about the . . .” Before Elizabeth could complete her sentence, Ernie White slid onto the stool next to her.
“Elizabeth! How are you?” Ernie managed to make his greeting sound as if he were holding court and Elizabeth was a supplicant for his favors.
“I’m fine, Ernie. And you?” Elizabeth’s tone was pleasant but, to Lucky’s ears, distant. She knew Elizabeth’s guard was up. Ernie had the knack of affecting a lot of people that way. And Lucky was sure Ernie’s intent related only to his own agenda, not just to passing the time of day.
“Lucky, I’m glad I caught you.” Something oily and overly friendly in Ernie’s tone raised her hackles. “I’ve been talking to your grandfather about the Spoonful providing food at the festival—you know, a nice little booth. Chance to expose more people to the restaurant. I’d even be willing to negotiate my percentage.”
“Jack’s been over this before with you, Ernie. It’s not worth our while.”
“I’d go sixty-forty with you. Forty for you, sixty for me.”
Lucky was nonplussed. “What part don’t you get, Ernie?”
Elizabeth watched the exchange with amusement.
Lucky glanced over at Jack, who had started to rise from his stool behind the cash register. She shot him a look to let him know she had the situation under control. “Why would we split anything with you? Assuming we even had the staff to run a concession, which we don’t. We’re doing just fine as it is.”
“Well . . .” Ernie smiled. “It wasn’t that long ago you were almost belly up. I wouldn’t be so quick to get on my high horse if I were you.”
Elizabeth was silent, but her eyebrows raised a notch. She was well aware Lucky had a temper, and if Ernie hadn’t already experienced it, he was pushing real hard to expose it.
Lucky’s face flushed deeply. She knew it was happening and couldn’t do much about it. The pitfalls of having such fair skin. “I’ll tell you what, Ernie. I’ll keep your very generous offer in mind. Now, is there anything else you’d like? If not, Jack’s right over there to collect your money.”
Ernie’s face shifted from oily to mean. “Have it your way. But don’t come begging for a shot at a booth next year.” He rose quickly and headed to the cash register, slapping some bills in front of Jack. He walked out the door without another word, the two men in work clothes trailing behind him.
Lucky shuddered. “He just always manages to bring out my worst side. I’m with Jack on that one,” she said to Elizabeth.
“I don’t blame you,” Elizabeth responded. “Seems there’s always a dagger under that insinuating tone. He’s managed to make some enemies since he’s been in Lincoln Falls, or so I’ve heard.”
“I can believe that.” Lucky hesitated. “What did you say? Since he’s been in Lincoln Falls? I thought he was from there originally.”
“I don’t think so. He comes from . . . actually, I don’t really know where he’s from. Someone told me, but I don’t recall offhand. He’s been in Lincoln Falls for maybe five or six years. He’s been very successful, but I don’t think he’s made a lot of friends. The sooner he goes back to wherever he came from, the better, I say.”
Marjorie slid onto the empty stool next to Elizabeth. She stashed the shopping bag she was carrying under the counter at her feet. “Elizabeth. Haven’t seen you for a while. How have you been?”
“Oh, just fine, Marjorie. Where’s your sister today?”
Marjorie pursed her lips. “She’s very busy. Couldn’t make it.”
Lucky’s ears went up. She couldn’t recall a day when the two sisters weren’t together.
Elizabeth picked up her order. “Have to run.” She stood and blew Lucky a kiss. “Marjorie, good to see you too. We’ll have to catch up some other time.” She smiled and walked over to the cash register.
“Tea and a croissant, today?” Lucky asked Marjorie.
“Yes, dear. That would be fine.” Marjorie was never talkative, but today she seemed nervous and upset.
Lucky carried the cup of tea and buttered croissant to the placemat. “Is everything all right?” she asked. Marjorie looked close to tears.
“Oh . . .” Marjorie shrugged her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Cecily isn’t speaking to me right now. We had a terrible row.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Lucky had always noticed the differing personalities between the sisters, but never remembered a disagreement between them.
Marjorie leaned over the counter and whispered, “That man we met here . . . he stopped in at the shop yesterday, just as we were closing. And he asked her to have dinner with him! Can you believe that?” Marjorie’s tone was indignant. “I didn’t say anything in front of him, but I told her later she was taking an awful chance having a date with a strange man.”
“Ah.” Lucky nodded seriously, in what she hoped was a neutral tone.
