Guidebook to Murder

by Lynn Cahoon

  I wrapped my arms around the little man and hugged him. “Thank you so much!” I squeezed him and then moved over to Kevin. Kevin and I hugged and jumped around in circles.

  “Miss Gardner, I didn’t say the wall was part of the mission,” Frank called over our celebration. “And my filing will only hold the council off while we investigate. If I were you, I’d handle the other issues on the property as quickly as possible.”

  I stopped jumping with Kevin. “I will, Mr. Gleason. I promise.” I skipped back to the kitchen door. I had a lot of items still on my to-do list, but I felt like I’d been given the get-out-of-jail-free card. And first on my list, while Derek moved the extra stuff out of the house, was to finish laundry so I could head over to Lille’s to meet Aunt Jackie for dinner. Fried shrimp night—time to celebrate.

  “I’ve set up your books on a computer accounting system. Don’t look at me that way, it’s easy.” Aunt Jackie pointed at me with her fork. “It’s time you were brought up to date. And the program even links up with your suppliers and will alert you when you need to place an order for coffee or supplies or even books. Of course, I had to purchase some new equipment.”

  I groaned. I had priced setting up a system last fall, but the cost had been out of my reach. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know but asked anyway, “How much did it cost?”

  “Don’t you worry about it. If foot traffic stays up like it’s been the last two weeks, we should have the system paid off in less than a year.” Aunt Jackie took a sip of her wine. “This is good. Did I tell you I talked to the winery owner about doing a joint event? Maybe a murder mystery dinner? Donna’s such a sweetheart.”

  “Darla, the owner’s name is Darla, not Donna.” I sank back in my chair. I guess the money didn’t matter. I had plenty in my account now. But that wasn’t the point. I wanted the store to be successful on its own. Not just because I poured the money Miss Emily left me into new accounting systems. I couldn’t pull away from the house project just yet. Frank Gleason had bought me some time, but as soon as he lost interest in the four-foot section of rock wall, the council would be pushing for the house to be up to standards. And right now, the only standard the house could meet was for a training video for newly hired construction workers on how not to remodel a house.

  “What’s wrong, honey? Did I overstep?” Aunt Jackie refilled my glass of wine.

  “No. I planned on installing a system, so I guess now is as good a time as any.” Tiny pity party over. I’d invited her to help with the coffee shop, and I had to accept Aunt Jackie’s take-over style. I swallowed. “I want to thank you for stepping in like this. I couldn’t have done everything on the house and handled the shop.”

  “I’m glad to help. I was going to wait a couple of weeks, but since you brought up the subject, I’ll ask now.” She leaned closer over the table.

  God, now what? Did she want to start an adult section in the basement? I plastered a smile on my face and asked, “What did you want to ask?”

  “You know I’ve been traveling a lot since I retired. And I love it, I do. But living in San Francisco’s so overwhelming. There were three breakins on my block last week. And you are so happy in the new house. So I wondered …” She took a sip of wine.

  “I don’t understand.” I didn’t know where this conversation was going, but I had a bad feeling I wouldn’t like it.

  “Well, you don’t have to work anymore, and I just need a little pin money, so it works out perfect.” Jackie sat back, waiting for an answer.

  “Wait? You want to stay on at the store? After I get the house done?” My mind reeled. I loved my aunt. Especially in small doses. But to have her in the same town, working for me at the shop? I’d probably have to kill her. “But you love to travel.”

  “And I still would. Just not as much.” Jackie leaned forward. “Jill, I’ve loved running the shop. I didn’t want to tell you, but they are selling my building. Refurbishing it for new condos. They offered to sell me my apartment, but I don’t have that kind of money. Not since the Wall Street thing. Since I have to move anyway, why not move here and do something I love?”

  This was the first time Jackie had ever mentioned a money problem. Uncle Ted had left her well off. I mean the wealthy kind of well off. If she couldn’t afford to buy her apartment, her money situation had gone further south than I’d realized.

