Cold blooded brew

by Tonya Kappes

  Aunt Maxi had been trying to get me involved in every club and organization in Honey Springs, though she wasn’t a member of this one.

  “Yes. Seven thirty.” Morgan tapped on the calendar. “I think I’ll go.”

  “Do they let in non-members?” I asked.

  “It’s your lucky day, Roxy Bloom,” she said. She let out a raucous sound of laughter. “We’re having a membership drive. I get a gift card for every person I bring.”

  “Seven thirty, where?” I asked.

  “We meet in the gathering space in the library.” She and I both looked at the door when a customer came in with a dog. “Meet me there, or I can pick you up.”

  “I’ll meet you there.” I knew I needed to talk to Patrick because we’d made plans to go on a date, but I really wanted to go and see what everyone was saying about the Canters and their financial well-being—if any of it was true.

  From what I’d heard, there were far more tales twisted at those meetings than learning how to be a good Southern woman. But that was just hearsay.

  TWELVE

  When Pepper and I passed the Bean Hive on our way down to the boat dock, I could see Bunny through the windows, holding a meeting with a few of her friends. The coffee shop looked to be okay. I imagined they were in deep conversation about the murder, and I hoped that Bunny would have some good gossip after I got back from going to see Bib.

  All the shops looked filled, and without looking at my watch, I could tell it was almost time for lunch because the smell of fries and burgers floated out of the Buzz In and Out Diner. The tented chalkboard outside of the restaurant even boasted their delicious beef burger as the special of the day. It also said the beef was provided by the Cattlemen’s Association, and that was a big deal in Honey Springs. They had the best and freshest beef around. Almost every Friday night during the summer, they would set up a grilling station in Central Park. It was a standing date for Patrick and me. Plus, it was a great time for members of the community to get together and visit with each other.

  My stomach grumbled when another whiff of fries floated past my nose. Pepper must’ve smelled it, too, because he started to veer toward the diner.

  “Not today, buddy.” I gently held the leash taut.

  The boardwalk was getting more crowded, and I could see that the parking lot was filled with trucks that were either pulling a boat or had an empty boat trailer. The buzz of revving boat engines sounded all over the marina, followed by billows of exhaust smoke.

  The marina had a typical boat shop, which was more of a general store for boaters but with one difference. It was a floating, cottage-style shop that fit in with the rest of the cute shops on the boardwalk. The beautification committee had taken extra steps with the renovation of the boardwalk to make sure the shops looked cozy, and it made the boardwalk feel as though it was its own small town within a small town.

  “Big Bib?” I called, feeling a little odd that I still called him by his nickname. “It’s Roxy and Pepper.”

  I looked around to see if I could see him and checked out all the essentials he sold, such as fire extinguishers, life jackets, floats, fishing equipment, boat batteries, beer, snacks, coolers, koozies, and much more.

  It appeared that he was also gearing up for the summer tourists because his snack items were fully stocked, the mini-grills were stacked on top of each other, and there were coolers galore. I didn’t know what it was, but there was a connection between being on the water and needing lots of food.

  Patrick fell into the needing-food-on-the-water category. Every time we went to the lake for an afternoon of fishing or just a ride around it, he made sure he packed a light cooler of food and drinks. The cooler was the first thing he popped open before we even dropped a line.

  Pepper darted around the shop, smelling anything he could get his sniffer on while I looked for Bib. He was usually behind the cash register, watching the TV.

  “Where are you?” I whispered to myself and glossed over the shelves to see if he was bent over.

  Not that you could miss him. He was a big burly man who always had on a pair of jeans, a Metallica shirt that he’d cut the sleeves off of, and a pair of red suspenders clipped onto the waistband of his jeans. It was his staple outfit no matter what season it was. Sometimes the shirt changed to a different heavy metal band, but that was rare.

  Pepper raised his paw and scratched at the glass door that was opposite the door we had used. That door led straight out to the marina piers that jutted out into Lake Honey Springs and had the boat slips attached.

