by Tonya Kappes
He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and let out a long deep exhale out his mouth. I turned out of the alley and then left on Main Street. I had to get to the dumpster behind Ben’s and grab those black garbage bags.
“That frozen dinner pull tab really is on my mind. I know that pot pie can be frozen and I wonder who made a frozen dinner at Ben’s.” I had to get Poppa thinking about the case. It was the only way to get Mama off the suspect list. “Just think about Chef Mundy.”
“He had access to the kitchen. He was very vocal about the diner and the noise the construction workers were making. Then he and Ben got into that argument.” Poppa was coming around to the sheriff he used to be, putting the what-if scenarios together that made us such a great team. “There was that little moment he had too.”
“When?” I asked, pulling up to the edge of the dumpster where I’d thrown the bags out.
“When Frank Von Lee came to the diner to meet with Ben and Viv, no one was in the back of the kitchen. Ben said Mundy still had a key,” Poppa said.
“But they would’ve smelled the pot pie baking.” It wouldn’t have been possible for Mundy to bake the pot pie then. “Though...” I stopped to gather my thoughts. “Ben did shut down the diner for his and mama’s private meeting with Frank so he could get prepared for the real tasting the next day. I’m sure he ran some errands and Mama was who knows where that afternoon, but we do know her whereabouts later that day. I’m going to ask her where she was between the time she left the initial meet and greet with Frank and showed up at Lulu’s. Back to Chef Mundy.” I put my mind back on him as a possible suspect. “So Mundy could’ve walked over to the diner, slipped in the back using his key, baked the pot pie, and put the poison in.”
“Yeah, but did anyone at the Tattered Book see him?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet.” I put it on my mental list to check out. “One suspect at a time. Right now meeting Mama to find out her exact whereabouts the entire day is my focus.” I smiled and turned the Wagoneer off. “Mama is very sneaky. If she was going to be doing something and not want to get caught, she’d have been a lot more discreet.”
“You’re right!” Poppa’s excitement grew. “I know she didn’t do this. We’ve got to figure out who wants everyone to believe she did.”
“Mama is vocal and would be a very easy candidate as a suspect since Frank Von Lee’s entire visit was centered around her and that pot pie.” I got out of the Jeep and opened the back door.
There was no time to go through the trash since I had to meet Mama, so I threw all the bags into the back of the Jeep.
On the way over to Luke Jones’s movie theater, I gave Finn a quick call. When he didn’t answer, I left a message letting him know that I might’ve found some evidence and I’d be sorting it at home. Conveniently I left out the part that it was trash. Smelly trash. Plus I wanted to tell him that I’d found out that Mundy had been staying at The Tattered Cover Books and Inn, which might’ve put him at the scene of the crime. I was never comfortable leaving messages so detailed on an answering machine, so I left the message very vague.
The smell of warm buttery popcorn floated around me as I got out of the Jeep in front of Luke’s house. A much better smell than what was inside the Jeep. We didn’t have a movie theater in Cottonwood and it took us about forty-five minutes to get to a larger town if we did want to see a movie, so Luke and Vita Jones turned their basement into a makeshift theater. Granted, the movies were older (practically centuries), but the movie popcorn and candy made up for that.
“Afternoon, Sheriff.” Vita Jones greeted me at the door with a big bag of fresh popcorn and a can of Diet Coke. “I figured I’d have it all ready for you when you got here. Your mama is up there sitting on the front couch.”
“Thank you, Vita.” I looked in the bag.
“Don’t worry. I sprinkled some extra M&M’s in there.” She winked. “Besides, it sounds like you need that extra sugar with a murderer on the loose.”
“We’re working really hard on bringing some justice for Mr. Von Lee.” I offered her a reassuring smile. “Thank you for the extra candy.”
“I think your mama just got back from the eye doctor.” Vita’s brow rose. “She’s got on a big pair of dark sunglasses.”
