by Jessica Beck
“Jake, I need you over here,” I said without disturbing the cloth.
“Hang on one second,” he said absently. “I think I might be onto something.”
“This is important!”
That got his attention. As he walked over to me, I saw that he was frowning. “What is it, Suzanne? I had the inkling of an idea, but now it’s gone.”
I pointed to the torn cloth. “This counts more than a fleeting thought. Look at this. I know for a fact that it wasn’t here yesterday.”
Jake knelt down and studied the fragment without touching it, either. After he took a few photographs of its location with his cellphone, he said, “I’m fairly certain that it wasn’t there, either. Whoever left this behind must have done it last night when we spooked them.”
“I don’t know who did the actual spooking,” I said. “All we have to do now is find the shirt this tear matches, and we could have our killer.”
“Or not,” Jake said as he pulled out a plastic baggy and placed the cloth inside.
“Since when did you start carrying evidence bags on you?”
“Since I started digging into murder with you,” he said. “These aren’t official. I just grabbed a few baggies from our pantry at home.” I loved when he called our cottage home.
“Why don’t you think it will help?” I asked.
“Suzanne, chances are that whoever tore their shirt knew it and disposed of it. I’m guessing that we’ll never find the original garment this matched.”
“Maybe not, but at the very least, it eliminates Descent from our equation, don’t you think?”
“What if he has a red-checked flannel shirt, too?” Jake asked.
“What are the odds of that? Sully and his men wore them as a kind of a uniform, and just because Shirley’s bathrobe pattern matched last night, that doesn’t mean that her closet’s full of them, too. At least that much could have been a coincidence.”
“So, you think that either Bob or Jim killed Sully?”
I shook my head. “I’m not willing to go that far, but they do both deserve closer looks. I just wish we could get into their closets and have a look around.”
Jake looked at me carefully. “Suzanne, I’m not breaking into anyone’s apartment, do you understand that?”
“Relax, Jake. I wasn’t suggesting it,” I said.
“Really, because that’s what it sounded like to me.”
“There must be another way to do it without breaking the law,” I said.
“First, we have to find Bob Greene,” Jake said. “I know we’re both hungry, but if we stop to eat, we might miss him.”
“I can go without food as long as you can,” I said. My stomach betrayed me by rumbling at that moment. “Pay no attention to that,” I added with a grin.
“Don’t worry. We’ll eat soon enough,” he said as we headed back to the front.
Officer Griffin was pulling down the last of the crime scene tape as we walked out.
“Is the building officially being released now?” Jake asked him.
“Yes, sir,” he replied. Though Jake was no longer an officer of the law, he still commanded the respect he deserved.
“Like I said before, just call me Jake, Happy. Do you happen to know where your boss is at the moment?”
“I sure do. He’s at the Boxcar,” Officer Griffin volunteered.
“Thanks,” Jake said.
As we got into his truck, I said, “I thought we were going to look for Bob before we ate, not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
“We are, but we need to bring Grant up to date on what we’ve found first. We can’t conduct searches, but he can. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and one of our suspects neglected to get rid of that torn shirt.”
“Only if they were drunk,” I said.
“Well, wouldn’t they both qualify as being inebriated last night?” Jake asked as he drove us to the diner.
“Bob was a little tipsy, but I’m starting to have second thoughts about Jim’s true condition,” I said.
“Why do you say that? I thought Jim Burr was the one who looked the drunkest between the two of them.”
“There’s something I’ve been wondering about. It almost felt as though it was all just an act. When we found them at the bar, Jim seemed to be hammered, and when we got to Shirley’s, he kept acting as though he was under the influence, but I’m beginning to wonder whether he was ever really that drunk, or was he just putting a show on for our benefit?”
“That hadn’t occurred to me, but I suppose that it’s possible,” Jake said. “At this point, we really can’t know one way or the other. The real question is if you’re right, what would it serve him for us to believe that he was drunk?”
“Maybe he was hiding something, or it’s even possible that his attack on Shirley’s character was part of his scheme all along, and he wanted to be stone sober in order to sell it. Honestly, I’m not exactly sure yet, but I’ll keep thinking about it and I’ll get back to you.”
“You do that,” Jake said with a grin.
When we got to the diner, the police chief’s squad car was there, but it wasn’t empty.
Acting Police Chief Stephen Grant was in the front seat, arguing with someone on the passenger side, and it only took me a moment to realize it was Grace.
What was this about?
When they spotted us, they stopped talking instantly and Grace opened her door.
Chief Grant said, “Grace, hang on one second. I said I was sorry.”
“I heard you the first time,” she said primly, “but I’m still not sure that I believe you.”
“Is that why you’re still angry with me?” he asked her.
“Boy, they sure picked the right man to be the new police chief, didn’t they? You’re quite the detective, aren’t you?”
