Cast Iron Motive (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 4)

by Jessica Beck

  “I’m not talking about that. I mean the idea of you two walking around town asking questions about me.”

  “First of all, the questions aren’t going to primarily be about you, and second, if we can’t make inquiries, then why are we here?” Pat asked.

  “Oh, very well. Just be careful, will you?”

  “We’ll do our best, but we can’t make any promises,” I said as Pat and I grabbed our jackets and headed out on foot into the crisp morning air toward the diner.

  It was time to get something to eat, but more importantly, we needed to start digging around our aunt’s life, no matter what Pat had just told her. Motive was the key to this puzzle, and without uncovering it, we’d just be spinning our wheels on the ice.

  “Welcome to Moe’s,” a thin waitress in her forties greeted us as Pat and I walked into the worn-out diner. Her name tag pegged her as Regina, but I wasn’t about to call her by name. She probably got enough tag reading as it was. The place was three quarters full at the moment, and just like home, there was a wide array of hats perched on the heads of nearly all of the men eating there. Advertising everything from tractors to sports teams, the caps made me miss my own grill back home. The colorful caps had always reminded me of peacocks, strutting their colors for all to see. The diner’s ratio at the moment was probably four men for every woman present, and everybody in the place had a cup of coffee in front of them.

  “Hi, Regina,” Pat said with a broad smile. She didn’t react to it with anything more than a “hey.”

  “You can sit anywhere that’s not already taken,” she said. “Need menus?”

  “That would be great,” I said as I reached for them. I started to sit at the counter, but Pat tapped my shoulder. “How about over there?” He pointed to a spot near the front window where we could hear what was going on around us without being directly involved in any of the conversations.

  “Sure, that’s fine,” I said.

  Regina was there in short order, and without even being asked, she flipped our coffee cups over and filled them to the brim. “What can I get you?”

  “Two eggs, over medium, bacon not crispy, scattered hash browns that are, and two pieces of buttered white toast,” Pat said.

  “Ma’am?” she asked after jotting my brother’s most specific order down on her pad.

  “How’s the oatmeal?” I asked her.

  “We don’t get too many complaints,” Regina said.

  I couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not. “I’ll have the oatmeal, then.”

  “Is that it?” she asked me incredulously.

  “For now.”

  After she was gone, I asked my brother, “Are you sure we shouldn’t be sitting at the bar near the register where everything’s happening?”

  “Annie, I know it goes against your nature to stay out of the fray, but we can’t just dive in and start asking questions about Della and Cheryl.”

  “Why not?” I asked him.

  “Why not indeed?” a man sitting solo in the booth beside us asked as he left his place and joined us without being asked. He was wearing a flannel shirt and faded blue jeans, so his uniform matched most of the men present, and a few of the ladies as well. He carried his coffee mug with him, and as he slid in beside my brother, he put it down on the table. “What brings you two to town?”

  “We’re here visiting family,” I said.

  “Oh, really? Anybody I know?”

  Pat raised an eyebrow. “How could we possibly have any idea of everybody that you know?”

  The stranger chuckled. “That’s a point. Why don’t you try me and we’ll see?”

  “Della Mahoney,” I said.

  There was a slight hitch to his smile before he answered, “I know Della.”

  “Did you know Cheryl Simmons as well?” I asked him.

  A cloud covered his face for a moment. “That’s a real shame, what happened to her. Did you two know her through Della?”

  “We never met her,” Pat said. That was my brother, honest to the point of it being a character flaw. “Has there been any more news about what happened?”

  The stranger leaned forward as he whispered, “Don’t quote me, but I heard she got conked on the noggin, rolled into the water unconscious, and drowned. I don’t know how they can tell these things for sure, but evidently they can.”

  “If there’s water in her lungs, then she had to have breathed in,” I said. “If not, she was dead before she hit the lake.”

  “Are you two some kind of detectives or something?” he asked me.

  “We read a lot of books and we watch a lot of television, too,” Pat said, no doubt trying to keep our real purpose secret for a little while longer.

  “Ghastly stuff, that. I’ll take an old-fashioned western any day.”

  “Book or movie?” Pat asked him. My brother had also been known to watch or read an oater on more than one occasion. What was it about the romance of the old west that appealed to so many men? Given the choice, I’ll take the miracles of modern drugs and air conditioning ten out of ten times myself.

  “Both,” he admitted.

  Before they could start discussing their favorite westerns, I decided to try to keep the conversation from being derailed. “Why would anyone want to kill Cheryl Simmons?”

  “That’s a fair question,” the man said. “She was wearing Della’s hat, from what I heard.”

  “It was her jacket,” I blurted out before being able to stop myself. I wasn’t sure if we should have kept that fact a secret, but it was too late for that now.

  “That makes more sense than just a hat,” the man said and then took a large sip of coffee. “From the back, and in the dark to boot, I doubt anyone would be able to tell Cheryl from Della, and I’ve known them both for years. Do you two think that attack was made for your cousin?”

  “Actually, she’s our aunt,” I said. “We’re twins.”

