She lowered her gaze to her plate instead and picked up another mini-hot dog.
“Uh oh,” Amy said, and nudged Heather’s elbow.
Her fingers scraped the mini-treats from her paper plate. “What on earth?”
“Carla’s got company.”
Heather looked back at Mrs. Guidi.
Amy wasn’t wrong.
Arlo stood beside his sister now, and placed his hand on her arm. She didn’t look up from the phone, but tension radiated from her.
“She looks like she’s about to snap,” Amy said.
Arlo spoke but Heather couldn’t catch a word of it. She put down her paper plate on the end of the table, then strolled down its length, toward the siblings. She kept her gaze fixed on them.
Carla wrenched her arm from Arlo’s grip. “I told you to stop,” she shrieked.
Gasps from the crowd of mourners and an awkward silence fell.
Heather reached the edge of the table, within hearing range.
“Be reasonable, Carla. We need to talk about this. You can’t just ignore the problem until it goes away.”
“You’re my problem,” she replied, once again, loud enough for everyone to hear.
People stared and Arlo’s cheeks turned bright red.
“I wouldn’t ask unless it was absolutely necessary. You’re in a position to help, now. Do you understand? Francesca needs your help,” he said. He grabbed her by the shoulder again and didn’t let go.
This had gone far enough. If someone didn’t stop it soon, it’d get out of hand. This wasn’t how Chef Guidi would want to be remembered.
Heather hurried across the dry grass and halted in front of the brother and sister. “Is everything all right here?”
“Fine,” Arlo said, and let go of his sister. “Everything’s fine.”
Who was Francesca? Heather couldn’t help but wonder. Could she have been involved in the murder?
“Everything is not fine,” Carla spat. She focused on Heather and narrowed her eyes. “And you’re making it worse. Back off.”
“Carla, stop,” Arlo said. “You can’t take out your grief on her.”
“I lost my husband and you think this is the right time to talk to me about Francesca? About any of this?” Carla shrieked. She grabbed two handfuls of her hair and tugged. “And you.” She glared at Heather. “You with your questions and your unethical investigations.”
Oh no. Not this again. “Carla, I’m just trying to help. Why don’t you two talk about this inside?”
“It’s not your place to help,” Arlo said, in a low growl, his dark eyebrows drawn together. “This is a family matter. If you’ve got questions for Carla, you can ask them at a later –”
“She’s a flake!” Carla threw her arms up. “She’s a bad investigator. It says so in the papers. I don’t want to talk to her.”
Heather’s anger bubbled beneath the surface again, but she kept it in check. She couldn’t afford to lose her cool again. Carla was in a state. This reaction wasn’t her fault.
“I’m sorry you feel –”
Carla’s hand flew downward. The smack of skin on skin shattered the murmurs in the crowd of onlookers. Stinging pain spread across Heather’s cheek. She pressed her palm to the throbbing spot.
“Carla,” Arlo breathed. He grabbed his sister by the arm and dragged her backward.
“Let go of me, Arlo! Let go.”
“I am so sorry, Mrs. Shepherd,” Arlo said. He guided his sister through the garden and toward the back of the house.
Everyone stared at them. The minute they disappeared inside, they turned and stared at Heather instead.
Ames rushed up beside her. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Heather said, for the hundredth time that week. “I’m just fine. But I think it’s high time we leave.”
“I don’t understand this. If Carla hates you so much, why did she invite you to the memorial service?” Amy asked.
Heather looked up at the house, curtains drawn in the windows. She dropped her arm to her side and the rush of cold air against her sensitive skin made her wince. “I have no idea. But I’ll find out.”
Chapter 10
Heather opened her front door and trudged inside. She locked up behind herself and groaned.
She’d never felt this icky in her entire life, including the time she’d had to track down a woman who’d murdered in self-defense.
Her cheek didn’t sting anymore, but the stares, the gasps, oh my, they were burned into her memory for all time.
