She heard the heavy stomps and commanding questions of police officers stepping up to the receptionist’s desk on the other side of the hallway. Recognizing Officer Tolland’s voice, Kate rose to her feet. “I’ll let them know we’re in here.”
In the anteroom, Kate found Tolland, Officer Garrison, and a rookie cop who looked far too thrilled. As she gave them her solemn greeting, Scott stepped through the door, nodded his thanks to the butler, and locked eyes with Kate.
“It’s the IT specialist,” she said in a low tone. “Room 5 upstairs.”
“She called you and not the station?” he asked.
“Apparently. You can ask her about it yourself. She’s in the lounge.”
When a pair of medics carrying a gurney passed through the entrance, Scott guided Kate out of their way. “I need you to keep this under your hat,” he said. “You know how rumors spread in this town, and there are too many reports for you to get away with even the most discreet comment.”
“Of course,” she said, a bit annoyed. She didn’t need to be told that. No one hated reporters more than Kate.
“Carly included,” he asserted.
“I can’t even talk to my best friend?”
Scott’s answer came in the form of his mouth pressing into a hard line.
“I’m going to tell Amelia I’m heading out,” she said, turning on her heel and crossing through to the lounge.
Amelia looked like a jittery mess, which explained why the cocktail waitress was setting a whiskey sour on the coffee table in front of her.
As Kate neared, preparing to offer some parting words, Amelia said, “I can’t have cops crawling all over my inn.”
“I’m sure they’ll work quickly and get out of your hair.”
Amelia snorted a laugh, as she pressed her cocktail to her lips.
Kate had the urge to tell her to look on the bright side. It wasn’t like the inn had any guests. She refrained, aware that making such an observation would only pour salt on Amelia’s wounds.
“I’m going to head out.”
“You didn’t tell him, did you? About the...ID number?”
“No,” said Kate. “I’ll let you do that. And Amelia? The more information Scott has, the better. You can’t keep things from him. He’ll find out.”
Amelia washed the point down with the rest of her drink, then set the glass on the coffee table and laced her fingers. “If you can let him know that I really must get back to the hospital...”
With a solemn smirk, Kate indicated she would and did just that as soon as she neared Scott, who was making his way to the stairs with his team.
“Go easy on her,” she said.
“A dead body in her inn only complicates a very complicated situation,” he said, implying that going easy on Amelia likely wouldn’t be possible. “I’ll see you tonight.”
As Kate made her way to the entrance of the inn, stepping into the hot afternoon sunlight, a national news van pulled to a screeching stop just shy of her toes, causing her to gasp and jump back.
The news crew jumped out. Kate didn’t wait for the reporter (a perky young blonde, who, in Kate’s opinion, was wearing far too much makeup) to hook up her microphones. “This is a private establishment!” she asserted. “You can’t be here.”
“Freedom of the press,” said the reporter with such an easy-breezy air that it set Kate’s teeth on edge. Not to mention the reporter was misusing the constitutional amendment she had referenced.
“How the hell did you even hear about this?” Kate demanded, blocking her entry to the inn.
With a coy smirk, the reporter said, “I never reveal my sources.” Then she confidently stepped around Kate, the news crew rushing after her, and entered Over the Moon.
By the time Kate reached her truck and climbed up behind the wheel, a terrible knot had begun twisting in her stomach. She couldn’t concentrate well enough to decide if she should return to the mayor’s office to finish her job there or head over to Jessica’s to get started on fixing her work table, so she headed towards the center of town, hoping she could sort it out while driving.
But as she neared all the little shops on Main Street, Kate still hadn’t come to a game plan for her day. Perhaps she was overwhelmed. Being strong for Jason and the Langleys in the wake of last night’s monumental disappointment had certainly taken a lot out of her. And now with Tommy Barkow having been found dead at Over the Moon, it seemed the tragedies were piling up faster than Scott could reconcile them. Why was it that so many murders in this town had linked back to Clifford Green? Even after his murder, the ex-convict was connected to Tommy’s murder, if only abstractly. Still, it was bothersome, but not more so than Clara’s consistent tight-lipped response.
Hoping to kill two birds with one stone, Kate edged towards the curb in front of Bean There.
Inside the coffee shop, Kate was alarmed to find it crowded. As soon as she had stepped in the door, she was met with a wall of people, and it wasn’t until she made her way to the end of the line, weaving through pressed bodies who had nowhere to sit, that she realized these weren’t residents but reporters.
When she finally reached the counter, Clara looked frazzled. Her barista assistant, Mary-Beth, was in no better shape.
“Hell of a day,” said Clara, wiping her brow with her apron and making no attempt to smile. “The explosion drew them in and I cannot wait for these reporters to get the hell of out town. What’s good for business isn’t always good for sanity!”
Kate couldn’t agree more, as someone shoved her from behind. When she turned to glare at the culprit, she found a weasely young man with tortoise-shell glasses and a mortified look on his face.
“I’m so sorry. Someone knocked into me.”
Furtively, Kate stared him down until he shrank then returned her gaze to Clara, who had already poured a tall, dark roast for Kate and set it on the counter. “Please tell me Scott’s making headway on finding whoever was behind that explosion. The sooner he solves the case, the faster these vultures will fly back to wherever it is they came from.”