  “The three of you?” he asked incredulously.

  “No, just me and my brother,” I said. Had he not just heard the “aunt” designation?

  He studied us both for a moment before replying. “No offense, but you don’t look anything alike to me.”

  “We’re fraternal, not identical. That means that we were in the same womb at the same time, but in different eggs,” Pat explained.

  “Speaking of eggs, here yours come. Would you like me to leave so you can have some peace and quiet while you eat?”

  “No, please stay,” I said. We might be able to get some information out of this stranger, and I hated to pass up the chance.

  After Regina delivered our orders, she asked, “You need anything, Gary?”

  “No, I’m good,” he said.

  My spoon hovered over my oatmeal. “Are you Gary White, by any chance?”

  He looked surprised by my identification. “How could you possibly know that? I know for a fact that I didn’t introduce myself when I joined you.”

  “You made it a point not to, didn’t you?” Pat asked him. “Could that have anything to do with the threats you made against our aunt a few days ago?”

  “Hang on there, partner. I didn’t make any threats toward anyone. Did Della say that I did?”

  “She told us that you were so upset about the parade bypassing your hardware store that you threatened to burn it all down. Is that true, or are you calling her a liar?” I asked.

  “Slow down. We had words, and I can’t recall exactly what I said to her, but Della said much worse to me, and you can believe that whether you want to or not.” He took a slow sip of coffee, and then he put his mug back on the table before he spoke again. “Your aunt thinks that whoever killed Cheryl was gunning for her, doesn’t she?”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked him, not wanting to give anything more away than I already had.

  “It just makes sense. She’s been acting odd all week. At first I thought it was because of the festival, but that’s not the case, is it? So, she thinks she’s got a target on her bac
k, does she? No wonder she hasn’t been herself lately.”

  “Her suspicions aren’t entirely without merit,” I told him.

  “Has somebody actually taken a run at her?” Gary asked, lowering his voice as he did so. “That’s not good.”

  “You’re telling us,” Pat said. “She’s our family. How do you think we feel about it?”

  “If there’s anything I can do to help, and I mean anything, all you have to do is ask. I feel bad now for the hard words between us, and I aim to make things right,” he said as he dug out his wallet. I was about to refuse his offer to buy us breakfast when he slipped a business card from his wallet and slid it across the table to me. “My home number’s on that thing, so call me day or night if you need me.”

  “Why are you being so helpful to us?” Pat asked him. It was a worthy question that I was wondering about myself.

  “You said it yourself. Knowing Della, half the town is going to believe that I had something to do with Cheryl’s murder. Your aunt isn’t afraid of sharing her thoughts with the rest of this sleepy little place, and before you know it, folks will be driving somewhere else for their hardware needs. Call my offer a healthy dose of self-interest, if that makes you feel any better.”

  “I can accept that,” Pat said.

  Gary made a motion to leave, but before he could go, I reached across the table and touched his arm lightly. “Are you sincere about your offer to help us?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t have made it if I hadn’t been.”

  “Then stay right here and tell us about some of your fellow townsfolk.”

  He shrugged. “Who do you want to know about?”

  “Let’s start with Police Chief Cameron,” Pat said.

  “Who else have you got?” Gary asked, clearly uncomfortable talking about the chief of police.

  “I thought you were going to help us?” I asked him.

  “Cam isn’t all that fond of your aunt. They went out for a while a long time ago, and from what I heard, he asked her out again a few days ago. She laughed at him, and that’s likely to leave scorch marks on a man’s heart, if you know what I mean.”

  So, at least that much of Aunt Della’s story was true. “What about your mayor?”

  “Davis? Did she say that he was sweet on her, too?” Gary asked me.

  “She hinted as much,” I said.

  “Well, if he is, she’d better watch her back. Serena Jefferson laid her claim on that man a long time ago, and she wouldn’t take well to trespassers.”

  So, Aunt Della wasn’t nearly as delusional as Pat and I had first suspected.

  “I don’t get it. What’s her charm?” my brother asked him candidly.

  “It’s simple, really. When your aunt talks to a man, she gives him her full attention. It’s as though there’s not another soul in the world, and nothing is more important than what you’ve got to say. It can be intoxicating at times.”

  “Have you ever had a thing for her yourself?” I asked him.

  “Me? No. No ma’am. That’s never going to happen.”

  Pat grinned. “You don’t seem to be very sure of your answer.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Della is a fine woman, and a great listener, but I’ve had my heart broken too many times. I’m afraid if I fall in love again and it ends badly, it will be more than I can take. That’s how my daddy died, and I don’t want to follow in his footsteps.”

  “He died of a broken heart?” I asked, knowing that it didn’t have anything to do with our case, but I wanted to know nonetheless. “Did your mother leave him?”

  “In a way. The cancer got her. I thought it was going to kill him when she passed away, but to my surprise, he found himself another wife. Only she had more problems than anyone could have suspected. Six weeks into the marriage, she left with everything in their joint bank account. There was a note that said she was sorry that it didn’t work out, and for the next six months, I watched my father slowly die right in front of me. He just gave up, you know?” There were tears in the corner of Gary’s eyes, and without realizing what I was doing, I reached out and patted his hand gently.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “It’s all ancient history now,” the hardware store owner said. He shook his head once, wiped away the tears with the back of his hand, and then he stood, throwing a twenty on the table. “Breakfast is on me, folks. Happy hunting.”