As Grace marched quickly toward us, I asked her softly, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said softly as she gave me a secret wink, and then she stopped and turned to her boyfriend, who was five steps behind her. “On the other hand, the chief has a serious need to get his priorities in order.”
“I can’t just drop whatever I’m doing whenever you call. This is important.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he realized that he’d made a mistake. “Not that you aren’t,” he added quickly, but it was too late.
Grace’s smile could have cut diamonds. “Understood. Thanks for clearing that up.”
She kept walking, past the diner and through the park where we both had shortcuts to our homes.
“Are you honestly going to go after her?” I asked Chief Grant as he started in her direction.
“Suzanne, what choice do I have? I’ve got to make her see reason,” he said.
“Would you care for some free advice, worth exactly what it’s going to cost you?” I asked him gently.
“Maybe later,” the chief said. “I need to make her see that she’s being completely unreasonable about this.”
“Good luck with that,” I said, doing my best not to smile.
Jake stepped in front of him, effectively barring his way. “Stephen, it might not hurt to listen to what Suzanne has to say.”
Chief Grant was about to step around him when he must have reconsidered. After a second of hesitation, he turned to me. “What is it you wanted to say to me?”
“Give her ten minutes to cool off before you go after her,” I said. “If you press her right now, you might as well be arguing with a brick wall.”
“I’d love to give her the time, but I’ve got a job to do,” he said, his voice clearly deflated. “I didn’t mean to forget our lunch date, but something came up. She keeps claiming that I don’t make her my priority, but right now I just can’t.”
“Find a way to let her know how special she is to you,” Jake said calmly. “If you let it, this job will eat you alive, and trust me, at the end of the day, you’ll be old and alone with no one around who cares one bit whether you live or you die.”
“Wow, that’s pretty grim,” Chief Grant said thoughtfully.
“It was meant to be. While you’re waiting for a little time to pass before you try talking to Grace again, you really should look at this,” he said as he pulled the torn piece of shirt from his pocket, now safely secured in a plastic bag.
“Where did you find this?” the chief asked, clearly back in his element.
“Don’t give me the credit. Suzanne found it hooked on a nail by the back door. It wasn’t there yesterday, so our best guess is that whoever’s shirt it came off of was there last night when we showed up.”
The chief took the fabric from Jake and studied it. “This black-and-red-check pattern seems to keep showing up, doesn’t it?”
“That means that we’re all on the same track,” Jake said.
“But it still leaves us with at least two suspects,” the chief said.
“Actually, we have three that like this pattern,” I corrected him, and then we told him about Shirley’s robe the night before.
“Three it is,” the chief agreed, and then he looked off in the direction of where Grace had just left. “Is that enough time for her to cool down, do you think?”
I considered it, and then I said, “You still have a few minutes, just to play it safe. Why don’t you stop by the flower shop and get her some yellow roses before you go over there?”
“Why not red ones?” he asked. I liked that he hadn’t argued with me about the need to give her flowers at all. It was clear the man wanted to make amends for missing their lunch.
“She likes red just fine, but she’s a sucker for yellow.”
“Good tip,” the chief said, and then he patted his shirt pocket where the fabric scrap now resided. “Thanks for turning this over to me, too.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Jake said as he pulled out his phone. “I also took a few shots with my camera of where we found it.”
“Send them to me, would you?” the chief asked.
“I’d be happy to.”
After he was gone, Jake said, “Suzanne, that was nice of you to help him.”
“I was doing it more for Grace than for Stephen,” I admitted, “though I like him just fine, too.”
“Either way, it was sweet.”
I looked at the diner’s front door, so close and yet so far away, and then I put on my bravest face. “Okay. Let’s go find Bob Greene.”
Jake laughed. “I don’t suppose twenty minutes will hurt. Let’s go on in and grab a bite first before we tackle him.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Neither one of us is going to be thinking clearly if we’re both hungry. If we get two of Trish’s lunch specials, we can be in and out before we know it.”
It didn’t turn out to be that way in the end, though.
Fate had other plans for us that afternoon.
Chapter 18
“Come join me,” my stepfather said as he beckoned from a table near the back. I didn’t see how there would be room for us, since the top was covered with what looked like faded old letters and ancient newspapers.
“Is there any room for us?” I asked him as we approached.
“No worries. I can stack this stuff up and make enough space for you both,” he said as he began to do just that.
“What is all of this?” Jake asked as he looked down at the papers.
“Dot wants to commemorate the history of the wagon factory inside the space, and I think it’s a great idea. She’s had me going through old letters, newspaper clippings, that kind of thing ever since she bought the place. I’ve found the most fascinating things. For example,” he said as he rustled through a few of the papers, “here’s a sheet from the old factory payroll. Look at those wages.”
I glanced at the paper and whistled.
Phillip grinned at me. “I know what you mean, but don’t forget, things were a whole lot cheaper to buy back then, too.”
“I know, but it’s still interesting,” I said. I could see how he might get hooked on digging into our local history.