“You know Mama,” I said. “She’s particular about getting wrinkles. Maybe the new spring sunshine is making her squint a little more today.”
“That sunshine is welcome from me after the long dark winter we’ve had.” Vita sucked in a deep breath and glanced over my shoulder out the window in the door behind me.
“I agree. Any sunshine is good for me,” I agreed. “I’ll see you after the movie.”
“Groundhog Day. A favorite around here this time of the year.” She handed a bag of popcorn to another movie-goer. “We’re playing it a little longer this year since the groundhog predicted an early spring.”
“I’m glad he did.” I headed to the front of the theater.
Luke and Vita had gotten hand-me-down mismatched couches from various citizens of Cottonwood and placed them around the basement for movie-goers. There were different movie posters around the room. Today was a good day for a movie. The screen was pulled down at the front of the room, which was what made it a good day. Sometimes it was finicky and wouldn’t cooperate when Luke tried to pull it down. On those days, Luke pinned up a king-sized sheet and played the movie.
Mama was curled in the corner of the couch, butted up to the arm. Her dark glasses still covered her eyes.
“Mama.” I held the bag of popcorn out for her to grab a handful.
She waved her hand in the air, a hanky in her grip, declining the tasty treat. She used the corner of it to dab the edge of each eye. I wasn’t going to fall for it. She wasn’t crying. Mama had pulled the wool over my eyes one too many times.
“Did you see that gawd-awful newspaper?” She sniffed. “I’m going to call Wally Lamb and see what law Edna Easterly has broken because I know you’ll tell me to let it go like you always do.” She tried her best to mock me with her best follow-up sniff.
I eased down next to her and whispered, because I was well aware of the rubber-necking of the people around us who were trying to get a hint of our conversation. “You should let it go and let me do my job.”
“Your job?” Mama squeaked. “You’ll have me down there in that jail. In no time my hair will smell like that old fried catfish that Bartley Fry is so proud of.”
“If you are guilty of something, then you need to tell me,” I encouraged her. “I’m here because you said you had something to tell me.”
The lights dimmed and the beginning of Groundhog Day started, and so had the sound of fresh popping popcorn, which let Mama and I talk a little louder than a hushed whisper.
“Go on.” Mama threw her arms in front of her with her wrists up. “Cuff me. Arrest your poor ol’ mama if you think I killed Frank Von Lee.” She jutted them toward me a couple of times with her eyes squeezed shut.
“Mama,” I whispered.
Her chin flew in the air; one eye squinted a little behind her sunglasses.
“I see you looking at me. Open your eyes and stop pouting.” This was a position I never thought I’d be in.
“Pouting? You’ve accused me of killing a man. Your mama.” She jabbed her chest with her finger. “Ouch.” She quickly tried to rub out the hurt she’d caused herself. “I’m your mama. I brought you into this world. I gave you your name. I gave you everything you ever wanted. I paid for your college and now you are using that against me.”
“What?” I jerked back.
“You are using the money I spent on your education against me by calling me a killer.” She sobbed and threw her nose down into the hanky. “This was your grandfather’s hanky.”
Our louder-than-whispering conversation had spurred a few shushes from the crowd.
I grabbed Mama by her wrist and dragged her up and out of the basement.
“You mean Poppa?” I asked, dropping her wrist once we’d made it outside.
I’d never heard her call him my “grandfather.”
“You know what I mean.” She sniffed.
“Mama.” I put my arm around her. “Give me something to go against all this evidence mounting up against you.” The lines on my forehead wrinkled. I swallowed. Hard. “You went a little nuts in Clay’s Ferry. You were seen at the hotel where Frank was staying right before Frank’s time of death. Mind you, you were upset. You have a black eye, which makes me wonder whose fist you ran into. You’re not your usual self. Give me something. Anything,” I begged.
“Fine.” All of a sudden the rush of tears dried. She pushed back her hair and jerked her shoulders back. She stood ram-rod straight.
