Buried in Beignets

by J. R. Ripley

  I turned and bit my lip. Rob wasn’t kidding. Two of Table Rock’s finest were heading right for me. They saw me looking at them and stopped in the middle of the street. Didn’t they know how dangerous that could be? One of them beckoned me with his finger. It didn’t look like they were on the prowl for a couple of cups of Karma Koffee. That was both good news and bad.

  I balled up the waxed paper and remnants of my muffin, squished it into my coffee cup and dropped the whole lot into the Karma Koffee-branded trash receptacle near the door. A feeling of dread shot from my toes to my eyes.

  Suddenly, Heaven’s Building Block wasn’t sitting so well in my stomach. What had I done? I felt a line of sweat gather above my lip. Not an easy thing to accomplish in this dry heat.

  ‘Have a nice day!’ Rob shouted as I pushed out the door. Rather derisively, too, I thought, given the circumstances. I mean, we were neighbors, after all.

  THIRTEEN

  ‘I hear you and Rick Wilbur had an argument a couple of days ago.’ Detective Highsmith had his butt parked on one of my tabletops. Did he have any idea what a health inspector would have to say about that?

  My eyes narrowed. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘That’s not important.’

  It was important to me. I asked again but he refused to answer. Probably refused to share his ball on the playground as a kid, too.

  My hands bunched up. It had to be that butinski next door, on the other side of my little café. The Hitching Post sat on one side of me and Salon de Belleza occupied the space on the other. I remembered now how the woman who ran the hair salon had slowed as she walked past my shop the other night when I’d been having words with Rick Wilbur. The whole episode had sort of slipped my mind, what with all the craziness going on. Who knows? Maybe I’d been trying to block the episode for this very reason – that it might make me look guilty in the eyes of the law.

  ‘All right,’ I said finally. ‘You might call it arguing,’ I conceded, ‘but we weren’t,’ I said with unbridled annoyance. ‘We were having a heated discussion about air conditioning. Get it?’ I said, wigging my eyebrow. ‘Heated?’

  Highsmith’s chiseled jaw worked side to side.

  We were alone in the café. The place looked a bit filthier than it had before this whole mess had started but nothing that a dozen hours of elbow grease couldn’t rectify. ‘Look,’ I said as I went to the sink and soaked a rag in water, ‘Mr Wilbur had told me that this store had air conditioning.’

  I began wiping down the steel prep tables. I scratched my neck with my free hand. ‘At least, I think he did. Anyway,’ I sprinkled some Bon Ami and went back to scrubbing, ‘when the heat shot up and I tried to get it running, pffft!’

  I waved the rag in the air. ‘Nothing. No air. No nothing.’ I was beginning to wonder if there wasn’t some truth to what Rob Gregory had said about Rick Wilbur’s character, modus operandi and the way he was letting his properties fall into disrepair.

  ‘So you demanded that Mr Wilbur show up and, when he did, you lured him into your storeroom—’

  ‘What? That’s absurd, I—’

  Highsmith zeroed in on me. ‘At some point, he turned his back and you clobbered him with your rolling pin.’

  I slitted my eyes at him. If he wasn’t an officer of the law, and twice as big as me, and carrying a weapon, I’d do some clobbering all right. I took a chi-centering breath before speaking. ‘I called him on his cell phone and explained the situation. He came by and we discussed it like rational adults.’

  Highsmith snorted and slid off the table.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  The detective shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

  I looked at him darkly.

  ‘So the two of you had words.’ He grabbed his jacket from the coat tree near the door and pulled that notebook of his from his coat pocket. ‘Then what?’

  ‘He promised me a fan.’

  Detective Highsmith was silent a minute. ‘When was the last time you saw Rick Wilbur?’

  ‘Come on,’ I said, throwing the towel over my shoulder and pressing my hands against the counter. ‘I’ve told you all this before.’

  He came toward me and it was all I could do to hold my ground, his pencil tapping against the notebook. ‘No. For instance, you never told me about your argument with him.’

  I took a step back. So much for self-control. ‘I-I forgot,’ I stammered. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind. Besides, I didn’t think it was important. I didn’t kill the man!’

  ‘So you say.’

  ‘Goodbye, Detective!’