  “What about the money Uncle Ted left you?” As long as we were talking, it was time to get it all on the table.

  Aunt Jackie wiggled in her chair and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “They told me it was a sure investment. That everyone was raking in cash from this guy. I guess I was just one of the last ones to be fooled.”

  “It’s all gone?” For the first time ever, my aunt looked her age, a small, defeated seventy-year-old.

  “Not all, I didn’t put all my eggs in one basket. But the other investments went down, too, so now I’m just trying to hold on while they build back up. And living in the city is just so expensive.” She pleaded. “Please, Jill? Let me move into the apartment? I’d pay rent.”

  “Of course you can stay.” I might not like it, but I wasn’t going to let her live on the street. “I’ve moved out most of Miss Emily’s extra furniture that I’m not keeping. I’ll hire movers to get my stuff out of the apartment so you can move in.”

  “Thank you.” Aunt Jackie finished her wine. “Shall we have some dessert to celebrate our new arrangement?”

  “Why not?” I chirped. I wasn’t great at hiding my feelings, but I did a better job with a piece of chocolate mud cake in front of me. I had gained a business partner for the shop and lost my apartment in the last two hours. I’d better make Miss Emily’s house meet council standards or I was going to be the one homeless.

  As soon as I got in the door, I knew I was too keyed up to sleep. When had my life gotten this crazy? Before Miss Emily’s death, my biggest worry had been how much coffee to order or which book to read. Now I juggled construction, worrying about Amy, trying to make the house my home, and now, figuring out how to work with my aunt without killing her or myself in the process. And, oh yeah, trying to solve Miss Emily’s murder before my own personal stalker made good on his threats.

  At least I didn’t have to deal with Greg today. He’d been oddly absent, not even a phone call to check on me. I checked the answering machine I had just set up in the den, no messages. My gut wrenched just a little. I wasn’t missing him; I had no claim on the detective. But a message would have been nice.

  I powered up my computer, deciding to work on my business plan and how adding a partner would change the goals of the business. I’d already planned out the projections for the coffee shop for the next five years, so it would take a while to rework the document. But having it done would make me feel better.

  I headed to the kitchen to put the kettle on to heat. Herbal tea, something calming, definitely not coffee or I’d never get to sleep tonight. While I waited for the kettle to whistle, I noticed the envelope I had thrown on the table that afternoon. Sealed super-tight with a double roll of packing tape surrounding the clasp. I’d need scissors to open that bad boy.

  I carried the unopened envelope back to the office with my cup of orange zest tea; probably not the best choice to help me sleep, but I liked it. Digging in the desk drawer, I found the scissors and sliced open the packet. A bundle of letters still in their original envelopes had been banded together with several rubber bands. A single sheet of paper slid out with the bundle.

  Miss Gardner,

  Here are the letters we discussed over the phone. I can’t tell you what you’ll find because I could never bring myself to read them. I want to remember Mary as the woman who loved me, not just her second choice. I leave the disposition of the letters in your hands. I do not wish to have them returned. If you feel that Crystal should have them for Annie, please forward them on. Otherwise, you are free to destroy them.

  Henry Williams

  I’d forgotten that Henry was sending me some
thing. Letters, the only way at the time to communicate between California and the army camps in Vietnam. Letters were a way to stay in touch that wouldn’t be erased by deleting a quick e-mail or video chat. As much as I loved my computer, I wondered if I would ever know the joy of getting a letter from someone I loved, being able to pour over its contents time and time again, to feel the paper that he touched, and to know he took the time to share his day.

  I quickly sorted through the envelopes and stacked them according to postmark, the oldest one first. Feeling like a voyeur, I folded open the first letter and began to read.

  Mary,

  It’s been less than twenty-four hours since we parted, and the taste of your kiss is still on my lips. Last week was honestly the best week of my life. I had thought I’d lost you when I left the last time, me being a jerk and telling you to date other people because I would be dating. Then I realized I didn’t want to date other girls. I only wanted to be with you. But by the time I’d gotten out of boot camp and had five minutes to think about what I wanted my life after this hell to look like, you were gone.

