by Tonya Kappes
“Well!” The scream from the back caused everyone to turn around. “Doesn’t that just take the cake!”
Mama stood in the back with her big black shiner on display for everyone to see.
“I didn’t kill no one!” She stomped up to the center of the room. I swear I heard people shudder. I know I did. “If you think that, then you can cuff me right now.”
She stopped in front of Finn and threw her wrists out in front of her like she’d done to me earlier in the day, almost in the exact same spot in fact. Finn looked between Mama and me.
“Order!” Mayor Ryland banged the gavel and pointed it at her. “You will take a seat before I have Deputy Vincent arrest you for being a public nuisance.”
“Arrest me, you big oaf!” Mama had just called the mayor stupid. I braced myself.
“Don’t you be calling my fiancé an oaf!” Polly Parker jumped up from the front row.
“Fiancé?” Myrna chimed in. “Did she say fiancé?” she leaned over and asked Doolittle.
Doolittle nodded.
“Err...” Polly’s pale face reddened. “Um...” She took a couple of steps back to her seat. Mayor Ryland’s chin hung to his chest. “Chance,” Polly pleaded in her little girl voice. She didn’t care what he thought, because she went right on. “Yes. Chance and I are going to be married.” She beamed. Her big white horse teeth appeared as her open-wide grin spread across her face. Her hands were clasped behind her. Her body twisted right and left. “This is our official engagement announcement. Our wedding is going to be the biggest event Cottonwood has ever seen.”
Polly looked around the room before she sat back down on the folding chair.
Mama looked at me and I rolled my eyes. It was just like a council meeting to turn to gossip. Edna Easterly pushed off the wall and started snapping photos of the mayor’s face and of Polly, whose eyes were glaring at Chance as though they were having a telepathic conversation.
“People, my personal life is of no concern and has no bearing on what the council and I are trying to do tonight.” He spoke with an even tone. “Polly Parker is going to be the next first lady of the town. She’s right. We are going to have everyone at our wedding.”
Polly was all giggles now. She sat up and held her hand in the air, showing off the big diamond I’d seen on her hand the other day. No doubt they’d gotten a discount from White’s Jewelry since Polly worked part-time down there for Viola.
“Back to business.” Chance tried to get the community to stop congratulating Polly.
I couldn’t help but notice Pete Parker’s—Polly’s father and ex-best friend of the mayor—face. The more his jaw tensed, the redder his face got. It was just hearsay, but I’d heard over a hand of Euchre that after Pete found out about the mayor’s and his daughter’s secret love shack out in the woods, Pete and Chance had pretty much beat the poo out of each other. Chance had been Polly’s godfather, and from what I’d heard, Pete told him that he wasn’t no godfather, he was a sick old man that was making his daughter the laughingstock of the town. He’d even tried to get Polly to break it off, but she moved out and into the mayor’s house. By the look on Pete’s face and the lack of communication with Polly or Chance, I’d say the gossip was pretty close to being true. Unlike Mama killing someone.
“Can I have your attention?” I jumped to the stage and took the gavel from Chance. I gave it a quick couple of bangs. “You don’t have to go back to your seats, but I do have something to say.”
“You tell them, Kenni.” Poppa was nose to nose with Mayor Ryland. “Don’t you dare back down from your position while he waltzes in here to take over your office. I’m not so sure that wasn’t his plan this whole time.”
“There is more than one suspect in the case of Frank Von Lee. I do see how this looks like a conflict of interest for me.” I cleared my throat. “I’m more than happy to let Deputy Finn Vincent take the lead on this case and use my expertise about our town and our citizens to help him. There are plenty of other cases I can be working on. Which brings me to a scam going around Cottonwood. There is someone distributing illegal handicap tags. If you or someone you know has a pink handicap tag, please call the sheriff’s department. The only way to get a handicap tag is through the county clerk’s office at the courthouse.”
“Wait.” Poppa ghosted over to me. I saw his eyes, large glittering ovals of repudiation. “You can’t just lay down like that. You have to be on the case. You have to figure this out. You’re the sheriff.”
Before I could say anything else, Mayor Ryland jerked the gavel out of my hands and beat it on the podium, making my decision official.
“Kenni.” Finn put his hand out to stop me when I stepped down and into the crowd.
“It’s okay, Finn.” I offered a smile. There was more behind the smile than he knew. Now I felt a little freedom to investigate as I pleased without being watched.
“Come on, Duke.” I grabbed Mama by the elbow and dragged her down the aisle alongside me and Duke. She didn’t need to be in here running her mouth and getting herself deeper in trouble. I didn’t need to stay in there and listen any longer. I’d come to say my piece and now I had a job to do.
“Can you believe about the mayor and Polly getting married?” I shook my head and pulled Mama closer to me. I didn’t want to talk about what I had planned to get her off the hook or the other case I was referring to.
“Did you see how she was dressed?” Mama seemed more than happy to get the heat off of her. “I reckon he likes her dressing like a hooker.”
I threw my head back and laughed.
“I love you, Mama.” I tugged her even closer. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee from Ben’s.”