All she could say was that Scott was doing his best, then added, “I need to ask you...when Clifford was staying at Over the Moon...he got a discount. Did he ever mention who did him the favor?”
Exhaustively, Clara sighed, planting her palms on the counter. “Kate, we’ve been over this. I already told you all I know. Can’t you get obsessed with the current crime and not dwell on past ones?” Kate only held her gaze, and soon Clara understood current and past crimes might be one in the same. “No way.”
“Not the explosion,” she clarified in a quiet voice. The coffee shop was plagued with reporters. If ever there was a place not to talk about Tommy Barkow, this was it. “But Clifford was staying at Over the Moon, and…well...”
Under her breath, Clara said, “Don’t tell me...”
Kate merely lifted her brows to confirm what they both were thinking.
“Who?” Clara asked.
Leaning over the counter, Kate whispered, “Tommy Barkow.”
“Tommy?”
“You knew him?”
“Everyone in town with a small business in need of a website knows Tommy. He put together Cookie’s site and one for Bean There, as well.”
“Did Clifford know him?”
Turning defensive, she snapped, “You need to get off Clifford’s case. He’s dead. There’s nothing to investigate.”
“I think Tommy was killed because he found out who gave Clifford that discount at the inn.”
“Kate, I love you, but you’re pushing it. I already told you what I know.” She pushed Kate’s to-go cup of coffee across the counter in request she pay up and be on her way. In response, Kate supplied her with the cash and turned, but Clara stopped her, saying, “At least the explosion is throwing the amusement park off schedule.”
“Is it?”
“How could it not?” she countered. “The cops have taken over the area. Dean must be freaking out.”
As Kate thanked her and turned for the door, it suddenly occurred to her that the botched ransom might have been botched for reasons she hadn’t considered.
What if the kidnapper hadn’t thrown the bomb as a means to kill Lance? What if the entire setup hadn’t been a ploy to get Lance alone at the site? What if a third party jumped on the opportunity and blew up the amusement park as a means to stop its development?
It made her head reel just thinking about it. The more Kate found out, the less sense it all made, and her chest felt tight because of it.
She drank her coffee as she walked to her truck. The temperature was climbing, which wasn’t a good sign for Jared’s office unless the maintenance crew at the municipal building had gotten around to fixing the broken AC. Assuming the problem hadn’t yet been solved, she sent a quick text to Jared, explaining that she would come by to finish his office in the early evening once it cooled off.
As soon as she was settled behind the wheel, her cell vibrated with her son’s quick reply. No problem, can’t blame you.
It crossed her mind to give Jessica a heads-up call that she was on her way, but Kate couldn’t stand to sit in her truck for a moment longer. The air was hot and muggy, and unless she got rolling, she would be in danger of sweating herself into puddle.
Kate had to watch her speed while driving to the Wentworth’s house. The faster she went, the more the wind blew through the truck, which felt so good she couldn’t help but step on the gas to maximize the relief.
When she reached Jessica’s house, she checked the road was clear in both directions then swung out, threw her truck into reverse, and backed up the driveway so that her supplies in the truck bed would be as close as possible to the front door.
It took some clever maneuvering to get her toolkit and the boards she would need. Realizing she would have to make a few trips, she started for the front door. As she did, she heard Jessica yelling inside the house, but couldn’t make out what she was saying. She set her toolkit on the ground in favor of knocking on the door, as Bradley began arguing with his mother.
“Just wait until Dean gets home!” yelled Jessica as she opened the door.
Before Kate could greet her, Bradley stomped through the living room, shouting, “He’s not my real dad!” Then he raced up the stairs.
“Sorry about that,” said Jessica. “Teenagers.”
Was he? Technically, Bradley was eighteen, but if memory served Kate correctly, and it often did, he was a bit too old to throw a hormone-induced fit.
“Not to worry,” she said, brushing over the display. “I’m here to fix your table.”
“Of course, come in.”
“You can leave it open,” said Kate before Jessica could close the door behind her. “I’ve got a few more things to bring in.”
Leading Kate into her fashion studio that was set off from the living room, Jessica offered her a cup of coffee.
“I won’t turn you down,” she said with a smile, even though she was still hopping from her last cup of coffee.
Kate set her toolkit down and began examining the faulty table leg right as Bradley took to stomping around upstairs.
In an instant, Jessica snapped her eyes to the ceiling and yelled, “Quiet!” Then she apologized to Kate, once more.
“You guys were getting along great, I thought.”
“We were, and are,” she said with a long sigh. After taking a deep breath, she neared Kate and disclosed, “I happened upon some...items in his room. Now we’re in the midst of a cliché fight.”
“Items?”
“He says it’s not his.” Jessica rolled her eyes at how trite the conflict was. “Yeah, like I’ll buy that. Oh, but please don’t tell anyone.”
Kate shook her head, indicating she wouldn’t.
“It’s just that Dean is going through so much right now. And with all those reporters in town and his high hopes of being reelected...we can’t survive a scandal.”
Dean had been doing a fine job as mayor, but at the end of the summer, all of Rock Ridge would take a vote on whether or not he could serve another term.
