by Jessica Beck
“Who are you calling? Suzanne, you’re not phoning George, are you?” Grace asked.
“No way. I’m staying as far away from that as I possibly can.”
“Then who are you trying to reach?”
“I’m calling Ellen Briar. It’s time she learned exactly what her brother was up to. If she wants any chance of making this right with any of us, she’s going to have pitch in herself and get her hands a little dirty.”
“What if she says no?” Grace asked me, but I held up one hand as I heard the Union Square police officer answer on the other end.
“Ellen, this is Suzanne Hart. We need to talk.”
After a heavy sigh on the other end, Ellen said, “I’ve got nothing else to say to you, Suzanne. I thought I made that perfectly clear the last time that we spoke.”
“Well then, the least that you can do is listen. I know where your brother got most of the information he was using to blackmail people.”
“Where?”
“I’m guessing that must you keep a file cabinet at home full of unproven or weak cases you’ve worked on over the years. It’s probably a hobby for you, isn’t it? Why would you do that? Were you bucking to get off the desk and back out into the field?”
The woman wasn’t slow on the uptake; I had to give her that. “Do you honestly think I’d let Morgan loose in my files? That cabinet’s locked, Suzanne.”
“And someone who’s spent so much time in prison wouldn’t learn how to overcome something like that, would he? Be realistic, Ellen. What would it hurt to see if I’m right? I’m willing to bet that if you go through those files right now, you’ll see that I’m right on the money.”
“Morgan wouldn’t steal from me,” she said resolutely.
“Would he even consider it stealing, given that they were just police files? You’ve got to let us search where he was staying. We could help you.”
“No,” Ellen said, and I could hear in her voice that there was no waffling at all. “I’ve looked through his things, and there’s nothing like that anywhere.”
I was about to tell her about the orange-handled key to the bus station locker when something made me hesitate. It might help her to know what she was looking for, but then again, what if she managed to find the evidence without us? How much of it would still be available to us then? I had no doubt that she’d do what she could to protect her brother’s memory, even if it meant suppressing evidence in the blackmail case. It wasn’t as though anybody would ever be prosecuted for it. Still, I decided to keep my mouth shut, just in case.
“Are you sure that you don’t need any help?” I asked. “A couple of fresh sets of eyes might be in order. We’re good at this, Ellen. Ask Chief Martin if you don’t believe me.”
“There’s no need. He’s already sung your praises to me, but that doesn’t mean that I have to trust you. Good bye, Suzanne.”
I closed my phone with a frown.
“That didn’t go as well as you’d hoped, did it?” Grace asked me.
“I need to see her face-to-face,” I said. “It’s a lot harder to tell someone no when you’re looking into their eyes.”
“Then let’s go to her house,” Grace said.
“I’m game if you are. It’s just half an hour to Union Square.”
“And after we’re finished, maybe we can grab a bite at Napoli’s. They have to be open now, and I’ve been craving lasagna for weeks.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I said. “Let’s take the Jeep.”
“That sounds good to me. That way I can nap on the drive over.”
I studied Grace for a second, and then I asked, “Why are you so tired?”
“Hey, sleuthing is hard work.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said with a grin. I would have hated investigating this case without Grace by my side. When things seemed at their darkest, she always managed to pick me up, just by being there. It was a trait more precious than diamonds to me. Well, not really big ones, but standard ones, anyway.
“She’s not home,” Grace said after I rang Ellen’s doorbell for the third straight time with no response. The place was a little rundown, with weeds growing up against the house, and the siding was in dire need of a paint job. There were no cars in the driveway, and the repeated lack of response was another clue that Ellen wasn’t there. The doghouse out front was in nice shape, though, with a new coat of paint, and the name SPIKE carefully labeled over the door, but if a dog lived there, he wasn’t at home, either.
“We could just break in and look around for ourselves,” I said as I studied the door lock for a moment.
“What if the dog’s inside, instead of out here?” Grace asked.
“We’ll deal with him when we run into him, then.”
Grace put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me back up. “Suzanne Hart, as much as it pains me to say this, you’ve been hanging around with me too long. We’re not going to break into the home of a police officer; do you hear me? Not even Jake’s pull could get us out of the slammer if we got caught.”
“That’s a big ‘if,’ though,” I said, and then I realized how foolish I was being. My decision to give up on the idea was more about Jake’s certain disapproval than the possibility of being arrested. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”
“That’s excellent,” Grace said. “I’m dying to eat at Napoli’s.”
“Me, too, but we’re coming back here after we finish.”
Grace frowned at me. “Don’t you have a donut shop to run tomorrow?”
“I do, same as always, but that’s not going to stop me from trying to clear my family’s name. If I have to, I’ll shut the place down completely until we get to the bottom of this.”
“Something just occurred to me,” Grace said. “We really haven’t done much about tackling the hit-and-run that Morgan thought your dad was involved in. Is it possible that Morgan’s death was tied into his brother’s?”
