A Tiny Bite of Murder

by Constance Barker

  “Yeah, Gabriel is a cheap son-of-a-gun.”

  I flinched. “Huh, what does that mean?”

  Jaxon replied, “It was clear Gabriel would never give anyone an advance or what amounts to a signing bonus. He was trying to hire Holly, but he didn’t pay her any money.”

  Andrew huffed. “That’s real interesting. Emery got a little funny when we asked about the money. It felt to me like he was surprised to hear we knew about it. Which meant he knows about her windfall, too.”

  I stared at Andrew. “I better be more careful around you in the future. I had no idea you could read people so well. But I got the same impression.”

  Jaxon licked his fingers. “This place makes the best croissants. That hit the spot.”

  Daisy came over to see what was going on. Andrew held out his arms and Daisy climbed into his lap. Andrew made a weird sound as Daisy plopped down in his lap. “Man, she is heavier than you think. That hurt!”

  Jaxon laughed. “You make a good couple.”

  Andrew glared back in response.

  I smiled at Andrew then turned to Jaxon. “Well, you got some office time while we talked to Emery, did you do anything other than call Gabriel?”

  “Yeah, I called my financial guy. He said he would call me back. He is overdue. So he should call any minute.”

  The front door opened and Jessica and Mike walked into the tea room. They waved and came over to join us. “We thought there was a chance we would find you here. Glad we did. We have something to tell you.” Jessica smiled ear to ear after she finished.

  Mike sighed. “Man this guy wrote a lot of reviews. But we found something you might call odd. We used a couple of different search tools to dig up what we could. Dennis even found some pretty neat search tools. Come to think of it, my son and I are going to have a talk about how he knows how to use the computer so well. Thank goodness we put the parental lock on it!”

  Jessica snorted. “He’s a thirteen year old boy. Kids these days know how to use a computer like they know how to breathe. It just comes natural to them.”

  Mike laughed, kissed Jessica on the cheek, then smugly said, “We're still having a talk.”

  Jaxon cleared his throat. “Not to be rude, but what did you find?”

  Jessica took a seat. “We thought we were done. It’s kind of hard to find all the articles a syndicated journalist writes because the same article runs in so many different newspapers. So you have to weed out duplicates, and we tried. But during one last search of a series of articles written about six months ago, articles came up with a different journalist’s name. And we remembered what you said about Emery, that he might be plagiarizing material. So I typed a few of the names of restaurants reviewed by Emery and included the word ‘review.’ And guess what, different versions of the same article came up, with the only difference being the name of the journalist.”

  Jaxon leaned on the table. “Plagiarism is a serious violation of journalistic ethics. So who was copying from whom?”

  Jessica spoke quickly. “We asked the same question. And from what we can tell, it may have been this guy Emery. The other authors did not seem to be associated with articles written by someone else, but Emery had a pattern where many of his articles also appeared with another name. I’m not saying we can prove it, but the pattern suggests Emery was cutting corners.”

  Someone laughed, and I glared at the culprit. “What’s so funny about that, Jaxon?”

  He paused then simply said, “Flo.”

  I recoiled a bit. “Flo? What does that mean?”

  Jaxon wagged his hand as he answered. “Flo was the waitress that heard Emery and Holly arguing. Remember, Matt told us about it.”

  I glanced up to think. “Yeah, he said they were arguing about, oh my goodness, deadlines. Emery was having trouble getting his articles in on time. And borrowing someone’s article would sure speed things up to meet those deadlines.”

  Jaxon tucked in his chin a touch and raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed, you did pay attention.”

  Andrew said, “Wait, I’m getting confused. So we think Emery may have paid Holly. And now we’re thinking he plagiarized articles? Sounds like he is more shady than we thought.”

  Jaxon nodded, “Yes, you’re right. It’s not a solid motive, but it’s moving closer to a motive with what we just learned. And Emery had means and opportunity in spades.”

  I added, “We also learned that Emery ordered his meals ahead of time. So he would have known there was a salad course to be served at dinner. Combined with the knowledge Holly was allergic to the sesame oil, and the phone call where she turned away, Emery had the means and opportunity. And now a motive is starting to form. Hmmm.”