She dumped her tote bag on the entrance hall table and blinked at her reflection in the mirror which she’d positioned just above it.
“What a terrible idea,” she said, and tucked stray strands of hair behind either ear. “Who wants to see how bad they look when they come home?”
Dave’s paws pattered down the hall. He let off an excited bark and Cupcake streaked after him, purring all the way.
At least someone was happy to see her.
Goodness, she’d need to start a pity party at this rate. It’d been a mistake to approach Carla at the memorial service. She should’ve known better. A part of Heather had wanted to console her, even though it hadn’t been her place.
Heather dropped into a crouch and ruffled Dave’s ears. “Hello, gorgeous. How was your day?”
Dave whined and wagged his tail, then licked her wrists. Cupcake wound between them and rubbed up against Heather’s knees.
Footsteps stomped up the stairs behind them and the door swung inward. Finally, Ryan and Lilly had arrived home. She could decompress and forget all about –
“Mom.” Lilly’s voice wavered with emotion.
Heather snapped upright, immediately. “What’s the matter?” She turned to her daughter.
Lilly flew into her arms and hugged her tight, then buried her face in Heather’s blouse.
“What’s going on?”
Ryan sighed and dropped his keys on the table beside Heather’s bag. “Apparently, there was an article published online today on the Hillside Reporter’s site? Some kids got wind of it.”
“What type of article?” Heather asked.
“It’s about you,” Ryan said. “About you getting slapped at a memorial service because you harassed the Guidi widow.”
Heather’s stomach sank into the soles of her feet. For heaven’s sake. That wasn’t what’d happened at all. She’d tried to help.
“The kids at school teased me about it,” Lilly said, then finally broke the embrace. “And when I argued back and told them they were wrong, they played a video of you being slapped. People are already making it into a meme.”
“What’s a meme?” Ryan asked.
“It’s an internet thing,” Heather said. “You know, like a picture with text? One does not simply? Never mind.” Someone had recorded them at the Guidi home. But who?
Heather dropped down and placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this, Lils. I never meant for any of this to happen or to affect you.”
“No,” Lilly said, and shook her head, fiercely. “This is not your fault. I know what type of person you are and I won’t let people say bad things about you.”
“It might be better just to keep quiet about this at school, Lils,” Ryan said.
“No, dad. No. I won’t let people talk about mom like that. I know the truth and I’ll keep saying it even if they don’t like it.” Lilly folded her arms across her chest. A single tear clung to her lashes but she was done crying.
“All right,” Heather said. “Go upstairs and get cleaned up for dinner. I’ll call you down in a few.” She pecked Lilly on the cheek then rose from her crouch.
Lils, Dave and Cupcake headed off up the stairs together, their collective footsteps filling the home with noise.
Ryan rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Why did she slap you?” He asked.
“Arlo tried manhandling her and I wanted to help. She got angry with me. Sh
e called me unethical.”
“What? Why?” Ryan asked, and dropped his hands. “It’s the newspaper thing isn’t it? This Lemon guy?”
“That’s right,” Heather said. “Apparently, everyone in Hillside believes I’m a vigilante.” She gave a bitter laugh. “But, you know what? I don’t want to talk about any of this tonight. I just want to relax with my family.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said, and walked over to her. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry, hon. We know the real you. The people that count will stand by you until the end.”
“Oh goodness, I almost forgot about our dinner with Ames and Jamie tonight,” Heather said.
“I didn’t. We’ll take Lilly to Eva’s after dinner. Don’t worry,” he said. “Tonight’s going to be a good night. You can relax.”
Heather wanted to believe him.
Chapter 11
“Here we are,” Heather said, and unbuckled her seatbelt. She opened her car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk outside Eva Schneider’s house.
Lilly clambered out of the back seat. She shouldered her bag and smiled up at her mom. “I’m going to be fine,” she said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I know, but I can see you’re worried, mom. I promise, I’ll be fine. I’m going to write a story about it. Or hey, maybe I’ll write my own article for the school paper.” She patted her bag which contained her pink typewriter. She took it everywhere with her, except to school, of course.
