by J A Whiting
Finch raised an eyebrow. “Despite how much I enjoy helping the members of this family, please excuse me from the task, Miss Angie.”
“You’re excused, Mr. Finch.” Angie looked at Ellie. “I need one volunteer to test the bread.”
“Nope. Not me. No way.” Ellie washed broccoli and carrots in the sink without even looking at Angie. “I have the B and B to run. I can’t be incapacitated.”
“My dear twin sister,” Angie began, but was shut down by Jenna.
“Don’t bother sweet talking me.” Jenna shook her head. “I won’t do it either.”
Angie shifted her gaze to Courtney.
“You know I love you.” Courtney took out some ingredients to make rice. “But the answer is no. Sorry, sis. I’m not being a guinea pig. I am not eating that blueberry bread.”
“Did someone say blueberry bread?” Tom came into the kitchen from the back door. “I’d be glad to eat Angie’s bread.” He walked over to kiss Jenna and she explained to him what was going on.
“Huh.” Tom sat on the stool that had been vacated by Courtney. “I’ll help you, Angie.”
“You will?” Angie’s eyes went wide.
“I don’t have any special powers.” Tom spoke seriously. “So I’d like to help with this case in any way I can.”
Angie saw the look of alarm that passed over Tom’s face and she glanced over her shoulder to see Jack Ford standing near the entrance from the mud room.
“Special powers? Help with the case?” Jack asked. “What does that mean?” Jack stood in the kitchen staring at Tom.
Ellie rushed over and wrapped Jack in a hug. Looking over Jack’s shoulder, she shot daggers out of her eyes at Tom. Tom gave a sheepish shrug. Ellie took Jack’s arm and led him to the dining room. “Tom loves to kid about everything. It doesn’t mean anything. Come have some treats. We’ve just put out the evening snacks.”
When they were gone, Tom said, “Jeez, I need to be more careful. I didn’t notice he was there.”
Tom’s words sent a shiver over Angie’s skin. “You said that before when Jack came in unexpectedly and both times it made me feel anxious. It means something.”
“What?” Tom asked. “What does it mean?”
Angie shrugged. “I don’t know.” She slipped the bread pan into the oven and set the timer. “But we’re going to find out.”
19
Angie sat across from Tom at the kitchen table. Everyone else had moved into the family room. Except the cats, they maintained their position on top of the fridge.
“So what do I do?” Tom looked down at the platter set on the table in between him and Angie.
“I’ll slice a piece and you just have to eat it.”
“How long will the spell last?”
“When Mr. Finch ate the muffin, it lasted about three hours.” She used her fingers to make invisible quotation marks around the word ‘spell’. “Then he got a headache and fell asleep.”
“Okay.” Tom’s face looked tense and little creases showed at the corners of his eyes.
“If you don’t want to do it, it’s okay.” Angie leaned forward. “I understand.”
“I want to help.” Tom shifted around in his chair. “Just don’t ask me anything embarrassing.”
Angie picked up the knife next to the platter and sliced a piece of the blueberry cake. She placed it on a small white plate and slid it slowly towards Tom. Tom stared at the cake for a few moments, then picked up his fork and began to eat.
“It’s good.” When he finished the slice, he sipped his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “I feel fine.” Tom stretched and rubbed his shoulder muscles. “I don’t feel any different except for a minor tingling sensation in my arms and chest.”
“Okay, that’s good. Hopefully everyone I feed this to will react in the same way.” Angie made eye contact with Tom. “I’ll start the questions now. I’ll have to think up something that you might want to avoid answering so we can see if you feel compelled to tell the truth.”
“Okay. I guess.” Concern was etched over Tom’s face.
Angie asked lots of easy and non-stressful questions and Tom answered every one of them quickly. Then Angie moved to topics that might cause an emotional reaction. “Have you ever been rejected by someone?”
Tom took in a long breath. “Yes.”