  Now, don’t get me wrong, Henry’s a great guy. I know he took care of you when I didn’t. But, Mary, you and I are destiny. You are the Juliet to my Romeo. And you thought I never listened during Miss Hastings’s class. And I’m so happy and proud you chose me.

  I’m signing off now to write my mom and tell her all about you. She was kind of upset that I didn’t spend more time with her at the house while I was home. But she’ll understand when I tell her our news.

  Hold me close to your heart and wish me home.

  Love always,

  Bob

  No wonder Mary kept these letters for all these years. And in a way, I was glad Henry never read them. This was a part of Mary that she held private. And I could respect that. Are we destined to be with only one person? Is there a soul mate out there for each of us? I didn’t know. What I did know was in all the relationships I had been in, no one had ever moved me the way this letter had tonight. Maybe I settled too easily, wanting love at any cost.

  Miss Emily’s words from our first chat on the porch came back to me: “You have to find yourself before you find the one.”

  The clock on the computer screen showed it was after midnight. Time to call it a day. I turned off the computer and the downstairs lights. Checking the locks on the front door and the kitchen door, I headed up the stairs, alone. Tonight I wanted a companion. If I was going to follow Miss Emily’s advice and find myself, I needed a dog to help me through the long nights waiting for the time to be right to find my Romeo. She’d been a smart woman.

  The sounds of nail guns and men shouting woke me the next morning.

  Just a few more weeks and the construction would be done. I hoped. Today, I was heading back to the home supply store for paint for the living room. I’d stop at the furniture store, as well. The room screamed for new furniture. And after last night, I knew if I didn’t spend the money Miss Emily left me, Aunt Jackie was more than willing to take on the task.

  Once the living room was done, I’d be moving upstairs. The bathroom on the main floor needed more attention than I and my do-it-yourself remodel skills could provide. And the thought of having a remodel team inside the house as well as outside made my head spin. I’d tackle the bathroom some other time.

  I hurried and dressed in capris and a tank, Slipping on my sandals, I grabbed my bag and notebook with the room measurements Derek and I had spent yesterday afternoon getting down. I locked the back door and was just about to walk out the front to my Jeep when a knock on the door surprised me. I swung open the door to find Greg.

  “Hey, there you are. I thought you’d given up on protecting me,” I joked. “I’m on my way to Bakerstown. Want to tag along?”

  Greg was quiet. Too quiet. “Jill, the tox screens came back from Miss Emily. She was poisoned.”

  The weight of his words hung on me. I walked over to the rockers on the porch and sat down, dropping my purse to the wooden slats. “I knew she didn’t just die.” Tears fell down my face.

  “I’m sorry.” Greg sat down in the rocker next to me. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Doc Ames got the results yesterday, and I’ve been running between here and Bakerstown since. Miss Emily didn’t have any history of heart problems or physical evidence during autopsy. In fact, Doc Ames said she was too healthy to be dead on his table. That’s what convinced him to run the tox screen.”

  I only half-listened. It was funny that the news was affecting me so hard, since I had been the one to press Greg into looking more deeply into her cause of death. I had known, deep down, I had always known. “So, what happened?”

  “She had an extremely high dosage of an herbal supplement called ma huang. Or ephedra. They haven’t nailed the exact source down. But the lab guys think it was served in her evening tea.”

  “Miss Emily didn’t believe in supplements. Called them new wave hooey. I don’t think she even took vitamins.”

  “I have the entire contents of her medicine cabinet back at the office. We’ve been going through everything to find a match. So far, nothing.”

  “Do you have any leads? Any suspects?”

  “I checked out Crystal’s alibi yesterday. She was working at the time Miss Emily would have taken the final dose, according to Doc Ames. Her boss confirmed the date and time. And so was her new boyfriend. We’ve ruled them out.” Greg put his forearms on his legs and leaned forward.

  “What about Eric or Bambi or the mayor?” Crystal might have been the number-one suspect on Greg’s list, but she had already been removed from mine. “Where were they?”