Heather drew her daughter into a hug and kissed her on the top of her head.
Ryan came around the other side of the car clutching the end of Dave’s leash in one hand and Cupcake’s the other. “Here you go,” he said.
Lilly took the animals, then hurried up to the front of the house. “Bye,” she yelled, over her shoulder. She loved her time at Eva’s. It was hard enough tearing her away from her typewriter without Mrs. Schneider in the equation.
Lils reached the front door, knocked once, then disappeared inside. Eva fluttered a wave at them before closing up again.
“Ready for our date?” Ryan asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Heather replied. She couldn’t get excited about appearing in front of the residents of Hillside at Dos Chicos.
Ryan let himself into the passenger seat of the car and Heather got in the driver’s side. She turned the keys in the ignition.
“Just before we go,” Ryan said, and placed his hand on her arm. “I’ve got to tell you about what happened today with Gene Clemens.”
“The mystery man,” Heather said. “I wish I could’ve been there.”
“I know, love, but there was a reason I asked you to stay out of it. We had a warrant for his arrest. I brought him down to the station for questioning,” Ryan said.
“Wow. What happened?”
“Well, Gene told us an interesting story. You see, we found his prints on the back door and handle at Bella Vita’s, but nowhere else in the kitchen itself,” Ryan said.
“Okay?” Heather switched off the engine and focused on her husband. “What does that mean?”
“It means he was there but we can’t nail down an exact timeline which actually places him in the kitchen itself,” Ryan replied.
Heather bobbed her head. “That makes sense. So, what did Mr. Clemens say?” She hadn’t gotten the chance to Google the guy between the memorial service, the confusion after the slap, Donut Delights and her arrival at home.
“Mr. Clemens, as it turns out, is a businessman. Like I said, he did time for fraud. Basic scam stuff, but still bad enough to get him put away for a couple years. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy when detectives rocked up on his doorstep.”
Heather squished around in her seat and grabbed the seatbelt for support.
“Clemens lives up in Houston.”
“The same place Guidi came from,” Heather said.
“Correct. Clemens was Guidi’s business partner. They owned another Italian style restaurant up in Houston, but business dealings went bad.”
“Bad how?” Heather asked.
“Guidi stole money from Clemens, who was the main financial backer, and disappeared,” Ryan said.
“The two hundred thousand.”
“That’s right. Now, Clemens says the money was totally legit and that he’d planned on investing it into two restaurants, the one with Guidi and another venture,” Ryan said. “But Guidi disappeared with the money before he got the chance.”
“Wait, how did Guidi even have access to the money?”
“He had access to the bank details, since they were business partners. He transferred the sum directly to his account,” Ryan said. “We confirmed all of this through the paper trail, so to speak.”
Heather let it all sink in for a minute. She pressed her lips together and released them slowly. “Okay, so Clemens followed Guidi down here to get his money back. That gives him motive.”
“And we have his prints at the crime scene.”
“But?”
“But he has a rock solid alibi for that night. He was at his hotel and we’ve got video footage of him entering hours before the murder, and even a shot of him in the lobby getting a coffee from the machine minutes before the murder occurred. He’s not our guy.”
Heather’s hopes deflated like a punctured balloon. She sagged against her chair. “Shoot,” she said. “But this did give us information about Guidi, at least.”
“Exactly. He clearly wasn’t as nice as people made him out to be,” Ryan said.
Heather started the car, then pulled on her seatbelt and clicked it into place. Ryan followed her example.
“Okay, so Gene Clemens, the mystery man, isn’t our killer. I guess it was a longshot, anyway,” Heather said. “And if he wasn’t, that leaves the door wide open.”
“Excuse the pun,” Ryan said. “We have to narrow down our suspect list, here. The minute we do that, everything will get easier.”