“His whole plan with the amusement park,” she went on, “was to get Rock Ridge back on financial track. Clearly, that’s going to be a challenge, thanks to the recent destruction. Dean was up all night worrying he would lose the residents’ confidence, and if word gets out that Bradley is selling drugs—”
“Bradley is selling drugs?” she asked, alarmed.
Again, Jessica sighed. “I don’t know that he’s selling, but I found a large box filled to the brim with what appeared to be white powder packed in plastic bags. Why would he have that kind of quantity if it was a recreational habit?”
“My God,” said Kate, absorbing the magnitude of the situation.
It sounded an awful lot like the drugs Daisy had dropped off at the Langleys’ mustard warehouse.
Chapter Four
After a solid night’s sleep beside Scott, who had actually made it home in time for dinner, Kate woke with the sun five minutes before her alarm sounded, showered and dressed, and was out the door.
The plan for the day, which had been much easier to devise than it had been yesterday, was to finish up Jared’s office before the temperature rose and then swing over to Meredith Joste’s house. Justina of Carnegie Real Estate was proceeding to sell Meredith’s art deco house, but with all of the foot traffic passing through during her open houses, there had been damage to the upstairs bathroom. Though it was only Justina’s guess, one of the youngsters of a wealthy couple had thrown a waste bin against the bathroom mirror, cracking it straight down the center.
Using her time wisely, Kate drove to Grayson’s Hardware and hunted through the bathroom aisle for a mirror that matched the photo Justina had sent to her cell phone.
As she honed in on one that suited Justina’s specifications, Larry trailed after her.
“I heard about Tommy Barkow,” he commented as if to get Kate to spill details she might know. “He did Grayson’s website, you know.”
Facing him, she asked, “You have a website?”
“It was one of our larger expenses last year. No one uses it, though.”
It didn’t surprise her. Most contractors spent their days out on jobs and not hunched over their computers making online orders.
“He was a nice guy. Young,” he went on, ruminating the finer points of Tommy’s characteristics. “He went to MIT, I heard. He should’ve been a chemical engineer and not stuck in Rock Ridge making a living doing tech support.”
“I never met him,” she said. “Did he grow up here?”
Larry shrugged, implying Tommy had, which was the only logical reason he would stay in Pennsylvania after graduating from the world-renowned technical institution in Massachusetts.
Pulling a large mirror off the shelf, she said, “This one looks good.”
“I’ll get that rung up for you.”
“Hey, Larry?”
He rested the bottom edge of the mirror on his work boot and gave her his full attention.
“Would it be possible to start another tab with you?”
He chuckled. “Sure.”
She had been doing fine with her finances and splitting expenses with Scott ever since they’d gotten married. It had lifted a huge weight from her shoulders. But Jason hadn’t been working consistently. Dean had agreed to give Jason a day to shake off the blow of the botched ransom exchange, but one day of recovery was no guarantee her son would bounce back. He might need a little help with his bills.
Larry scanned the mirror into his computer and then typed away on the keyboard, entering the item under a new tab. “Need help getting that out to your truck?” he asked, as he slid the mirror from the counter, Kate gripping its sides to help him.
She tested the mirror’s weight then decided, “I can handle it. Thanks again!”
After opening the drop-door at the back of her truck, she gingerly slid the mirror into the bed. It wasn’t exactly resting
flat since there was a shallow pile of wood beneath it, the materials she hadn’t needed to fix Jessica’s table yesterday, but Kate figured if she drove slow, the mirror wouldn’t crack.
The mayor’s office was quiet when she stepped into the anteroom with her toolkit. Dean was tucked in his office with the door open just a crack. She could hear him speaking, and it sounded like he was on a stressful telephone call.
As she passed through, glancing at the empty receptionist’s desk, she found Jared at his desk in the hallway.
“Oh thank God,” he said, popping out of his chair to give her a hug. “Please tell me you’ll be done in a few hours, so I don’t have to work in the hallway anymore.”
“I’ll do my best,” she said, as she felt cool air breezing through. “They fixed the AC?”
“Miracle of miracles.”
She set her toolkit beside the furniture pieces she would need to assemble in his new office.
Itemizing the boxes, Jared said, “All you have to do is the shelving unit, and I bought these two smaller ones. Also, I found this on the sidewalk.” He gave a coffee table a little kick with his foot and Kate smiled.
“You’re going to need a couch,” she commented, visualizing how to make his office cozy as well as an adequate workspace.
“Shocks me what people toss on the curb for the garbage man,” said Jared. “If you need anything, I’m right out here.”
“Oh hey,” she said, catching him. When he met her gaze, she asked, “How’s Jason doing?”
Jared pressed his mouth into a hard line and she was sorry she asked. “I don’t know how he’s doing. I can tell you what he’s not doing—answering my calls, responding to my texts, coming to the door when I stop by the house.”
“Please tell me that’s because he’s busy at work at the amusement park.”
“Not by a long shot. Truth be told, I don’t know where the hell he disappears to.”
Mrs. Fix It Mysteries, Season 2 (5 Cozy Mystery Books Collection) Page 22
