Secrets for Sale

by Jerri Kay Lincoln

  Why not, I thought. As long as she was asking—and hopefully willing—I may as well take advantage of the situation. “No, not all of them. Just a few.” Before she could complain, I spilled the rest out. “Paul Gallagher, Russ Tabor, and Douglas Gates. And I wouldn’t mind knowing if you ever see Fenton’s son, Todd.”

  She put her hands on her hips, narrowed her eyes, and glared at me. Then she erupted. “Believe me, Lorry, if I had seen that little twerp Todd Fenton, I would sic you right on him. If the sale goes through, I most certainly will lose my job! And I need this job! John and I are talking about having another child.”

  That surprised me. I knew John wanted one, but I thought maybe he’d changed his mind after what had, um, happened between them. Nodding, I took a sip of my coffee and a bite of the croissant. “Okay,” is all I could think of to say. I’m not always witty and articulate.

  “Paul Gallagher usually stops by first thing in the morning before he heads to the high school. Tabor is a reclusive. Nobody ever sees him anywhere but at the town office. And Douglas Gates doesn’t drink coffee. He prefers the hard stuff.”

  At that moment, several people walked into the Kafe, and Kasey put a smile on her face—that looked genuine—and walked around the counter to seat them and give them menus. It took a minute to absorb that until I realized Kasey must really like her job. That had never occurred to me before. Another assumption on my part. It wasn’t a job I would like, so I had assumed Kasey didn’t like it, either. As I gathered up my coffee and croissant, I turned around to look at the family who had come in. There was a father, a mother, a little girl of seven, and a nine-year-old boy who looked like he was on speed.

  So many kids do these days. Between electronic devices and too much sugar, most of them look like they’re hopped up on something. This kid was sitting down, standing up, sitting down, standing on the chair, sitting on the chair, ad infinitum. Or ad nauseam. One of the two. Probably both. I left money on the counter, waved to Kasey, and walked out the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  WHEN I WALKED into the historical society, Bingo greeted me at the door. After placing the coffee and the croissant on my desk, I knelt down to pet him. What a good boy! Bingo was the love of my life until Aiden and Billy had come into it. But Bingo still stayed high up there.

  I stood up from petting Bingo and sat down at my desk. Looking at the croissant, which I didn’t really want, I stood back up. Stand up, sit down, stand up—I was as bad as the kid next door. Walking into Petra’s office, I started to ask if she wanted the croissant—“Petra”—but I didn’t get to finish because she had her face in her hands, crying. “Petra, what’s wrong? Are you all right?” I set the croissant on her desk and put my hand on her shoulder. Don’t worry. The croissant was in a napkin and my hands were clean, so I didn’t soil her bright-colored blouse.

  She waved me away with one hand while keeping her face covered with the other. “It’s that family who just left here. You could tell the father and daughter had a good relationship—you know—that he was a good dad.”

  I nodded and patted her on the shoulder again to show my understanding. Since she was born, Petra’s father had been an alcoholic and had never been a good dad. He had even beaten up on her mother for a while. I thought that had stopped, though. “Want to talk about it?” I offered, knowing she would never accept. Petra normally kept family stuff to herself. Whether she felt embarrassed or thought it was an inappropriate subject, I didn’t know. There was no way to know since Petra wouldn’t talk about it.

  Petra waved me away again, sniffled, and turned back to her computer. But when Bingo jumped up on the side of her chair, she turned and let him nuzzle her. Bingo could comfort anyone. It was one of his awesome qualities.

  Returning to my desk, I checked my email, drank the last of the coffee, and trudged down the hallway toward the stairs. Sneaking a quick glance at Petra, she faced her computer and typed madly away, but her shoulders shook as if she was controlling sobs. If she wouldn’t let me in, then I couldn’t help her. I tried to nudge Bingo to go to her again, but he wanted to follow me upstairs. Poor Petra. Probably her breakup with Mason had caused her to be more sensitive to other issues. In retrospect, I had that half right.