“I wanted to look good. I’m not going to lie. I’d heard about someone doing those Botox parties at the condo complex on the river.” I wasn’t sure, but I think Mama tried to wiggle her eyes. Her forehead and brows were frozen. “I knew I was going to be doing newspaper interviews, radio interviews, and television interviews after Frank tasted my pot pie.”
“Botox party?” I groaned, knowing this was probably something illegal and I’d have to add it to my list of things to look into.
“Yes. You go and pay your twenty-five dollars.” She stopped when I put my hand in the air.
“Twenty-five dollars?” She and I both knew that was a red flag.
“Are you going to let me talk or keep interrupting me?” She crossed her arms, her face stern. She continued when I didn’t answer. “I went a couple of days ago. I sat in a kitchen chair and they stuck me with needles and put this stuff in my face. I have to say that I was pleased at first. You know that phone call I made after we left Clay’s Ferry?” she asked.
I nodded.
“I made an appointment to have more Botox injected. Late yesterday afternoon, I went back to get my eyes done again. The woman said she could make me look better and not blotchy. I was getting Botox around the timeframe you said Frank had passed. Then this showed up.” She pointed to her eye. “I got on the internet and Googled. I think I got a bad batch of Botox or got something else.”
“Mama, you had the Botox done around six?” This was good, but not perfect. I needed to know if she had given him a pot pie or not.
“That was the second time.” She drew in a deep breath through her nose. “I went right after I met Frank because I just wanted to make sure I looked good on the television.”
“That explains the eye. What about the food?”
“I have no idea how the food got there. I confess that I had an idea to make ribs like the place we went to eat in Clay’s Ferry. I’d even gone as far as to go to Danny Shane’s Dairy Barn to get some creamer to make the barbeque sauce thicker and spicier.”
“Yes, they did have good ribs.” I nodded.
“I didn’t give Frank anything. I am guilty of going to the hotel. Nanette gave me his room number. When I went up there, I had planned on asking him if he’d rather have barbeque or the pot pie. He told me that he’d gotten the pot pie I’d sent over and was doing his review and I wasn’t going to be happy.” She pulled her lips tight. “I didn’t take him a pot pie. I told him that I didn’t even make the pot pie yet, but he grinned and told me that’s what they all say once they get a bad review. I broke into tears and ran off. That’s when I rushed back to the Botox party.”
“Katy Lee saw you so upset after you’d run out of the stairwell.” I made a note to ask Nanette if someone had dropped off a pot pie at the hotel and what the time was to see if it went with the timeline Finn and I had put together.
“Yes. I couldn’t tell her that Frank told me he was going to write a bad review. So I did the best I could to keep it together. After I went to get my second injection, I went straight to the cooking class at Lulu’s Boutique. In fact, I had a plan to take Frank that pot pie I was going to make in class after we were finished so he could see the first one wasn’t mine. I swear.” She put her hand up like Scout’s honor. “Someone wanted him dead and they blamed it on me. Poor little ol’ me.” Mama sobbed into the hanky.
“I believe you.” I put my hand on her knee.
“You do?” she asked. She looked up at me, her eyes dry as a bone.
Chapter Fourteen
I strongly suggested that Mama keep a low profile until I got the evidence processed and saw if any more leads came up. Time was not on my side, and I could feel it nipping at my heels like an angry dog. Poppa had disappeared, proving to be no help, angry that the evidence pointed straight at Mama with very little wiggle room.
I found Nanette in her office at The Tattered Cover Books and Inn, sitting behind the computer looking at all the news that’d found its way on the internet about Frank’s murder.
“It’s everywhere.” Nanette’s eyes grazed the top of her computer. Her reading glasses sat on the edge of her nose.
Purdy, The Tattered Cover’s cat mascot, jumped up on the bookshelf behind Nanette and curled up on a pillow.
“May I?” I picked up one of the cat treats that was sitting on Nanette’s desk.