  I turned and got busy emptying the French press. I had to do something with my hands to stop myself from running after the man and strangling him. I carefully poured the damp grounds into a plastic container and shut the lid. I’d promised Donna all my used coffee grounds. She said coffee grounds make great fertilizer. Maybe I should wrap a container of grounds up with some ribbon and a bow and present it to Mrs Wilbur as a small gesture of condolence. She’d probably love it. I hit the spigot and rinsed the glass in the sink.

  Suddenly Detective Highsmith was standing next to me. ‘Are you still here?’ I snapped. ‘I thought you told me I could have my store back?’ Dang, those M&M eyes of his were looking sweet. Too bad he was such a sour, obnoxious twit.

  He grinned at me. ‘Good luck with the grand opening tomorrow.’

  My mouth fell open. I’m pretty sure it was still open as I watched him exit.

  ‘If you keep your mouth open like that, you’ll attract flies.’

  ‘Huh?’ I spun around. ‘Laura!’

  ‘It’s something my mother used to say when I was little. “Laura, if you keep your slack jaw hanging open like that, you’re going to attract flies.”’

  I laughed. ‘I’ll try to remember that. Flies are definitely not on my diet. Where did you come from, anyway? Were you here this whole time?’ The whole time Table Rock’s lone detective was accusing me of murder.

  She shook her head. ‘No, I just got here. The backdoor was open. I came in that way.’

  I cocked my head in puzzlement. That explained how but not why.

  She pointed a thumb over her left shoulder. ‘Remember?’

  ‘Umm …’

  ‘Your bike?’

  Memories fluttered back. I might be dense but with a good machete the thicket wasn’t impassable. ‘Oh, right!’

  ‘I brought the Schwinn back. Flat’s all fixed. I brought it in through the rear. The door was unlocked.’

  ‘Thanks. Wait, the door was unlocked?’ I shook my head. ‘Darn those police. Don’t they know better than to leave an unlocked door like that? Anybody could get in.’ I held out my hands. ‘No offense.’

  Laura laughed. ‘None taken.’

  ‘Can I make you a cup of coffee? It’s on the house.’

  She shook her head. ‘Sorry, I’d love to but I can’t stay. I’ve left the store with only one new clerk on the floor. That’s a recipe for disaster. I’ve really got to get back.’

  ‘I understand.’ I grabbed my purse and pulled out my wallet, looking for a credit card with some room to spare. ‘How much do I owe you?’

  ‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘I’ll take it out in trade.’

  I laid my wallet atop my purse. ‘What did you have in mind?’

  She tapped the center of her lips with her index finger and said with a grin, ‘How about a cup of coffee and a plate of beignets after you open?’

  I grinned back. ‘How about a to-go box of coffee and a bag full of beignets?’

  Laura made a show of giving my counteroffer some consideration. ‘Sold!’ she said finally. ‘You drive a hard bargain, Maggie Miller.’ She held out her hand and we shook.

  ‘Nobody messes with Maggie Miller,’ I replied. Well, somebody was messing with me and messing with me good. But I’d catch up to them sooner or later.

  I walked Laura out and was about to lock the front door to keep out the strays and any potential lookie-loos who might want
to see where the dead body had been found when the strawberry blonde from across the way skipped across the street in my direction.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said quickly. ‘We’re not open yet. And there’s nothing here to see.’ I grabbed the bar that ran the length of the door and pulled it toward me.

  ‘I’m not here to buy anything.’

  ‘Come to gawk at the scene of the crime, then?’ Or had Rob and Trish sent her to spy on me? Maybe the girl was upset because I hadn’t left a tip in the Karma Koffee-branded tip jar. But the price of that whatchamacallit coffee and muffin had been outrageous. Who could afford a tip after that?

  She shook her body. ‘Ewww, no. Don’t remind me.’

  I stirred the air with my free hand, waiting to see what the girl was up to.

  ‘I wanted to ask you for a job.’ She looked at me with hopeful jade-green eyes. My own green eyes suddenly seemed so drab. I wish my eyes were that shade of green.

  ‘Wait,’ I said, still clutching the door handle. ‘You’re Aubrey from Karma Koffee, aren’t you?’ Was I delusional? Hallucinating? Was this Aubrey’s doppelgänger?

  She nodded sheepishly. ‘Aubrey Ingridson.’