I held up Jake’s notebook. “I don’t know, but that’s why we’ve got this. If our leads start to run out on Morgan’s murder, we’ll start digging into my father’s past. To be honest with you, I’m not all that thrilled about what we might uncover.”
Grace hugged me as she said, “Suzanne, knowing is better than not knowing, ten out of ten times.”
“I just hope that you’re right,” I replied as we got back into the Jeep and headed toward Napoli’s.
If nothing else, we should get a nice meal out of it, and who knew? With any luck, we might just uncover a few leads in my boyfriend’s investigative notebook as we ate. After we finished, though, we were coming straight back to Ellen Briar’s home.
I had a hunch that there were answers there waiting for us, if only we could get in.
Lemon Bangs
We go through phases at my house where lemon is the absolute favorite flavor on the planet for us. When my significant other complained that I didn’t make enough lemon donuts, I pulled out all of the stops on this one, even though I didn’t have any fresh lemons on hand at the time. If I had, I would have added some zest to both the batter and the icing, and I would have added some juice as well, but these are still delicious just the way they are. Be warned. If you’re not a huge lemon fan, you might want to cut back a little on the lemon extract, or even try something a little milder in taste, but for us, this recipe goes off with a bang!
INGREDIENTS
MIXED
1/2 cup whole milk (2% will do)
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 Tablespoon canola oil (any vegetable oil will do)
1 1/2 teaspoons lemon extract
SIFTED
1 cup flour, unbleached all-purpose
1/2 cup sugar, granulated
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
ICING
1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar
1 Tablespoon warm water
1/2 teaspoon
lemon extract
INSTRUCTIONS
If you’re using your oven, preheat to 365 degrees F before you start mixing.
In a bowl, beat the egg lightly, then add the milk, canola oil, and lemon extract. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, sugar, baking soda, nutmeg, cinnamon, and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the wet, mixing well until you have a smooth consistency.
Put the batter into your donut pans or into your donut baker and bake for eight to ten minutes in your oven, five to six minutes in your donut baker, or until they’re richly brown.
Yield 10-12 small donuts
Lemon Icing
Mix 1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar, 1 Tablespoon warm water, and 1/2 teaspoon lemon extract. Mix until it’s combined, and then drizzle on top of the donuts while they are still warm.
Chapter 13
“This lasagna is so good it should be illegal,” Grace said as she took another bite. I had ordered my usual ravioli, something I really loved, but she was bragging about her meal so much that I had to have some.
“Can I have a bite before it’s all gone?” I asked.
Grace stared down at her plate, and then she looked critically at me. “Suzanne, I’ve been known to stab a date’s hand when they were reaching for my food, but I’ll share with you. Just a little bite, though, okay?”
“Thanks,” I said as I took some of the lasagna and tasted it. There was an explosion of cheeses, sauce, and pasta in my mouth, and I was beginning to regret my ravioli choice. “That is unbelievable,” I replied.
Angelica was standing nearby, watching over the restaurant’s dining room like a mother hen. I motioned her over, but she held up one finger and vanished into the kitchen. I just wanted to tell her how great the food was, but evidently it was going to have to wait.
That’s when she reappeared with a fresh plate full of lasagna.
“This is for you,” she said as she slid the new offering beside my plate.
“I couldn’t possibly eat all of that,” I said as I looked at the mound of food.
“I can help,” Grace said with a greedy smile.
“Angelica, I’d really love to dive into this, but I’m nearly full now.”
“That’s not a problem,” she said with a big grin. “Eat what you want, and then you can take the rest home with you. Should I go ahead and put it in a container to go?”
I looked at the plate of lasagna again, and then I said with a smile, “Not just yet. I’m sure I can eat a little. Just put it on my tab, okay?”
Angela’s smile dissipated quickly. She had a heart as big as the world, but she was not a woman to be crossed. “We’ve already discussed this, Suzanne. Tonight’s meal is with our compliments. You’re not going to spoil my evening and argue with me, are you? Who climbed up on my roof when no one else would?”
“It wasn’t all that big a deal,” I said.
“To you, maybe not, but to me and my girls, yes, it was. Now, if you keep arguing with me, you’re getting three desserts to take home with you, too.”
“Three? But there are only two of us,” I said.
“I think we can handle it,” Grace said.
“The third is for your mother,” Angelica said. “I’m sure she’d enjoy it.”
“I’m done arguing,” I said happily. “You win. Just the lasagna, though.”
“Plus the desserts,” Angelica added.
I knew when I was outmatched, and besides, I really didn’t want to win that particular argument in the first place. Instead, I stood and hugged her.
Angelica was no dainty flower. When she hugged me back, I could almost feel a few ribs start to crack. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Suzanne, you are very welcome,” Angelica said. “Now, I’ll leave you ladies to finish your meals, and when you’re ready, just let me know and I’ll have one of the girls wrap all of this up for you, including the desserts.”
After the restaurant owner was gone, I took a knife and cut off a small portion of the lasagna and slid it onto my plate. After I’d done that, I looked at Grace and asked, “Are you sure you want more right now?”