  I opened the door for Pepper to run around and sniff. I stepped outside to see if I could find Bib working on a boat. The warmth of the sun reflecting off the metal covering of the boat slips put a pleasant welcome on my cheeks. It’d been a bitter winter with lots of snow and a long, chilly spring that made me deeply desire the coming of summer.

  I closed my eyes and tuned into my breath for about a second before I heard an engine rumble to a stop and Bib’s voice over top of it.

  “I’m tired of waiting around. How old do we have to be to enjoy ourselves?” he asked whoever he was talking to. Then a curse fell from his mouth.

  I was sure he made the devil blush with his words.

  “I do love you.” The returned voice left me stunned because I knew it was Babette. “I just don’t think the looming of Hillary Canter’s murder and me as the suspect looks good.”

  I tiptoed a couple of paces toward their voices and peered around one of the metal beams that held the metal roof over the slips.

  “You can solve this mess with the sheriff if you come clean. Don’t you understand that you could go to jail for a crime you didn’t commit?” he asked with unbridled anger in his voice. “You were with me. That’s your alibi, and it gets you off the hook.” Bib choked with fury.

  I peeked around a little more and saw how he glowered at her, which forced her to turn away. Then I quickly remembered that hiding and sneaking around was never my strong suit when Babette’s face flushed white as she saw me.

  “Roxy?” she gasped and appeared to shiver in panic. “Are you spying on us?”

  “I… um…” I stepped out from behind my hiding post and walked toward them. “I didn’t mean to overhear. I was out here looking for Bib to ask him some questions about you and your past, since he was part of it.” I blinked a few times. “It’s all because you asked me to look into this as your lawyer. I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me you were with Bib the night of Hillary’s murder.”

  “Because I’m taking my chances on you clearing me. This isn’t how I wanted to world to find out that years after the accident with Paige, I finally bagged the prize,” she spat with anger that brought tears to her eyes. “Even though you’ve not lived in Honey Springs long, you know that if they hear a rumor or find out that we’re an item, I’ll be tried and hung all over again for the terrible accident that happened so many years ago.”

  “You did your time. You paid the price for that. Everyone who loves you wants you to be happy. And if it’s with Bib, and it can clear your name with Spencer, then I think this is a great time to tell the world that you’ve found love.” I pointed at Bib. “But I thought you were an item with Leslie Roarke?”

  Leslie Roarke owned the Crooked Cat Bookstore. Just a few months ago, she and Bib seemed to be hot and heavy at the Moose Lodge and in public.

  “Nah, Leslie is a good friend.” He shook that notion off real fast.

  I glanced at Babette. By the look on her face, I could tell that panic was rioting within her. The movement of her jaw, the fidgeting eyes, and the biting back of tears were just a few of the movements I could see. I could only imagine what was going through her head.

  “Roxy is right. She’s a lawyer, for goodness sake.” Bib threw up his hands. “I’m telling you that when I get done with this boat, if you’ve not gone to the sheriff’s department to tell him that you were with me, then I will.” He shook his head. “You can dump me or do w
hatever is going on in that head of yours, but that’s the chance I’m taking so you don’t go to jail again.”

  “Losing you would shatter me.” Her eyes anxiously searched his face.

  “You know that I’ve been wanting to come clean for years about us. This is the time, or you will lose me.” There didn’t seem to be any room for negotiation in his voice.

  “As your lawyer”—I did love using that phrase when I had my practice—“I can’t ethically let you do this to yourself just because you think you’ll be in the next installment of the ‘Sticky Situation.’” I gave her a half-smile. “Trust me when I say that this might go around the gossip mill a few times in a twenty-four-hour period.” I circled my finger between them. “But something new and better will come along right after that, and your news will be old news.”

  “You do know how all this gossip works around here.” She swallowed with difficulty and suddenly found her voice as she turned to Bib. “You and I are meant to be together. I did pay for my mistake years ago, and it’s time to let that go. Roxy, will you go with me to see Spencer?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “Right now?” I asked.