  I squinted at her with not a little bit of suspicion. ‘And you want to work here?’ I really hadn’t given a whole lot of thought to hiring. Donna had mentioned that a couple of her part-timers might be willing to put some hours in if I needed.

  ‘Yes,’ she said shyly.

  ‘Why?’ I’d already thought of several reasons, none of them good, and all involving the Gregorys trying to sabotage my fledgling business. I angled my eyes across the street toward Karma Koffee. I couldn’t be sure because of the glare from the glass, but that might have been Trish staring at me from the window. ‘Come on in.’ I held the door open and locked it behind us.

  ‘So,’ I said, returning behind the counter so I could face out and keep an eye on the goings-on at Karma Koffee. If those two were trying to set me up, I wanted to see it coming.

  Aubrey faced me across the counter. She shrugged, shifted the strap of her brown leather purse from one shoulder to the other, then glanced back across the street toward Karma Koffee, too. ‘To be totally honest with you,’ she began in a conspiratorial tone that was totally uncalled for seeing as we were alone in the café, ‘I really don’t enjoy my position there. To be totally, totally honest …’ Bright red nails tapped the countertop. ‘Rob and Trish creep me out.’

  I couldn’t help smiling. ‘Do you know anything about beignets?’

  ‘Well …’ She moved her tongue around the inside of her cheek. ‘To be totally, totally honest again …’

  I tilted my head. So far, this young lady was making me totally, totally crazy. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I didn’t even know how to pronounce the word until you just said it.’ A red glow lit her cheeks and flared across her nose. ‘I’d only seen the sign on your window.’

  I beamed. I totally, totally liked this girl. ‘Don’t worry,’ I replied. ‘Lots of people have that trouble. It’s “ben-yeah” as in “yeah, we’re having beignets!”’ I waved both hands in the air and we both laughed.

  ‘Listen, don’t sweat it. I hadn’t been able to pronounce that weird coffee you sold me at Karma Koffee, ummy-gummy-yer-the-cheffy—’ My tongue and my brain twisted up in a knot.

  ‘Irgachefe?’ she said. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She must have left her Karma Koffee-branded visor back in the shop.

  ‘That’s it!’ I said, slapping my hands down on the countertop, rattling the cups and saucers I’d laid out there. I stuck out my hand. ‘You’re hired!’

  The truth was I really couldn’t afford to hire the girl. Heck, I couldn’t afford to hire anyone. I couldn’t even afford me. But I totally, totally couldn’t afford not to stick it to Rob and Trish.

  I welcomed Aubrey aboard with a hug. ‘When can you start?’

  ‘How about now?’

  ‘Don’t you need to give Rob and Trish notice?’ Not that I cared all that much. It would take the two of us working till midnight to get this place in shape for tomorrow’s opening.

  ‘I already did.’ She smiled and snatched the towel off my shoulder. ‘Where are the cleaning supplies?’

  ‘In the back.’ I hesitated before going into the storeroom. The police had removed Wilbur’s body, hadn’t they? Highsmith had told me they had. And any other ickiness, I hoped. My stomach churned. I took a tentative step in.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Aubrey said. She was so close behind me that I could feel her breath on the back of my neck.

  ‘Oh, yeah. Sure, everything’s fine.’ The overhead lights were on and the door leading to the alley was closed. I rushed over and locked it. I don’t know why, but I was suddenly feeling really creeped out.

  Turning back to Aubrey, I said, ‘I’ll tell you what. Instead of cleaning, how about unboxing the chairs and setting them out up front?’

  Aubrey smiled and shot me a quick salute. ‘Sure, boss.’ Her eyes danced around the back counter. She spotted the box cutter and went to work.

  I couldn’t help smiling. This might work out after all. The thought of opening up any more of those boxes of chairs totally, totally freaked me out. What if there was another body inside another box?

  I didn’t know what I’d do. But I was pretty sure where I’d end up. In the hospital, alongside Clive and Ed.

  I watched Aubrey work for a minute or two. Thankfully, all she removed from the first two boxes were chairs. She pulled each pair out and neatly stacked them near the doorway.

  ‘Sure you don’t mind working for a murderer?’ I said, half-joking.

  She looked up from her chore. ‘It beats working for Rob and Trish.’ She hesitated then added, ‘They’re so weird.’