  Mike cut in. “I’m not saying anything, but is it legal for you to poke around in this? I mean the police are investigating and if we did figure something out, do we have to take it to the police?”

  Jaxon answered. “That’s a judgment call, but I can tell you from experience that you know when to call the police. We are not there yet, but if the motive for Emery continues to become more solid, then yeah, we should call them. And I am a licensed private investigator, so we’re not breaking any laws.”

  Mike’s demeanor became timid. “Oops. I forgot about that. That makes sense. I felt like the FBI was going to knock our doors in as we pulled that information on Emery from the internet.”

  Jaxon laughed. “What? For looking up articles written by a food critic? I think you’re safe.”

  Jessica laughed too. “That is what I kept telling him. He is such a worrier.”

  Jaxon’s phone skittered on the table top and sounded like a bee. He picked it up and answered. After listening for a minute, he said thanks and hung up. “You aren’t going to believe this. Emery made the payments, not one, but a few, to Holly. It was Emery.”

  Mike gasped. “Wow, so are we there yet? Should we call the police?”

  Jaxon closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Let me think a moment.”

  Andrew let out a deep sigh. “I’ve been thinking, too. You ruled out an accident for lack of evidence. Okay. So that means someone did this and you whittled your list down to four people, but are pretty sure that two are most likely, Emery and his rival food critic Gabriel. But you left out one scenario. Maybe, one tried to frame the other.”

  We all stared at Andrew with jaws wagging.

  Andrew shrugged. “Why are you all looking at me like that? I’ve been paying attention and it’s a good question.”

  Jaxon chuckled and sat up straight. “Yes it is. I wondered about that a couple of times, but we don’t really have anything that points to a frame job.”

  Jessica said, “Well, it sounds like a possibility and how do you know if you don’t look?”

  Jaxon nodded in agreement. “I agree. I have a ton of questions about this money Holly came into. And I know that my financial guy said it came from Emery. But those records can be tweaked if you know what you're doing. I ruled that out because food critics are unlikely to know banking that well. But, Raine, what’s the first thing I told you?”

  “Assume nothing.”

  Jaxon pointed at me. “Correct. So what do we do now?” Silence, no one answered and he continued. “We go back and tell Emery we think he is being framed. See how he responds to the news. It will tell us a lot.”

  I took a deep breath. “We just talked to him. He might not talk to us again. He might get annoyed.”

  Jaxon smiled. “So be it. I can work with that.”

  I shrugged. “Alright. So who goes to talk with him? Andrew and I just came back from questioning him.”

  Jaxon shifted in his seat. “Me, you, and Rothko.”

  Again the group was silent, except for Andrew who was laughing. Mike said, “Who is Rothko?”

  Andrew answered. “I think the flatfoot meant me. Rothko is a famous painter.”

  Mike nodded. “I get it, and you are covered in paint.”

  Jaxon stood. “The three of us
need to go back and talk to Emery. After we talk to him, I think we might get to the bottom of this if it goes the way I think it might.”

  Jessica’s eyes widened. “Ooo, that sounds exciting. I wish we could go. And what do you expect to happen.”

  Jaxon chuckled. “I don’t expect anything. I don’t assume. But if we do this right, we might push him to blurt something out.”

  Mike interrupted, “You can’t handle the truth!”

  Jaxon laughed. “Yeah. I guess in a way, it is like Cruise cross examining Nicholson at the end of that movie. Except I'm not going work myself up into a frothy rage like Cruise did to get Nicholson to crack.”

  Andrew mumbled, “That would be fun to see though.”

  Jaxon glared at Andrew. “I heard that. And there are other ways to goad a man into spilling the truth. The timing feels right, too. Let’s go find Emery and do this thing.”

  I said, “Well, we just came back from the tourist center. Let’s go see if he is still there talking to Twain.”

  Andrew, Jaxon, and I stood. Jaxon collected his phone, then pointed at the laptop and locked eyes with Grandma. “Can I leave this here? Will you keep an eye on this stuff?” He waved his hand over the papers on the table next to the laptop.