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning I woke up in a foul mood. Not only had Finn tried to call several times, he’d even stopped by. Even though I told him it was okay, it really wasn’t. I’d already had my ego bruised and needed to set that aside, but I needed a day to process it. He wasn’t as familiar with Cottonwood and he wasn’t in the gossip circle like I was, which was going to make it hard for him to get some little tidbits of information that I’d always found helped investigations.
Was he trying to get ahold of me so bad because he wanted to scold me for my words that were just words on the tape recorder? Or was he feeling bad that he’d taken the case right out of my hands and never once tried to protest it? If it was an emergency, dispatch would’ve called me, so I ignored him.
It wasn’t until around three a.m. that I’d finally fallen asleep. Not a peaceful sleep. It was riddled with nightmares that included some weird things like being chased by a big diamond ring that lassoed itself around me. After the ring caught me, Finn was at the ready with a pair of handcuffs and hauled me down to the jail cell, which I had to share with Mama and her striped prison jumpsuit. I finally woke up after Frank Von Lee slid a plate of chicken pot pie between the bars of the jail. He was laughing the whole time, telling Mama and me that it was our turn to eat the poisoned food so we knew exactly how he felt.
That was enough to jar me awake. My phone next to the bed showed that I’d missed a phone call from Betty Murphy. She didn’t leave a message. I pulled the covers off and slipped my feet into my slippers and grabbed my sweatshirt.
“Let’s go potty,” I called to Duke over my shoulder as I tugged my sweatshirt over my head.
On our way down the hall, I called Betty back, flipped on my coffee pot, and let Duke out into the backyard, but not before looking to see if Finn was back there.
“Kenni,” Betty whispered in the phone. This wasn’t like her.
“Are you at the office?” I asked, wondering why she was so quiet.
“Yes,” she answered hesitantly.
“You can talk to me. I’m still the sheriff and will be coming into the office this morning.” I took a mug out of the kitchen cabinet and waited for the coffee to
brew. “I’ve got other cases to work.”
“I wanted to let you know that I put those seed packets in the planter on your porch where you asked me to put them,” she said.
“Are you feeling all right?” I asked her.
“Yes. Finer than frog’s hair. Now, go get those seeds and start to water them so they can grow. You have limited time with this one,” she said.
“Betty, are you talking in code?” I asked.
“Yep. That’s the planter.” She could’ve just said that in the first place. “A little fair warning. The press and media are camped out in the alley in front of the department.”
“I’ll deal with it when I come in.” I groaned, knowing I was going to have to get all gussied up to have my picture taken and be interviewed by the media. “Can you please call Finn and let him know that he needs to be there to answer questions since he’s in charge of the case?”
“Sure thing, Kenni.” Betty clicked off.
I walked to the front of the house and opened the front door. There was a planter on the small concrete slab full of a dead fern that I’d planted last summer and didn’t bother taking out for the winter. It didn’t go unnoticed by Mama. Every time she came over, she liked to remind me that there was a dead fern on my front porch.
When I opened the door, there was a corner of paper sticking out from underneath the planter. I looked both ways down Free Row to see if anyone was out before I picked it up, because you never knew who was watching these days and apparently whatever Betty had stuck under the planter was private or secret.
I tipped the planter up on its edge and pulled the folded paper out. When I got back in the kitchen, I put the paper on the table and let Duke in. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down, dragging my legs up underneath me.
I opened the paper and flattened it out in front of me. I sipped my coffee and read through all of Mundy’s background check. He’d been kicked out of many restaurants. And there was a connection between him and Frank Von Lee. It just so happened that Mundy had been one of Frank’s students in a New York culinary class. By the looks of the report, Frank had kicked Mundy out of the class. The last culinary school he’d attended was the one where Ben Harrison had graduated where they’d been classmates.
After Mundy had graduated, he went to work at Le Fork, a nationwide chain that held classes for the common folk like me. He’d worked there until a month ago.
“Where was he between four weeks and a week ago?” Poppa stood by the counter next to the coffee pot. He sniffed the steam. “I sure would love a cup.”
“I’m going to have another.” I stood up and refilled my cup. “So I guess you’re not mad at me anymore.”
“I was never mad at you.” He looked out the window. “I just don’t understand why you gave up so easy.”
On my way back to the table to finish reading the paperwork Betty had snuck over, I filled up Duke’s bowl with food and grabbed my phone.
“I didn’t give up. I’m using my brain.” I scrolled through and hit the call button when I found Jolee’s name. “I can still look into the murder. Only now all eyes won’t be on me.” I shrugged and put the phone up to my ear. “I don’t have to make official reports unless I find something.”
“Which we will.” The color came back to Poppa’s face. “You’re still going to get your mama off the hook.”
“Yep. Thanks to Betty.” I eased back down into the chair, pulling my legs back up.
“I was going to call you this morning.” Jolee answered the phone without saying hello.
“I beat you to the punch.” I said. “I’ve got a quick television press conference this morning.”
“Press conference?” She interrupted. “Ooh la la.”
“Whatever. Anyways, I wanted to know if the offer still stands to go shopping.”