  “Might as well get it over with.” Her words ran together, and before she could get them out, Bib grabbed her and swung her around.

  “Yeehaw!” he hollered with delight. “Finally.” He planted a big ol’ Bib kiss on her lips. “I love this woman!” he yelled across the boat dock.

  “Good, now get over here and get my boat going,” someone chirped back.

  He held her tightly. “Baby, we’re going to celebrate tonight.”

  “The Watershed has to be full on reservations,” she said.

  “You want to go to The Watershed?” I asked, and they nodded. “I’ll make it happen.”

  I knew that when I told Patrick about my change in plans, he wouldn’t be happy. If I told him that we could give our reservations to Bib and Babette, I just might be able to give him a smile.

  THIRTEEN

  “You’re telling me that you and Bib have been an item for the past couple of months?” Spencer asked from across the cold metal table in the interrogation room.

  When we first got there, he’d tried to say that I had to stay out of the room, but I played the lawyer card and said that Babette wasn’t going to be interviewed without me being there.

  “Yes.” Her voice was low. “When we started to work on the Annual Honey Festival, it was a bit uncomfortable because we really never talked about what happened years ago.” She was barely audible. The microphone made a loud noise as Spencer slid it across the metal and closer to her mouth. “We were on the decorating committee together this year, and since all the decorations for the festival are kept in my shop, he was strong enough to move them around for us. We spent a lot of time getting the festival decorations up all over town, and I got to know him all over again as the man he’s become, and he saw the changes in me since we were in high school.”

  “He can vouch for you under oath?” Spencer asked.

  He seemed to be letting her off easy, and that sent my intuition into a flutter. I wondered what he was doing.

  “You wait here, and I’ll get you a sheet of paper and a pen so you can write it all down and sign it. Then we can legally get you off the list.” He stood up and scooted his chair back.

  Babette nodded. I stood up and held my hand out for her to stay, following him out.

  “Listen.” I stopped him after shutting the door behind me. “You’re letting her off way too easy in there. And if you want my help, I need to know what you’re thinking.”

  “I only asked you to keep your ear to the ground at your coffeehouse for any information, not actively go out and interrogate people.” His stare drew down his nose and rested on my eyes. “Besides, I’m a bit surprised after our conversation today that you didn’t tell me about the little episode between Hillary and Pam at the Bean Hive. I had a very interesting conversation with Loretta Bebe today when she came in here out of the goodness and conscientiousness of her heart.”

  For one thing, Loretta didn’t have a heart or a conscience. Spencer was baiting me, and I knew I should’ve told him, but I thought I had time to question Pam. It was the bombshell that Bib was Babette’s alibi that blew up my plan to go see Pam.

  “It’s Pam,” I shot back. “You’re going after Pam. How did Pam get the coat out of All About the Details?”

  “I have enough evidence to make an arrest,” he confirmed. “Think about it. You girls dream of what your wedding is going to look like as soon as you leave the womb.”

  “Not all, but most.” I wanted to clarify.

  “Go with me here.” The suggestion of annoyance hovered in his eyes. “Pam has this big notebook that I seized from Babette. It dates back years. In her head, this was what she wanted. In comes her best friend Hillary, who feeds her these ideas, and the money is adding up. Hillary tells her not to worry because she will pay for the wedding. What are rich best friends for?”

  “Then you think that Pam bought into all that? But good girl that Pam is, she got sick of how Hillary treated the people around her and took over the wedding?” I asked.

  “I also went to see Truman.” I detected a thawing in his voice. “It appears that Hillary made a pass at him, and Pam walked in on it.”

  I gasped. “Oh my.”

  “Even though Pam says she didn’t kill Hillary, there’s no one that can give her an alibi. She claims that she was at home asleep. There’s no video footage from any of the shops.” He didn’t say it, but I was getting the feeling that he was still mad that I hadn’t told him about the fight.

  My phone chirped from my back pocket.