  Grandma waved her hand. “That’s fine. Leave it there overnight if you need to, it should be okay.”

  Then Jaxon’s face became stern. “Let’s get this over with.” The three of us then made for the door and headed out to talk with Emery a second time.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Andrew, Jaxon and I hurried back over to the visitor’s center, but from a distance we could see the porch was empty. So we climbed the stairs and entered the office. Mr. Twain was reading a book. Jaxon said, “Hello. Surprised to see you reading something not written by Twain.”

  Mr. Twain stared back at Jaxon while he closed the book and put it on the desk. “Raine, Andrew, nice to see you again. And what can I do for you, young man?”

  “We were wondering where Emery is?”

  Mr. Twain turned his gaze to me. “Why, you just talked to him. And he left soon after. Upset from the conversation. He didn’t like answering your questions.”

  I nodded. “I know. But there is something off about all this and we're hoping he can help clear it up.”

  Andrew wandered over to examine the typewriter. “This is a beauty. Just like the one my grandmother use to have. The Underwood No. 5 has become hard to find in working condition, but this beauty fits you to a T.”

  Mr. Twain studied Andrew while he smiled. “You know your typewriters. When I stumbled on this gem, I knew right away I had to own it. I pictured the former owners hammering on the keys to write a literary classic. Maybe even Twain himself.”

  Andrew smiled at Mr. Twain. “I can see that, too.”

  Jaxon took advantage of the moment. “We hate to intrude on you. We were just hoping to catch Emery still chatting with you.”

  Mr. Twain’s smile vanished, but his facial muscles loosened. “I hated that the poor fellow was upset. He is just a nice man who loves ghosts. I enjoy talking with him. But I get it.” He paused. “This incident must be resolved, so he said was returning to the inn to relax. But be considerate and let the man collect his wits. He has been through a lot.”

  I pinched my lips and nodded. “I understand. It is sweet of you for telling us that. Thank you.”

  Mr. Twain let out a little chuckle. “I trust you Raine. You are a sweet girl. Anytime.”

  Jaxon nodded to Mr. Twain and Andrew said, “Thank you.” Then we left.

  The walk to the inn was not too long, but would take about fifteen minutes. We had some time to talk.

  “Emery was upset after you talked to him. That fits your read that he knew about Holly’s money. I know this is not going to be a fun meeting, but I am guessing we better get this done because I think Emery might thinking about running.” Jaxon quickened his step.

  I gasped. “What? That is extreme and implies guilt.”

  Jaxon snorted. “Yep. But there is only one way to find out, corner him now before he can run. If that is what he is thinking.”

  Andrew added, “When I got up this morning, chasing a potential murderer was not what I had on my calendar. But, okay, let’s do this. But I would rather be working a paint brush. To be honest, I’m a little nervous.”

  Jaxon patted Andrew on the back. “Andrew, you are a better man than me. I get butterflies in my stomach every time I get close to confronting a potential criminal. And it’s a good thing, you need to be on your toes. It took me a long time to admit it out loud, though. You seem to be more honest, or impulsive, than me.”

  “I’ll go with impulsive because I'm not sure I wanted to be honest. I was embarrassed because I was worried I was the only one.”

  I said, “You’re not. Jaxon is right, we need to be on our toes with this chat. It feels like some puzzle pieces have fallen into place.”

  Jaxon replied, “Well said, Raine, but we need to see a couple more pieces to get the full picture. But like I said in the tea room, we might be getting there.”

  The inn is called The Billowing Sheet and most think the name refers to actual bed linens. But in fact, the moniker refers to the ghost sightings in Sinking Springs, including a few in the old inn. The original wooden clapboards have been painted many times, but now sport a new coat of light yellow, and the black shutters and white trim make the yellow pop. It works and I always sense a warm feeling when walking up to the lodge entrance.

  Jaxon scanned the place, top to bottom. “Nice. I can see why people like to come here. It’s the image you expect when thinking of a cozy, old inn.”