“You’re really enjoying your retirement, aren’t you?” Jake asked him as we settled in.
“Are you kidding? I’m so busy it’s hard to believe that I ever had time for work before. I’ve always been interested in local history, and now I have all of the time in the world to dig around in the dusty corners of April Springs.”
“I’m glad you found something to keep you busy,” I said as Trish approached. I turned to my good friend and said, “Two specials, please.”
“The catch of the day is meatloaf, mashed potatoes with brown gravy, and green beans. I can tell you from first-hand experience that it’s an excellent choice. Two teas as well?”
“That sounds great to me,” Jake said as he studied one of the letters Phillip had collected.
Trish laughed as she looked at me. “It looks as though your husband is catching the bug now, too. Chief, can I get you anything else?”
“I told you to call me Phillip, Trish,” he said.
“Sorry, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Once the chief, always the chief.”
Phillip grinned, clearly pleased to keep the designation, even though he no longer held the job. “I could use more coffee whenever you get a chance, but there’s no hurry at all.”
“Coming right up,” she said, and then she turned back to me. “I’ll be back in two shakes with your food.”
“We’ll be here,” I said. After she was gone, I started to ask Jake something when I saw the expression on his face. “Jake, what is it?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but I just found something,” he said as he pointed to the letter in his hands.
“You saw it, too? That’s what I wanted to show you,” Phillip said enthusiastically. “You read about the mention of gold at the factory, didn’t you?”
“Is there really gold hidden somewhere in that old building?” I asked the men softly. The last thing I wanted to do was to encourage anyone else to visit the old wagon factory after dark looking to enhance their bank account.
“I don’t know if it’s still there, but it appears that there was a great deal of it at some point,” Jake said. “Listen to this. It’s from Martin Polly, the man who used to own the company.” He read aloud, “I don’t trust banks. Never have, never will. I like to keep what’s mine close. Besides, if I kept it with Harley in his vault, I wouldn’t be able to take it out at night and let it dance through my fingers. It always amazes me how heavy gold coins really are. Paper money is fine for payroll, but I prefer something I can sink my teeth into. Evidently, other folks do, too. Someone broke into the factory last night, and unless they had a sudden hankering for a new buggy, they were looking for my secret stash. They didn’t find it, though, and they never will. I’m too smart for them. What I have is safer than a locked steel door any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but they also protect me and what’s mine. If someone did happen to stumble across it, I’d lose more than…”
Jake turned the letter over, but he frowned when he saw that it was blank. “That’s it?”
“I haven’t found the rest of the letter yet,” Phillip explained, “but I’m not about to give up.”
“Let me know when you track it down,” Jake said.
“I didn’t know you were interested in history, too,” my stepfather said.
“It’s intriguing, but I’m more concerned with the present right now. If there’s still gold somewhere in that building, it could give the killer plenty of motive.”
“After all these years, do you honestly think there’s a chance that any gold is still on the premises?” I asked them both.
“Why not?” Phillip asked. “Martin Polly died of a heart attack in his sleep, and as far as I can tell, he never told anyone where he’d hidden his gold. As far as I’ve been able to determine, nobody’s found it in all these years.”
“What about the cash we found?” I asked Jak
e.
“That could have just been the paper money he kept for payroll that he talked about in the letter,” my husband said. “It’s beginning to seem as though there are two caches of value there.”
“And it’s just been sitting there all these years waiting to be discovered,” I said.
“Maybe. Then again, it could all be gone now,” Jake replied. “If someone stumbled across it, it’s not likely that they’d broadcast the news.”
“Well, we know for a fact that at least some of it was still there until very recently,” I said. I was about to add more when Trish brought our food and drinks. I thanked her as she placed them in front of us. “I have a question for you.”
“Shoot,” she said.
“Have you gotten any odd-looking money as payment lately?”
“Do you mean counterfeit?” she asked me with a frown.
“No, it’s perfectly legal currency. It’s just old,” I said.
Trish looked surprised. “How did you know?”
“Are you saying that you got some, too?”
The diner owner reached into her apron and pulled out a pair of twenties from the same vintage as the one that I’d found in my own till. “Do yours look like these?”
“May I see those for one second?” Jake asked.
Trish handed them over. “They’re still good, aren’t they?”
“They are,” Jake said as he studied the bills intently, forgetting all about his late lunch. After a moment, he dug out his wallet, and then he frowned. “Suzanne, I’ve got thirty bucks in my wallet, but I need ten more.”
“Let me check to see if I have it,” I said as I grabbed my own slim wallet.
Phillip beat me to it, though. “Here you go,” he said as he handed Jake the money.
I found a five and five ones and handed them to Jake instead. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got this covered.”
“It’s no problem,” he said as he tucked his offered money back into his pocket. Was there a slight look of pain in his eyes as he did it? I hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings by refusing his money. It was something that I’d have to fix later.
Jake handed the money to Trish. “Mind if we swap?”