“No,” she said with real regret in her voice. “I’m afraid that my eyes are too big for my stomach. It’s going to be tough enough as it is to eat dessert.”
“Grace, you’re kidding, right? You actually have room for something else?”
“Not at the moment, but I have high hopes for later,” she said.
I took the few bites I’d set aside, and I felt the rush of good food wash over me like a rain shower. I knew that all of the owner’s girls were good at preparing food for the restaurant, but this had the teacher’s touch, and there was no doubt in my mind that it had come from Angelica’s own hands. I tried to take another bite, it was that good, but finally I pushed the plate away. “I’m going to explode if I try to go on.”
Grace nodded. “I’m miserable, too, but I’m happy. That woman is a wonder in the kitchen, isn’t she?”
“I think they all are,” I agreed.
Angelica saw that we’d thrown in the towel, and she hurried over to us with a large tray. “I’ll have these ready in no time, but feel free to linger all you’d like. Maria will be by with two coffees in a moment.”
“Thanks again, for everything,” I said.
“Enough thanks. This is my pleasure,” she said.
Maria was at our table ten seconds after Angelica walked back into the kitchen, and she delivered two cups of luxurious coffee.
“Your mother is spoiling us,” I said. “And to make matters worse, she won’t let us pay for our dinners tonight.”
“Suzanne, we’ve known each other a long time. Do you trust me?” the beautiful young woman asked.
“You know that I do,” I answered.
“Then take it and smile. My mother gets great pleasure doing this, and I’d hate for you to rob her of it.”
“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Grace said.
After Maria was gone, I took a sip of the coffee. It was the perfect end to a rather spectacular meal. “Wow, that’s great, too,” Grace said. “Is there anything those ladies can’t do?”
“Well, at least I can climb ladders better than they can,” I said with a smile.
“And aren’t we both glad that’s true,” Grace replied. Her smile quickly faded, though, as she continued, “Did you have any idea how bad Polly’s husband’s condition got at the end of his life?”
“No, she somehow managed to keep that a secret. I doubt that even Momma knew, and she’s got more sources in town than Ray Blake.” Emma’s dad was good at running our newspaper, but he couldn’t match my mother’s list of contacts, and what’s more, he knew it. “Can you believe that Morgan tried to blackmail her about what happened?”
“When it comes to that man, I’d believe just about anything,” Grace said. “He had some nerve, going through his sister’s files like that. I wouldn’t be all that surprised to find that he tried to blackmail a dozen more people that we don’t even know about.”
“You’re probably right, as long as they were all women. That’s the pattern we’ve found so far, anyway. He was quite a coward, wasn’t he?”
“Foolish, I’d say. A man might punch you in the nose on the spur of the moment, but it would take a woman to do a better job of it and not stop with something that mild. I don’t know who called us the weaker sex, but they were dead wrong as far as I’m concerned.”
“I have a hunch that Morgan learned that particular lesson just fine all by himself,” I said. Jake’s notebook was in my pocket, and I’d been dying for the right chance to take it out and really study it. I looked at Grace as I took it out and I asked, “Should we take this somewhere else so we can read it a little more carefully?”
My best friend looked around the crowded restaurant. “I don’t believe that a single soul here is paying any attention to us.”
I had to agree as I studied the room myself. “Let’s see what Jake has to say, then,” I said as I opened
it.
The first page was headed, “Morgan and Blake Briar Murder/Death Investigations”, and the second had a list of suspects for each event, most names still clear, and only one crossed out. As I read them aloud, Grace took it all in. I stumbled a little when I got to my own father’s name, and I was unhappy to see that it hadn’t been the one that had been crossed out. That one was Morgan Briar. Had Jake really considered him a suspect in his own brother’s death all those years ago? I wasn’t sure that I would have added him to my list, but I was positive that Jake had his reasons. I didn’t know three of the other names, but Grace and I would have to start digging into them before long.
“He’s pretty thorough, isn’t he?” Grace asked as she looked at the book upside down. “What’s on the next page?”
I turned to the one in question and read, “Motives To Consider. Money and Greed.” Below that was another line, with the captions, “Hide something, Expose something, Protect something, Steal something, Get Revenge for something.”
There was nothing under any of these listings, and the rest of the pages of the book were blank.
“He didn’t get very far, did he?” Grace asked as she took the book from me and leafed through the pages again herself.
“We didn’t exactly give him much time,” I said, automatically defending him.
Grace threw her hands into the air. “Hey, I wasn’t accusing him of anything. I’m just saying that we’ve got our work cut out for us if we’re going to solve two murders.”
“One murder and one possible accident,” I reminded her.
“Doesn’t it make more sense if someone killed Blake on purpose?” she asked.
“To be honest with you, I’m not sure what makes sense at this point. What if the two events have nothing in common except that they both happened to Briar brothers? If Blake was an accident, it could be totally unrelated to what happened to Morgan. He was a blackmailer, remember?”