Marjorie continued. “After all, he’s a complete stranger in town. We really know nothing about him.” Lucky was relieved no one was sitting close to Marjorie who could overhear her remarks. Marjorie took a sip of her tea. “Cecily became very upset with me. And when I reminded her . . . you know, she had a terrible blow years and years ago. She . . .” Marjorie leaned closer. “She was jilted, almost at the altar. Well, not exactly, but another few days and it would have happened that way quite literally. Well, she just blew up at me. That’s the only way I can put it. Told me what she thought of me and my opinion.” Marjorie sniffed back a tear. She looked truly wounded to have her good advice rejected so vehemently.
“I didn’t know. What an awful experience for her to have. I’m so sorry,” Lucky commiserated.
“I realize my sister isn’t like me. I’m perfectly happy as a spinster. Never met a man I would have wanted to share my life with. Who really needs ’em, I say. But Cecily . . . she’s such a trusting soul. I just couldn’t b
ear it if my sister got hurt like that again.”
Lucky was torn. She wanted to remind Marjorie that her sister was a free agent and shouldn’t spend her life in a bubble, but at the same time she could understand an older sister’s desire to protect a vulnerable sibling from hurt. “Oh, oh.” Lucky touched Marjorie’s arm. “Here comes Nate with that insurance investigator in tow.” Joe Conrad had obviously been successful in locating Nate.
Marjorie took a last bite of her croissant. “I’m leaving now.” Without futher ado, she gathered up her shopping bag and purse. “I’d rather not have to deal with the man who caused our argument last night.” She stood and headed for the cash register.
Lucky watched as Nate paused on the sidewalk before coming into the restaurant. He was staring at Ernie White, who stood on the sidewalk talking to the two men who had been with him at the restaurant. Nate leaned toward Conrad and made a remark. Conrad nodded in response, and then together the two men entered the restaurant.
Chapter 12
ONCE THE LUNCH rush died down, Lucky joined Jack, Nate and Joe Conrad at their table where they lingered over coffee. Janie manned the cash register while Meg cleared off the remaining tables.
“I guess you two have already met Joe,” Nate said.
Jack reached across the table to shake Joe’s proffered hand.
“Hello again,” Lucky said. “I see you found Nate.”
“Joe’s been retired for a while, but he was telling me about his last case. Very interesting,” Nate said.
Joe smiled sheepishly. “It’s my ego, or maybe pride, I guess. It just galled me that I had to retire—company policy—before I could close this one out. The young guy that took over my caseload couldn’t do anything with it either.”
“What company are we talking about, Joe?” Jack asked.
“I was with Union Fidelity my whole career. And not to brag too much, but I had a great record as an investigator. All except for this one last case. I guess that’s why I can’t let it go.”
“You think your company might be willing to share their records?” Nate asked.
“I don’t know. I can ask, if you like, but they might want a subpoena to do that.”
“Well, if it turns out this might be related, I’ll give them a call.”
“You have no connection with the company anymore?” Jack asked.
“Nope. But I sure would like to bring this one to them on a silver platter. Not for any reward or anything, but who knows, maybe they’d rethink their strict retirement policy.”
“What’s it about?” Jack asked.
“About seven years ago, there was an armored truck robbery. You may remember it—over at Bennington.”
“I do remember,” Jack said. “It was all over the news.”
“It was pretty terrible. There were two guards on duty in the company’s office early that morning. Another man, dressed in a guard’s uniform with a ski mask, busted in. One of the two guards resisted and was killed. He was a young guy with little kids. Very sad.”
“And they never caught the man who did it?” Lucky asked.
“Nope. Never did. The company had to pay out on the loss after all. What happened was this . . .” Joe said, taking a last sip of his coffee. “It’s pretty definite it wasn’t just the one man involved. It was a pretty secure bunker, so one of the two guards in the facility had to be in on it. Although it took the police a little while to get suspicious of him. He may have even masterminded the heist. What I think, and the police at the time came around to thinking, was that the inside man, one of the guards, turned off the alarm and left the outer door unlocked. The other guard, the young guy who got killed, must have been completely unaware that it was a setup. The police went over his life with a fine-tooth comb, but they never turned up anything suspicious. Nothing to indicate he had been involved.”
Joe looked around the table, sure he had piqued the interest of his listeners. “The intruder had a weapon and ordered the two guards to transfer a shipment of cash to the armored truck out in the lot. They didn’t have much choice, so they followed his orders. Once the cash was loaded, the guy with the gun grabs the keys to the truck and orders the two guards back into the building. It’s early in the day, and there’s no one else around, no other guards on duty. At first, we thought the young guard foolishly decided to be a hero and got shot for his trouble.” Joe shook his head. “After that happened, the man with the weapon took off in the armored truck.”
“Was it the other guard who was the inside guy? Who turned off the alarm?” Lucky asked.