  “I’m going to get her the paperwork so I can get her out of here.” He walked away, shaking his head. “Can’t believe Bib and Babette are an item.”

  “Mama!” I answered my phone with a gasp when I realized I’d forgotten about our lunch date. “I’m so sorry. Are you at the Bean Hive?”

  “Yes, and I don’t have time to wait. I have to go to the office.” She sounded flustered. “I’ll just have to talk to you later.”

  “I’m actually going to be going to the bank in a few.” I still had to get some things done on my list, and heading to the bank to talk to Evan Rich was on the top. I just couldn’t shake the pickle Emily and the Bee’s Knees Bakery was in without feeling guilty. “What if I swing by then?”

  “Sounds great. Bye, honey.” She hung up.

  While I waited for Babette to sign the papers, I sent Patrick a text. Although I wanted to believe that I decided to text him because I was taking Timmy’s schedule into consideration and didn’t want to disrupt their time together, I couldn’t say that. The fact was that I didn’t want to hear Patrick groan and moan when I told him I couldn’t go to supper. I needed to try to convince him to let Babette and Big Bib have the reservation at the restaurant.

  Like a coward, I texted him that we needed to reschedule and a quick sentence about giving it to Bib and Babette. A little bubble appeared under my text, and a “text read” message popped up under my message. He didn’t respond. My heart hurt because I knew he was upset, but maybe I could stop by his house after I went to the bank and stopped by to see Mama.

  I sucked in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. The feeling of being stretched thin was starting to wear on me. I’d not had this feeling since I was in law school studying for the bar exam.

  Spencer popped his head out of the room. “Roxy, Babette said that you can go on and go. Bib is going to come get her. Something about a table coming available at the Watershed or something.”

  “Great.” I smiled, knowing that Patrick’s kind heart did extend to the couple.

  Not dropping Babette off would save me some time, and if I played my cards right, I could fit in all the errands I needed to run. First, I needed to stop by the Bean Hive to pick up a few treats. I never liked to go anywhere empty-handed.

  “Everyone thinks it’s Pam that killed Hillary.
” Bunny and everyone else took the easy road to pointing fingers. “I don’t blame her. There were also some rumblings about the bank calling in a lot of people’s loans. What on earth is going on? Honey Springs is going to hell in a handbasket.” Bunny eased down on one of the stools.

  The bell over the door dinged, and the two afternoon girls came in looking super cute in their ponytails and Bean Hive tees.

  “I’m so glad they’re here. I’m worn slap out.” Bunny untied the apron from around her girth and slapped it on top of the counter.

  “Did you hear whose loans?” I asked.

  “Nah, they didn’t know. Just some rumblings. You know how all them old women can be.” Her words made me giggle.

  Yes, I knew how they could be, and Bunny was one of them.

  “You go on and get home. I’m gonna grab a few mini-quiches to drop off while I run some errands.” I gave her a quick hug before I headed back into the kitchen. I made sure I cooked plenty of things and put them in the freezer for times like this. When I showed up to someone’s house or place of business, I loved to take a treat to break any sort of ice. It was just a nice gesture that worked.

  Going to see Mama was first on my list. I felt bad enough that she’d moved around her schedule to come see me at the boardwalk. It must’ve been something pretty important because since she got her real estate license, she’d been busy and working very hard, leaving little time during the day to visit.

  With Pepper tucked in the basket, my messenger bag strapped across my body, and the treats carefully stowed inside, we were on our way. It was a seven-minute bike ride to town.

  Downtown hadn’t changed much since I was a teenager. The hubbub of most activities and festivals that took place in Honey Springs were held in Central Park, which was smack-dab in the middle of town.

  Central Park was surrounded by a very nice walking or jogging path. The sidewalks also extended into the park and led up to a big white gazebo. When I passed it, I couldn’t help but think about Pam and her wedding. Originally, she’d wanted it to be in Central Park, perched inside with Truman like those porcelain bride-and-groom figurines on top of a wedding cake.