  Before we could protest, he was gone.

  “What do you make of that?” Pat asked me.

  “It’s just about the saddest story I’ve heard,” I told him.

  “I’m not talking about his dad’s broken heart. Gary managed to confirm everything that Della told us, with one glaring exception.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, still thinking about the tragic story of his father.

  “Della claimed that she and Gary had a real argument, but he seemed to downplay it, didn’t he? I wonder if anyone overheard them arguing?”

  “We can always ask around,” I said as Regina came up, scowling at us both.

  “You two Della’s kin?” she asked harshly.

  “We are,” Pat said.

  I kept waiting for Regina to say something, but after a moment, she just shook her head and walked away.

  “What was that all about?” I asked my brother.

  “I don’t know, but I’ve got a feeling that she’s not a fan.”

  “Maybe she wants the mayor for herself, too,” I said with a smile.

  “Maybe,” he answered.

  After our breakfast was over, Pat grabbed the twenty, as well as our bill, and we walked to the register together. “You’re not going to actually let Gary pay for our meal, are you?”

  “Why not?” Pat asked as he handed Regina the twenty Gary had left behind.

  I waited until we were outside on the curb before I asked, “Care to explain what just happened?”

  “Don’t worry, I was just teasing. I used his twenty, but I’m planning on paying him back the next time we see him,” he replied.

  “When are we going to do that?”

  “As soon as we speak with our other suspects. Maybe if we get lucky, we’ll find someone who overheard that exchange between Della and him. In the meantime, we’ve got other folks we need to speak with first.”

  “Where should we start?” I asked him.

  “Town hall sounds good to me, since two of our suspects work there. Should we question them separately or stick together?”

  “Together,” I said without hesitation. “Always together.”

  CHAPTER 9: PAT

  “Is the mayor in?” I asked the pretty young brunette behind the desk in city hall as I gave her my brightest smile.

  “He is,” she said, though it was clear that my charm had no effect on her. “Did you have an appointment?”

  “No, but we were hoping that he could fit us in. We just met him last night.”

  “You’re Della’s people, aren’t you?” she asked with a smile. If there was any animosity between them, I couldn’t see it. Perhaps this was one of the times where our aunt’s sense of dramatics came into play.

  “We are,” I said as I extended a hand. “I’m Pat Marsh, and this is my twin sister, Annie.”

  She took my hand and then Annie’s. “I’ve always been fascinated by twins. They run in my family.”

  “Are you one yourself?” Annie asked her.

  “I wish. It must be so cool.”

  “It can be,” I said with a grin.

  “More so for him than me, most times,” she added.

  “I bet. Let me see if Davis has a second for you.”

  She stood and walked from behind her desk into the mayor’s office. Once she was gone, Annie said, “She’s cute enough to get someone her own age. Davis has to be somewhere around thirty years older than she is.”

  “Maybe she finds older men attractive,” I said.

  “Then you wouldn’t qualify,” she answered with a smile. “You’re not old eno
ugh.”

  “I’ve got someone in my life, remember?”

  “I know that. I just want to make sure that you do. Jenna is the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time.” I knew she was referring to Molly Fennel, my former love, and she was right. Molly and I had too much of a history to ever put the past completely behind us, but I was with Jenna now, and I was happy about it.

  “No worries on that count. I’m not about to mess that up,” I said.

  “Good.”

  Serena came back and stood in the open doorway. “He’s got some time for you right now, but you need to make it quick.” She turned and looked at her boss and scolded him. “Don’t take over ten minutes, or I’ll have to throw them out,” she said good-naturedly. “You have a meeting with the planning commission, and you skipped out on the last one.”

  “I got distracted,” he said with a grin.

  “That’s where I come in, to keep you on the straight and narrow.”

  As we stepped inside, I said, “We won’t keep him long.”

  “I’m just having a little fun with him,” Serena said. She closed the door behind us, and Davis stood until we were seated across from him. For the mayor, his desk was rather nondescript, and I wondered if it had first seen life in a high school classroom. The top was scarred from decades of hard use, but somehow it seemed to fit Davis just fine.

  “She seems nice,” Annie said.

  “For a nag, she’s okay,” he answered with a grin. “Not that I don’t need someone keeping me on schedule. Before I hired her, I missed half of the meetings I was supposed to be attending, and I like the way she teases me into action.”

  “Is there anything else going on between the two of you?” Annie asked lightly.

  “What? Do you mean romantically? She’s just a child! I’m thirty years older than she is, Annie.”

  “Still, it’s been known to happen,” my sister pushed a little harder.

  “Not to me. I like women I can share a common history with.”

  “Does that mean you only go out with people that you’ve dated before?” I asked him.

  “No, I mean general history. My cutoff line is the first moon landing.”