Heather checked her mirrors, then reversed out of her spot and drove off. Amy and Jamie – ha, that rhymed – were probably at the restaurant, right now, waiting.
Along with the rest of the Hillside diners.
Heather swallowed at the thought. Goodness, she’d never dreaded a dinner date before.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” Ryan asked.
“I’m sure,” she replied. She’d considered rushing over to Kate’s store and confronting the woman, but it wouldn’t help matters. No doubt, that would end up in the headlines too, and make her look even worse.
Heather gritted her teeth, focused on the road, and pushed her fears aside.
Chapter 12
Music shimmied between the tables in Dos Chicos – a vibrant salsa which had a lot of the diners on their feet on the dance floor, partaking in a little shimmy of their own. The live band strummed their guitars, and beat the drums, the singer crooned. The atmosphere couldn’t have been more perfect.
Except for the frequent glanced toward Heather’s table in the corner.
“It’s like you’re Harry Potter,” Amy said. “Except you don’t have the cool scar.”
“I loved those books,” Jamie said, then cleared his throat. “As a kid, I mean.”
“Try not to pay any attention to it,” Ryan said, and squeezed Heather’s arm. “Do you want to sit next to the wall, instead?”
“No thanks,” Heather said. She’d have to deal with the negative attention sooner or later. This way, she’d get used to it and shake it off tomorrow morning in the store.
Ryan took a sip of his soda and smiled at Jamie. “So, Amy hasn’t told us too much about you,” he said.
“Oh, okay,” Jamie replied, and gulped down some of his soda. His wide jaw sported stubble, but he’d dressed up for the occasion in a buttoned cotton shirt and a tie. “I worked at the local pet store. I was an assistant there. I’ve also worked as a receptionist and, yeah –”
“Okay, so what do you do now?” Ryan asked.
<
br /> “Honey, we’re not in the interrogation room,” Heather said, and tickled him on the underside of his forearm.
He winked at her.
“No, it’s all right,” Jamie said. “I’m currently working with Geoff Lawless. He’s a great guy. He owns a –”
“Pet grooming salon,” Heather finished. “You’re kidding. You work for Geoff? How’s he doing? I haven’t heard from him in ages.”
“He’s good. Quiet, but good. He’s been very patient with me since I started. I love working with animals, but I’ve never groomed before,” Jamie said, and flicked back his dark fringe.
Heather smiled her encouragement, then snatched a nacho from the sharing plate in the center of the table. Amy grabbed a couple too, and they both crunched them down.
Ames had been pretty quiet since they’d sat down.
Heather anticipated a nervous call after the double date. No doubt, she’d want a verdict on what they thought of her beau.
“Tell us more about you, Jamie,” Heather said.
“I grew up in a small town, but not this one,” he said, “and I never went to college. I didn’t even finish high school. I want to go back some time and do it, though, when I have the time and the money for it.”
“Why didn’t you finish school?” Heather asked. “Sorry, that was insensitive.”
“No, that’s okay,” Jamie said. “My dad left when I was young and when I was sixteen years old, my mom got sick. I left school to look after her. I was twenty when she passed.”
“Jamie, I’m so sorry,” Heather said, and reached for her soda.
“No, it’s all right. That’s way in the past. I had a good childhood in comparison to a lot of kids and I couldn’t be happier now,” he said, and grabbed hold of Amy’s hand. He squeezed it tight.
Ames’ pressed her lips together but she couldn’t hide the joyous smile which forced them apart again.
“You should come to the store some time,” Heather said. “We’ll all sit down for donuts.”
“That would be awesome,” Jamie said, and reached for some nachos.
Heather sat back and let the conversation wash over her. She couldn’t shake the strange sensation that she’d missed an important fact with the case. It was the middle of the week and the most they had was an angry wife and a missing murder weapon.
Raspberry Coulis Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy - Book 38 (Donut Hole Cozy Mystery) Page 4