“I believe so. He claimed complete innocence. Said he didn’t know what was happening, but he didn’t turn off the alarm. He said the other guard must have been in on it and was shot by his cohort . . . The more the police sniffed around, the more his story didn’t hold water. He was questioned a few more times, and eventually his version of events didn’t make sense. Sadly, no one thought to do a test for gunpowder on his hands.
“The detectives finally came to the conclusion that the guard who was still alive had to be the inside man. He had turned off the alarm, left the door unlocked and shot his coworker. Possibly the man who broke in with the weapon didn’t shoot at all, maybe because he was never attacked. Maybe . . . and this is just speculation . . . maybe the young guy realized that the other guard had to be in on it. Maybe he said something, maybe he indicated suspicion, who knows? And the inside guy decided to get rid of him. Why leave a witness alive? So, to answer your question, we never found out who the man that drove away with the armored truck was, although I had some ideas.”
“The guard you believed was guilty, did he ever give up the name of his partner?”
“He never did. Initially, with all the commotion, no one checked the remaining guard thoroughly enough. When they finally got suspicious and started to question him, he took off. Disappeared. They later discovered his identity was false. The company wasn’t large, and they were a little sloppy with their due diligence, and this guy was slick. The police later matched his photo to a guy who was wanted in another state for armed robbery.”
“So, if either one of them is found or picked up for some reason, they could still be prosecuted, right?”
“Not unless that happens within the next month.”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked.
“Statute of limitations. There’s a seven-year statute of limitations for robbery in our state. And in another month, it’ll be seven years.”
“But surely not for murder?” Lucky asked.
“That’s right. Not for murder.” Joe nodded.
“Quite a story,” Jack said.
“My company had to pay off on the loss. I know it’s not my job anymore, but I sure would love to see those guys apprehended. You see . . . the young guard who died . . . he was the son of one of my neighbors. So I guess you could say I have a personal interest.”
“That’s why Joe stopped in to see me,” Nate said. “He suspects the man we found on the road might be one of the two responsible for that armored truck heist.”
Jack whistled. “What makes you think that?”
“Long story, but as I mentioned, the guard who disappeared had a record. Getting that job under a false identity was a lot easier to do even just a few years back. So the police started looking at his known associates, looking hard, but nothing led back to any of his partners in crime. They picked up the people who had been involved with him in the past and grilled them, but they never got a thing. It led the police to think that none of them knew anything about this robbery. They never even got a clue where to start looking. Nothing.
“However,” Joe smiled, remembering his glory days, “there was a carnival in town at the time, and I have always suspected we might have found our guy there. Oh, I almost forgot. The armored truck was eventually found in the woods a few months later, and the lab found sawdust and animal hairs. That just confirmed my suspicion. These people move around a lot—travelers I guess you’d call them.
Impossible to trace. By the time the police were ready to start questioning some of those men, they had moved on.” Joe shrugged. “I have a lot of time on my hands these days, and I like to drive around. So I always try to stop at some of these festivals and carnivals around the state in the summer months. I heard about this festival, that’s what brought me to Snowflake. I thought maybe there’d be a chance some of the same people might be working out there at the kiddie rides or the farmers’ market. I’ve always suspected our guy was someone who just wasn’t on the radar in any real way.”
Nate listened silently as Joe talked.
“Nate can’t get a bead on who that guy was they discovered on the road, and Nate thinks . . .” Joe hesitated, looking to Nate for permission to speak further.
“Go right ahead. We’re among friends here,” Nate replied.
“Nate thinks there’s something hinky about that driver’s license. This guy could very well be a traveler—a gypsy.”
“Even if he is, why would you think he was the same man involved in that robbery years ago?” Lucky asked.
Joe Conrad shrugged. “No solid reason. It’s just a hunch. When I heard about a dead man with a bullet wound that nobody knew, my ears went up. Just thought I’d check it out as much as I could. And even if by some long shot the dead man is the same guy, I don’t know what good that would do. Oh, one thing I forgot to mention—there was a witness to what happened, although she was pretty shook up. She was going through an intersection on a green light when the armored truck barreled through. Almost wiped her out. She hit the brakes and managed to avoid the accident. She was in a bit of shock, but she did get a close look as the guy pulled off his ski mask. Eventually she was able to give the police artist enough for a sketch. Here, I’ll show you.”
Joe pulled a well-worn piece of paper out of his inside jacket pocket. A wanted poster showing a black-and-white sketch of a man with a long face, high cheekbones and receding hairline. “How accurate this is, I can’t say, but it was the best we could do at the time. I’ve shown this to Nate.” Joe passed the poster across the table to Jack.
A Roux of Revenge Page 5