Angie watched him closely. “Has someone ever broken your heart?”
Tom gave a nod. “Yes.”
“Is there anything about Jenna that annoys you or that you’d like to change?”
“Nothing.” Tom smiled. “She’s perfect.”
Angie grinned. “Good answer.” She thought about what to ask next. “Are there specific questions that I could ask that you wouldn’t want to answer?”
Tom straightened up. “Of course.”
Trying to knock him off guard, Angie said, “Tell me what those questions are.”
“Nope.” Tom crossed his arms over his chest. “You made a truth cake. You didn’t hypnotize me or anything. You can’t force me to answer stuff.”
“Well, if it’s a truth cake, don’t you have to tell me true answers?”
“If I answer, I have to tell you the truth, but I can choose not to answer.”
“Really? That’s how you feel?” Angie frowned. “You can make the choice not to reply?”
“Seems so. I only have to tell the truth if I actually answer.”
“Huh. This isn’t going to work then.” Angie stood up and started pacing around the room. “Anyone I speak with can choose to say nothing.” She groaned.
“I guess you’ll just have to trick them into answering.”
“How?” Angie turned and faced Tom. “How could I trick you?”
“I don’t know. I’m just the victim of your spell.” Tom chuckled. After a minute, he added, “I guess in order to figure out this case, you’re just going to have to rely on your intelligence … and … your intuition.”
Angie sank into the chair and held her head in her hands. She looked up at Tom and gave him a wicked grin. “Well, the truth spell should last a while longer. Maybe I’ll go get Jenna so she can ask you all sorts of personal things.”
Tom shrugged a shoulder. “I have nothing to hide from Jenna.”
Angie sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re too perfect. You don’t happen to have any brothers who might be interested in me, do you?”
Tom’s eyes widened. “You have Josh.”
Angie frowned. “I think he’s about to dump me.”
Shortly after the questioning session with Angie, Tom got a headache and they went to sit with the others in the family room. Ellie and Jack Ford had gone out for the evening so luckily there was no chance for Jack to ask Tom what he’d meant by not having special powers.
Tom settled in one of the comfy easy chairs and promptly fell asleep. Both of the cats took the opportunity to snuggle with Tom in the chair. Euclid lay across the big man’s lap and Circe rested on top of his chest where she rose and fell slightly with the in and out movement of his breathing.
Jenna smiled at the black cat. “I hope you don’t get motion sickness.”
Courtney pulled a throw blanket over her knees and scrunched down comfortably in the opposite chair. “While Tom was under the spell, Jenna should have taken the chance to ask him all kinds of things.”
Angie took a handful of buttered popcorn from one of the snack bowls. “I threatened to get Jenna so she could do just that, but Tom told me he had nothing to hide from her.”
Courtney groaned. “That is a man who is truly in love.”
Jenna reached for the popcorn. “Speaking of love, I’ve been thinking.”
All eyes, except for Tom’s, turned to her.
“Courtney always says that most of the trouble in the world is caused by love or money.”
Mr. Finch nodded. “That is what Miss Courtney and I have learned from crime shows. Those two things cause very strong emotional reactions that some people are unable to handle.
Hence, those things are the cause of many crimes.”
Courtney added, “Some other emotions can come into play, too, like jealousy or revenge, but those are often by-products of things like falling in love with someone the criminal can’t have or wanting what another person has, like money or cars or power or whatever.”
“So what are you thinking?” Angie looked at her twin sister.
“Suspicions have been running through my mind.” Jenna tucked her slippered-feet up under her blanket. “I keep coming back to Ryan hitting his head when the car went off the road and then wandering around disoriented until he fell into the icy river. But that can’t be because when Mr. Finch held the ring, he heard a fight and angry words between Ryan and another male. So I don’t believe it was just some innocent accident. Someone was there with him that night.”
“And,” Angie said, “Whatever happened between them contributed to Ryan’s death.”