  “We’re checking their stories, but right now, I need to ask you to come with me.” Greg held out his hand.

  “Come with you where?” I didn’t like the sound of this. “I have to get to Bakerstown and pick up the paint for the living room.”

  “You have to come down to City Hall and answer a few questions.” Greg’s face contorted. “Look, it’s not my decision. Mayor Baylor threatened to turn the investigation over to the state cops if I don’t bring you in.”

  Anger flooded my body. “Really? You and your friend the mayor think I killed Miss Emily? Someone you didn’t even know existed before she wound up dead and ruined your weekend fishing trip?”

  “Don’t make this hard.” Greg’s voice got cold.

  I stared up at him. I suspected he was mad. But I didn’t care. Rather than find out who killed Miss Emily, he was dragging me down to the station for questioning. I slung my purse over my shoulder. My eyes welled with tears. I couldn’t believe this was even happening. I motioned for him to leave and I’d follow. I didn’t trust my voice.

  “You’ll be done in no time. And then this stupid idea that you killed her will be put to rest.” Greg put his hand on my back as we walked to his truck.

  I wasn’t sure that this would ever be done. Innocent people went to jail all the time.

  Chapter 18

  My first thought was I should call Jimmy Marcum and have him meet me at the police station. My second thought was how much I hated Greg King right now.

  Greg opened the truck door and helped me in. “Seriously, Jill, it’s going to be all right. Don’t look so scared.”

  I wasn’t going to talk until we got to the station.

  I wanted some sort of record of my words so I could have proof I didn’t confess. I couldn’t believe Greg would do this to me. After all the time we spent together, he was still a cop. And I was his suspect.

  Greg kept glancing at me while we drove. Finally he gave up trying to say anything and turned up the music.

  When we reached City Hall, I got out of the truck on my own and headed to the side door, where the police office was located.

  “Hold on, we’re going in here.” Greg pointed to the front doors that led directly to the mayor’s office. I hadn’t been there since Amy had disappeared. Bambi sat at Amy’s desk, reading the most recent Smithsonian magazine.

>   “Hey, it’s the coffee lady.” Bambi tucked the magazine under a copy of Vogue. Proper office attire for Bambi seemed to be a low-cut passion pink jumper with leopard print stiletto heels. I wouldn’t be surprised if the shoes had been real leopard skin. “Your aunt’s ordering supplements just for my lattes. I can’t wait until we get back to civilization.”

  “We have an appointment to see the mayor,” Greg announced. “Is he ready?”

  “You know that Esmeralda always gets the first appointment of the day. I’m sure they’ll be done soon.” Bambi scanned Greg’s body like it was a three-course dinner. “Now, don’t you look especially yummy today? When are you going to come over to the hotel and see me?”

  Greg glanced at me and shifted his shoulders. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Why not, sugar pie?” Bambi broke off a piece of blueberry muffin and handfed it to Precious, who sat on top of Amy’s desk. When Amy got back, if she came back, she would have to disinfect this entire office. Greg’s face turned beet red.

  “Yeah, why not?” I chided. From the casualness of their banter, Greg and Bambi had been spending some quality time together. My gut tightened.

  “Because I don’t want to become shark bait if your boyfriend found out.” He glanced at me. “I’m kind of seeing someone anyway.”

  “Well, isn’t that a shame. Any time you change your mind, though, you just let Bambi know. I bet we’d have a real good time.” The sound of the mayor’s office door opening cut off Bambi’s offer of companionship and other things.

  Esmeralda floated out of the office, her black cat cuddled in her arms. City Hall was becoming pet central. The fortune-teller stopped short when she saw me. “Jill, my dear, how have you been? Oh, that was a silly question coming from me. I see you’re with your match.” She pointed toward Greg.

  “What do you mean, my match?”

  Esmeralda put her free hand on my arm. “Trust in the process. The sun will rise tomorrow. And you will be happy. I’ve seen this in my visions.”