  Sitting at my upstairs computer, I mindlessly scanned documents so we could—at some time in the future—put all the files online. If the historical society had any future, that is. Not knowing if that would ever happen because of the way things now stood, my heart wasn’t in it. Time buzzed by, and I scanned and scanned. It wasn’t long before I heard Aiden coming up the stairs, and Bingo raced from my side to meet him on the stairs.

  A minute later, Aiden sat on my lap, with Bingo at my feet, and Rocky rubbing up next to Bingo and purring so loudly that Aiden and I had to raise our voices. It was okay, though, we all loved Rocky and put up with his cattiness.

  Aiden told me about his day at school, and it was a welcome respite from the rest of my day talking to Brent Lindsay and Kasey. After a while, though, when he finished his stories and comments of his time at school, he climbed off my lap and onto the floor. There, with both Bingo and Rocky somehow squeezing onto his lap, he began to read. Sometimes he sat in Petra’s office, but I was glad he didn’t today. I didn’t want him to bother her. Grieving over a lost relationship was always a difficult thing to do, and even more so if you were only sixteen years old.

  When five o’clock came, Aiden and I packed up our belongings, and shuffled down the stairs. I said, “Bye, Petra!” and Aiden called out, “Bye, Petra! I love you!” I thought I heard her draw in her breath, but I probably imagined that. She never responded to our comments. Maybe she was on the phone.

  I hadn’t spoken to Billy all afternoon, so it surprised me when he was already home when we got there. Walking into the house, we found him in the kitchen with his Kiss the Chef apron on, and dinner on the table.

  Doing as I was told (from the apron), I kissed him on the lips and told him I’d be right back. Color me hungry. Then I changed my clothes as fast as I could, washed my hands, and hurried back into the kitchen. Dinner smelled wonderful! Aiden was already sitting at the table. I wrapped my arms around Billy. “Have I told you lately what a great husband you are?”

  Billy grinned. “Not enough!” He served the meat loaf and broccoli and sat down to join us.

  The delicious meat loaf had parsley, red peppers, and spices in it. The three of us scarfed it down without much talking. We were all hungry! Although I told him Martha’s concerns about the danger to the bed and breakfast, Billy assured me everyone on the council , the audience, and Todd Fenton knew she was out of town.

  When we finished cleaning up, Billy said, “Okay, gang. Let’s go!”

  “Where are we going, Daddy?” asked Aiden.

  “Packing! We are packing to get ready to move into our new home!”

  “Yay!” said Aiden, jumping up and down and clapping.

  “What about Martha?” I asked.

  “She’ll move back home as soon as I solve the murder.”

  My eyes sparkled. “Do you have any leads?” I tried to suppress the enthusiasm in my voice.

  Billy shrugged. “Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll come up with something as the investigation proceeds.” He turned and began walking down the hallway. “Come on. The boxes are already in place, and we can begin.”

  I had noticed Billy had put boxes in our bedroom, but I was in too much of a hurry to eat dinner to pay much attention. Aiden walked into his bedroom, and I followed Billy into ours.

  At first, I tried to get Billy to talk about the suspects, but he wouldn’t say a word. So as he whistled as he worked, I went over everything in my mind. The trouble was almost everyone was still at the top of my list. They can’t all be the murderer. Wait a minute. Maybe all of them had business interests in the Fenton company.

  The three of us finished the last of the boxes Billy had brought home, and we all went to bed. As I lay there unable to sleep, I realized I
had to consider the possibility that the whole council participated in the murder. What was that book of Agatha Christie’s that I read? I’ll think of it in the morning. The end turned out to be they all did it. If everyone is still at the top of my list, maybe there’s a reason for it. With that thought in mind, I fell asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  A BLANKET OF snow covered the ground when I let Bingo out in the morning, and the white stuff was still falling down, softly but steadily. Bingo ran around outside like a mad dog, snapping at the falling white flakes and kicking up his heels. Billy beckoned me back to bed for a quick cuddle. And I do mean quick, because he always left the house before me and Aiden.