Jenna nodded. “So I’ve been thinking everything over. Francine told us some things about Mr. Allen that are disturbing. She said the man was controlling and demanding … he sounds like a bully to me. He seems to have put demands on his son that were incompatible with what Ryan wanted. Ryan wanted to date Lottie, but Mr. Allen told him to drop her. Ryan enjoyed music and might have wanted to pursue it after high school graduation, but his father insisted he go to college and study engineering.”
“Yes,” Angie said. “And Mr. Allen admitted to becoming frustrated when he was trying to find Ryan that night. It could be that they had words with each other on the phone and that was the cause of the phone call disconnecting … Ryan might have hung up on his parents. Besides getting angry with one another, Ryan and his father might have had a physical fight.”
“Then we have Lottie and Darren.” Jenna sipped from her glass of ginger ale.
Courtney perked up. “Lottie and Darren. Are those two a couple? Did Lottie break off with Ryan because she fell in love with Darren?”
“Did Lottie and Darren have a fight with Ryan that night in the ditch?” Jenna’s forehead creased in concentration. “Did things go wrong? Did they hurt Ryan? Whatever happened might have been unintentional. Maybe things got out of hand, punches were thrown? Ryan was injured or killed?”
Mr. Finch folded his hands together and rested them in his lap. “That could explain why the ring was found beside the car. Miss Lottie may have handed the ring to Ryan and he tossed it down or she might have thrown it at him. Darren might be the male voice I heard when I held the ring at the police station and went into the trance.”
“Maybe there was jealousy on Ryan’s part that Darren was making money and having success with his music, and then to make things worse, Darren falls in love with the woman that Ryan loved.” Angie shook her head. “There’s enough motivation in this group for more than one death.”
“What a mess.” Courtney stood up, stretched, and walked to the side table to get a cookie from one of the platters. “I think I’m stress eating.”
“Would you bring me a cookie, Miss Courtney?” Finch asked. “I will join you in the stress eating.”
Tom stirred in his seat and the cats jumped onto the arm of the chair to avoid being squished. He pushed himself up, blinking and glancing around the room, dazed and disoriented for a moment. “Oh.”
Jenna went to him and gently touched his cheek. “How’s your headache?”
“A little worse.” Tom rubbed his temple.
Jenna brought him a glass of water and a painkiller and sat on the arm of the chair next to him. Tom rubbed some kinks from the back of his neck. “I had weird dreams.”
Jenna put some cookies on a plate and put it on her fiancé’s lap. “What did you dream?” Jenna kidded, “That Angie was trying to poison you?”
Tom smiled as he reached for one of the peanut butter cookies. “I dreamt that Jack Ford was everywhere I was. I’d turn around and there he’d be, standing there, staring at me. He asked me questions I couldn’t answer.” Tom shook himself and chewed a bite of cookie. “Weird. Jack’s my friend, but I felt in danger.”
Zips of electricity seemed to jump down Angie’s spine. Something about what Tom was saying was a clue, but she just couldn’t connect his words to what they knew.
Yet.
20
The morning bake shop rush was over and Angie and Louisa refilled the bakery cases and restocked the refrigerator. Louisa was loading the dishwasher while Angie wiped down some of the café tables. When the door opened, Angie looked up to see Chief Martin walk in, his face grave. He nodded at Angie and she gestured to the table near the corner windows that she had just wiped down.
Louisa brought the chief a black coffee and Angie slipped into the seat opposite the chief. “You don’t look like you have anything good to say.”
“I don’t.” Chief Martin shrugged out of his heavy winter coat and hung it over the back of his chair. After taking a long drink of his coffee, he set the mug down and gave Angie a serious look. “Preliminary results are in. I was hoping that Ryan was injured when the car went into the ditch and he wandered off confused and ended up in the river.”
“But when Mr. Finch held the ring, he heard two male voices arguing.”
“I know. I hoped he was mistaken.” The chief looked down at his mug.