  Andrew nodded. “I never stayed here, or did work here, but it does look nice. Maybe I should leave a card.”

  Jaxon’s voice had a slight snarl to it. “Not now. We need to focus. This could go sideways, and like we said a few times, we need to be on our toes right now.”

  Andrew replied, “Jeez, you sound like we 're going to talk with Machine Gun Kelly.”

  Jaxon let a little snicker out. “It’s not that bad. But we might be dealing with Sesame Emery”

  Andrew and I laughed, then I said, “Let’s get this done. You are making me even more nervous.”

  We entered the lobby and found the house phone. Jaxon called Emery and then told us that he agreed to meet in the bar. So we found a table in the little pub and waited.

  Andrew asked, “Does anyone want a drink?”

  I said, “My mouth is dry. I could use a cola.”

  Jaxon nodded. “Me too, make it two.”

  Andrew went to the bar and brought back our drinks. And I was glad he did. We waited twenty minutes till Emery finally came in to join us. “I’m sorry, I had a few things that had to be done before I came down. But I’m here. I’m not sure why, because we just talked.” He stared at Jaxon. “And I see we now have new member of the team.”

  A waitress rushed over and asked if we needed more drinks. Emery ordered a scotch and we asked for refills.

  Jaxon spoke. “I appreciate you coming down like this. I know it is an intrusion. Thank you.”

  Emery slightly bowed his head forward. “I want to help when I can. And I understand from Mr. Twain that Raine here is persistent, so it is better to make myself available rather than be chased.” He turned his eyes to me and smiled.

  The waitress brought our drinks then looked at Emery. “Mr. Rumbold. You’ve almost finished off this bottle. We don’t get many who drink Oban. Most want Kentucky bourbon.”

  I noticed Andrew downed half of his refill. I had a bit of cotton mouth myself.

  Emery took the tumbler and held it in the air. “To Holly, may she rest in peace.”

  The three of us did not know how to respond, as demonstrated by the blank stares. But Jaxon found his wits and grabbed his soda and raised the glass, and clinked with Emery. Andrew and I followed suit.

  Emery smiled after he sipped the scotch. “Fourteen year old. That’s g
ood. I was surprised, but pleased to find an old inn like this so well stocked. But if the bottle is almost empty, I hope they have another one. I’ve had nothing to do the last couple of days and have drunk more scotch than I should.”

  Andrew said, “That’s understandable, you’ve been through a lot.”

  Emery’s eyes clouded and he nodded to Andrew.

  Jaxon said, “Yes, you have been through a lot. And I am sorry about this, but we are not here to talk about bourbon and scotch.”

  Emery hung his head. “I know. It’s just I’m so tired and bored of answering questions and talking about this. Holly was more valuable to me than a wife. And my world has been crushed with her loss.”

  Jaxon clasped his hands and sighed. “I know. But there are so many things that don’t make sense about the way she died. And you were sitting right next to her.”

  Emery sat straight. “Are you insinuating something?”

  Jaxon shook his head no. “Not at all. But you were sitting right next to her.”

  Emery folded his arms. “To be honest, I think you are hinting at something. And I don’t like it.”

  The silence that followed made it clear things were going sideways on us. Andrew tried to help. “Raine and I were sitting just a few tables away. It’s hard on all of us, but we know this must be excruciating for you. We're trying to be sensitive and all we want to do is make sure we didn’t miss something that might help the police.”

  Emery glared at Andrew.

  I added, “And the police did ask us to try and remember something, so that is all we are doing. It is not up to us to solve the crime, and we are not hinting at anything.”

  Emery took another sip and savored it. “I’m sorry...”

  He was cut off by a loud booming voice, “Police, everyone please remain seated.”

  I froze and stared at Detective Lambert approaching us, his hand on his sidearm. Andrew held his hands up, not over his head, but in plain sight. Jaxon did not move.

  Emery swiveled and faced the detective. “So, this looks serious.”

  Detective Lambert spoke firmly. “Emery Rumbold. You are under arrest for the murder of Holly Triste.”