“You mean to tell me that I can drag you forty-five minutes from here into Lexington, shop for a few hours, and then drive forty-five minutes back?” she asked with a hint of caution in her voice. “Because you want to get all dolled up for the TV?”
“No,” I said flatly. “I want to go after the press conference.”
“Fine. If I have to settle, then you have to buy a cute pair of shoes today,” she said, driving a hard bargain.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m tired of you thinking that every outfit goes with cowboy boots.” She laughed.
“They don’t?” I asked, setting her off into a firestorm of how I needed to step up my fashion game. “I’ll drive.”
“What? You don’t want to be seen in the food truck?” she asked.
“I’m sure smelling like food isn’t good for my fashion sense either.” I took a drink of coffee. “Just joking. I don’t mind driving, besides, I want to go to Le Fork.”
“Oh, are you planning on cooking a romantic supper for a special someone?” she asked.
“No.” I hadn’t told Jolee about the latest setback in my relationship with Finn. I looked around for a quick kitchen tool I could purchase there. “I’m thinking about getting a French press.”
I hoped my lie wasn’t too far-fetched since she knew I loved coffee.
“I can show you the best ones,” she squealed.
I probably should’ve realized anything with food would get her all worked up.
“I’ll be over in an hour.” I hung up.
“What’s on your mind?” Poppa asked.
“It says here that Mundy taught classes there up until a month ago.” I tapped the paper. “That’s about the time Ben and Mama got word from the Culinary Channel that Frank Von Lee wanted to come try Mama’s pot pie for the show. They didn’t give Ben a specific date, but you know how fast news spreads.”
“Mundy quit his job and came into town to work for Ben while Ben took care of the show gig.” Poppa was right on track with what I was thinking.
“I was in the diner the other morning when Mundy was screaming about the construction work and how loud it was. Ben said to Mundy that Mundy jumped at the chance to work for Ben since they knew each other.” My brows cocked. I took another sip.
“It would be easy to find out about or get Malina to talk about Frank’s arrival. Mundy is smart, so he probably checked the only two places to stay in Cottonwood. Malina probably told him because he flirted with her.”
“It doesn’t seem like much flirting was needed to get information from her,” Poppa said.
“And Mundy’s room was right next to Frank’s.” It was the small details that helped solve a murder.
“Did Malina let Mundy cook in the inn’s kitchen?” Poppa asked. “The pot pie that Frank was eating was in a dish, not a cardboard frozen-dinner container.”
“So it’s safe to say that the container thing is probably not related to the murder?” I stared at Poppa.
“I’d say we go on what we know and keep it in the back of our minds, but not focus so much on it.” He slipped away.
It was so amazing how much I’d learned from Poppa when he was living and was still learning from him from the great beyond now.
Here was what I knew. Mama had the most to lose from a bad review, but the evidence pointing at her was just too obvious. Mundy, on the other hand, made himself obvious by fighting with Ben. Which I couldn’t help but think was his plan all along so Ben would be out of the kitchen and Mundy would be able to replicate Mama’s recipe, once again making Mama look like the killer.
Mundy had the greatest motive. Mama could get over the embarrassment of a bad review. After all, she was a southern woman. But Mundy was a scorned chef with a big ego that couldn’t graduate from one of the biggest culinary schools in the United States. I had to believe that followed him to any reputable job at the fancy restaurants where he wanted to be the head chef.
Someone at Le Fork had to know where he was. He’d been employ
ed there the longest. Surely he’d made some friends.
Chapter Nineteen
When Betty said that the media was camped out in the alley in front of the department, I didn’t imagine truly camped out. But there were several white vans with television equipment on the top and some big satellites, their station’s names printed on the side.
There were at least ten that lined from one end of the alley to the other end. On The Run, Jolee’s food truck, was parked in my spot next to the dumpster in front of the department door. I pulled the Wagoneer up to the building and parked tight to Jolee’s truck so not to block the alley in case there was an emergency.
“That’s the sheriff,” I overheard one of the reporters telling her videographer.
With a quick check of the lip gloss I’d put on before I left, I got out of the car.
“Look at you.” Jolee grinned. “If only we had different shoes.” She jerked a scowl when she noticed I’d put on my cowboy boots.
“At least this is a new shirt.” I referred to the brown sheriff’s uniform shirt and brown pants. “And the hair is down.” I wiggled my brows. “I wasn’t going to get caught looking like the last rose of summer.”
When Betty had mentioned the media this morning, I had to take that extra time to actually put on makeup and fix my hair.
“Good morning,” I greeted the crowd and everyone rushed over. “I’ll be more than happy to take a few questions after I give a brief statement.”
In the distance, there was a feather swaying in the air and rushing towards the department. It was attached to Edna Easterly’s fedora. She scurried to the front of the media with her pen and pad in hand.
“As you know, we are investigating the homicide of Frank Von Lee. We are working on several leads and interviewing several suspects.” “Several” was a bit of a stretch when we’d only interviewed Mama. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Finn’s Charger pull up. It was time to include him and the best way to ease into talking to him since our little spat. “I’ve handed the lead investigation over to Deputy Finn Vincent.”