  That I could believe. I pulled a ten-pound bag of flour from a pallet and headed toward the front.

  ‘Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Mr Gregory himself murdered Rick Wilbur.’

  I held the sack of flour against my chest. ‘Yeah, I got the impression they weren’t exactly besties.’

  ‘Definitely not,’ Aubrey said, ‘but it’s more than that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I hollered as I carried the flour to the workstation then returned for more.

  ‘The Gregorys were always arguing with the landlord. I saw Rob arguing with Mr Wilbur just the other day.’ Aubrey started breaking down the first two boxes with the razor blade.

  ‘You did?’ My jaw fell open, then I remembered what Laura had said about flies and quickly closed it again. I laid a hand on her arm to stop her. ‘Where? When exactly?’

  ‘Right here.’ She folded the box up and set it near the door. ‘I could see them from behind the counter at Karma Koffee. I was working the late afternoon-evening shift.’

  I nodded. I’d been out doing some last-minute shopping for supplies at that time.

  ‘Are you sure it was them?’

  Aubrey nodded. ‘The lights were on and everything. I could see them as clear as day.’

  A frisson of excitement sent goosebumps up my arms. I held onto her. This could be my salvation. Put Rob Gregory away for murder, clear my good name and, if I was lucky, put Karma Koffee out of business all in one fell swoop!

  ‘But why here? Why not at Karma Koffee?’

  Aubrey shrugged. ‘I don’t know. All I know is that Mr Gregory saw Mr Wilbur over here at your place, cursed, threw down his apron and marched over.’

  So, Rob Gregory just might have been the last person to see Rick Wilbur alive … Because after that he’d killed him! ‘What happened after that?’

  Aubrey shrugged once more. Sheesh, this girl was exasperating. ‘I don’t know. Things got busy. I had customers. A little while later, Mr Gregory returned.’

  ‘Was he behaving normally?’

  Aubrey chuckled. ‘Describe normal.’

  I nodded. She had a point. Nothing about Rob Gregory spelled n-o-r-m-a-l.

  ‘He was quiet for a while and I could stil
l see he was totally, totally upset. Trish came and they went upstairs.’

  ‘Think,’ I said, grabbing Aubrey’s arms above the wrists. ‘This is important now.’ I locked her eyes with my own. ‘Did you see Rick Wilbur after that?’

  Aubrey bit her lower lip and closed her eyes a moment. ‘No, no, I don’t think I did.’ She shook her head. ‘But I really wasn’t looking, you know?’

  I knew. It really didn’t mean anything. It certainly wasn’t proof that Rob Gregory had bashed Rick across the back of his skull and stuffed him in a box.

  But it was a start.

  ‘Did you tell this to the police?’ My voice quivered.

  She twisted her lips. ‘Should I?’

  ‘Yes!’ I said quickly. I grabbed her shoulders. ‘The sooner the better.’ I snatched the box cutter from the girl’s hand. ‘In fact, you should go right now.’ I gave her a push. ‘Do you have a car?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Great. Go down to the police station. Ask for Detective Highsmith.’ Suck on this, Detective Highsmith.

  She scanned the storeroom. ‘There’s still so much to do, though. I have all these chairs left to unbox.’

  ‘The chairs can wait,’ I said. ‘This is much more important.’

  ‘Well, if you really think so?’

  ‘I do. Trust me. Look,’ I said, ‘you go, take care of making your statement to the police now and come back to work tomorrow morning. Would six a.m. be too early for you? There’s a lot to do.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I’ll be here. And thanks.’

  ‘Thank you!’ I gushed. As Aubrey headed for the door, I yelled out, ‘And please wear some other shirt instead of that Karma Koffee polo tomorrow!’

  She tugged at the logo on her shirt and chuckled. ‘Don’t worry,’ she replied, waving, ‘I will.’ She stopped in the doorway. ‘Hey, we should totally get us some uniforms.’

  ‘Not a bad idea,’ I replied. ‘See you tomorrow.’ Speaking of uniforms, I wondered how Rob Gregory would look in a bright orange prison jumpsuit. I’d even heard of a sheriff down in Maricopa County who forced the prisoners there to wear pink jumpsuits.

  I smiled as I carried a couple of chairs out to the front and placed them around one of the tables. Rob Gregory was not going to look good in pink. He had the wrong skin tone for that.