“Sure.” Nanette didn’t even look up at me. She continued to tap on her computer.
“Here you go, Purdy.” I put the treat next to her paw and ran my hand down her fur. She purred and took the treat.
She was a good cat. Nanette had a big sign posted and she told all the guests before they made a reservation that she had a cat. If they were allergic, they shouldn’t stay, because Purdy had free reign of the place.
“Kenni, this has to be solved or no one will ever come back to Cottonwood.” Nanette got my attention. “The food you found in his room was not from here. He didn’t ask for food.”
“Exactly how did you know about the food?” I asked since I knew I’d not disclosed any information to the public.
“Well...um...you know. Small town.” She meant gossip and someone had let the cat out of the bag. That someone had to be Betty Murphy.
I turned around and looked over her shoulder. She scrolled down a Google page and from the looks of the links the media had published their online news a couple of hours ago.
“Betty,” I said into the walkie-talkie and walked around the desk. “Can you please call the Reserve and let them know about Frank Von Lee’s murder? Tell them to send some officers down here in case more of the media outlets try to get a scoop on the story. And please stop gossiping about it.”
“Now Kenni, when people ask me things, I can’t lie. It’s not my nature.” Betty made an excuse.
“Betty.” I paused to make more of a point. “This is a murder investigation. We don’t tell anyone anything until we have all the facts and killer in custody.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Please make that call.”
“Will do, Sheriff.” Betty clicked back. “Also, Frank’s agent and the Culinary Channel people called to say they were coming. Mayor Ryland has called an emergency council meeting for tonight at seven p.m.”
“Thanks, Betty. I probably won’t be back at the office this afternoon.” I checked the time. It was almost three o’clock now and Mayor Ryland would want some sort of confirmation that our small town was safe and ease the citizens’ fears.
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything else,” Betty said.
I clicked off and scrolled the volume down so I could talk to Nanette.
“This is going to explode all over the media. I mean,” fear set on Nanette’s face, “this is a big deal when someone famous dies. Remember the media circus from Beryle Stone? No one is ever going to want to stay here again. I’m going to be run out of business.” She looked over my shoulder and out into the lobby, where a couple of guests were hanging out. “At least no one’s cancelled their room today. We’re full, and I feel like I’m going to
need the money if we do have a backlash.”
“This is why I’m here,” I said to Nanette as I sat down in the chair in front of her desk.
It was the perfect opportunity to dig my heels in and ask her questions during her vulnerable state. I dug down in my bag to get my tape recorder and remembered I’d left it at the office, so I grabbed my paper and pen.
“I’m sure you hear that I’ve got a few leads. I’m asking everyone who was there at the time and wanted to know what you remember. And if you remember seeing mama here around that time.”
“I don’t recall. I guess I was getting supper ready for the guests.” She busied herself with shuffling some papers.
“It’s okay. I know that you talked to Mama. I also know that Mama asked you for Frank’s room number.” I held my pen to the paper.
There was a silence. I waited.
“Nanette.” I eased up on the edge of the chair and leaned my arms on her desk. “I know that you don’t want to rat on her and that she’s my mama, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want justice brought for Frank’s murder. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to try to find out everything I can and hope it doesn’t point to Mama, but I’m the sheriff and I have to put all bias aside.” She looked at me. “This means that you can tell me everything.”
She nodded and took a deep swallow.
“Can you tell me about Vivian Lowry,” I decided to use Mama’s name to make it seem more professional, “coming in here on the afternoon of Frank Von Lee’s murder?”
She nodded again. I took my arms off the desk and sat back a little.
“I’d much rather tell Deputy Finn if you don’t mind,” Nanette said in a soft voice.
I offered a tucked-in lip smile. Who could blame her? I didn’t think about how this was going to make other people feel.
“Kenni!” Poppa appeared at the door. “Come quick!”
“I’ll have Finn come by.” I stood up, grabbed my bag, and headed out the office door.