Angie waited for him to go on.
“Ryan didn’t wander off and fall in the river.” The police chief raised his eyes. “It seems he was injured alright, but his injuries are consistent with being beaten. There was blunt force trauma to both the head and the chest. A heart injury most likely disrupted the heart’s normal beating rhythm. There was also a tear in the heart wall which caused internal bleeding.”
Angie bit her lower lip and swallowed hard. “Then what Mr. Finch heard was accurate. Two men arguing … and then a fight must have broken out.” Turning her face to the window, she asked, “How did Ryan end up in the river? Do you think his attacker took him there and dumped him in the water?”
“Probably. Cause of death wasn’t drowning so he was dead when he went into the river.”
“Who did this?” Angie held the chief’s eyes. “There could have been more people involved in this than just Ryan and the other man. Ryan could have been jumped by two people.”
“Possibly. I might be inclined to consider that some guys drove by, saw Ryan, and attacked him, but….”
“But what?”
“But the ring was there.” The chief picked up his mug. “So I’m assuming the attacker knew Ryan.”
“Yes.” Angie ran her hand over her head. “Why did this happen? Was it planned? Was it intentional? Or was the person with Ryan in the car and then one thing led to another and they had a terrible fight? It could have been a fight that got out of hand. The killer might never have intended to kill Ryan.”
“Nevertheless, the young man is dead.”
Angie and the chief discussed the case for a few more minutes until Chief Martin got a text and had to leave. As she was clearing the table, Francine stepped into the shop and smiled at Angie. “It’s freezing out.” Francine shivered. “I needed a break and decided to come down and have one of your delicious treats.” Walking to the bakery case, she leaned down to scan the items, chose a slice of fruit pie and ordered a cup of tea. Francine took a seat by the windows and she and Angie chatted while Louisa prepared the tea and put the pie on a small, pale blue plate.
“Is your niece still staying with you?” Angie asked.
“She is.” Francine gave a sad shake of her head. “Lottie is beside herself with grief. She’s at the house. She could barely drag herself out of bed. It’s horrible news, just horrible. Poor Ryan. I can’t believe it.”
“How long has Lottie been staying with you?”
“She came a few days before Ryan went missing.”
“Why did Lottie come for a visit?”
“She’s on winter break from her studies. She wanted to come up and see me and some of her friends who were home from school.”
Francine nodded. “She was out that night.”
Angie’s heart skipped a beat. She wondered where Lottie had gone that night and if she had met up with Ryan. Did Lottie have a hand in the death?
Francine placed her fork on the plate. “I don’t know what time she came home. I don’t even know what she did that night. We all got so focused on the news about Ryan that we never even talked about where she went that night or who she saw.”
“Do you think Lottie would talk to me about where she was that night?” Angie asked. “At the time, things may not have stood out, but if she thinks back on the night and who she saw or what she heard, something might seem important under the circumstances.”
“I’m sure she’d talk to you.” Francine gripped her mug with both of her hands. “I’m sure she’d want to help, if she could. I’ll give her a call later and ask her.”
Angie shook her head sadly. “What a mess. How could this have happened?” Making eye contact with Francine, Angie asked, “Who do you think did this?”
“Couldn’t he have just fallen into the river, maybe from injuries he got when the car went off the road? Maybe he hit his head and was confused and he wandered around unable to find his way.”
“Maybe.” Angie stifled a sad sigh. “But what if that wasn’t the case. I wonder who could have harmed Ryan. If you were a police officer, which way would your suspicions go?”
Francine crossed her arms and rested them on the tabletop. “I told you that I don’t trust Bob Allen. I might cast a glance his way if I was looking for someone who might have done wrong.”
“He’s certainly someone who deserves a look.” Angie gave a nod. “What about people from the past? Did you ever hear from your daughter that someone didn’t like Ryan? Maybe someone was jealous of Ryan’s popularity with other kids or his musical talent?”