  Five minutes later, Bingo scratched at the door to come in. Snow covered his back and face, so Billy jumped up to retrieve a towel from the bathroom. After I dried Bingo off, I got dressed, woke Aiden, and began preparing breakfast, just as Billy filled his thermos with hot coffee and ran out the door.

  Aiden ate his usual cereal and juice with pulp. I had offered him eggs or oatmeal dozens of times, and he always refused. Although I wouldn’t let him eat the sugary cereals, he seemed to gravitate toward the more healthy ones, anyway. The only different breakfast he had was on Sundays when we all ate pancakes. Today I had oatmeal. I usually switched off between oatmeal and eggs, though once in a while I would have cereal along with Aiden.

  We got dressed, got ready to leave, packed everything up, and ran to the car. Snow was still falling down, though lighter than before. Without even asking Aiden if he wanted me to drive him to school, I parked in the back of the historical society, and Aiden and I got out of the car. Bingo would stay inside until I returned.

  Knowing Aiden always wanted to walk to school in the snow, I had worn my snow boots and somehow forgotten my heels at home. They were important to me, but right then, I thought about the trek to school in the wet snow. It didn’t snow often in the mountains of Arizona, but when it did, we always walked. Aiden loved it so much that I started enjoying the walk, too, so it was no hardship for me.

  When we arrived at school, I kissed him goodbye, waved to Pamela the principal, who stood outside snow or shine greeting the kids and their parents, and I walked as fast as my fat little legs could carry me back to my car. I let Bingo out, hurried into the historical society, brushed the snow off my coat, and stamped my feet to get the snow off my boots. Maybe later I would return home to get my heels. Right now, though, the snow boots were perfect.

  Petra was already sitting at her desk, studying. That wasn’t unusual, but I took a double take. She wore the same clothes as yesterday. “Hi, Petra,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. Petra dressed weird, but she had never done that before.

  “Don’t even say it, Lorry. I worked late, fell asleep at my desk, end of story.” All that without even turning toward me. Then she added, “End. From the old English, finish, destroy, die. So let it die and leave me alone.”

  When she stole a glance at me, I noticed her cheeks were still tear-stained. The tracks looked fresh. I walked to my office thinking there was more going on than her sleeping at her desk. Why would she not sleep at home if all that happened was that she broke up with Mason? Well, I don’t mean all in the sense that it’s minor. She is a teenager, and breakups happen. A tragedy, but not catastrophic. At least it shouldn’t be. Though living it would be difficult. Feeling more compassion after I thought about it, I turned around to comfort her.

  “No, Lorry, I don’t need anything from you right now. Just go back to work and leave me alone.”

  Sometimes Petra scared me. Right now, I felt really bad for her. Poor Petra. Her father was a useless drunk, and from the little I knew of her mother, she wasn’t the touchy-feely type. Petra had no one. Wait, Zack came in yesterday to hug her. At least she had him. And Zack was a good guy. I should call him to come see her again. That would be a kind thing to do, and Petra needed kind right now. But I checked my email, got caught up in some cute animal forwards, and forgot what I had planned to do.

  When I finished going through my email, I looked out the window and the snow had stopped, leaving behind a bright blue and white day. It was beautiful, although it would have been more beautiful out at the ranch and out of town. That thought made me smile. It was the first time I had thought about the ranch in a homey kind of way. Fondly. It made me realize how much I loved the place already. The wide spacious surroundings, the beautiful house and furniture, and especially the horses. It was perfect for us! I knew it!

  The only bad feeling I had about it was Charlie. So-called Uncle Charlie who probably wasn’t anybody’s uncle. Why would Billy want him around, anyway? Just because he came with the house, didn’t mean we had to keep him, did it? My new personal project was to think of a way to get rid of him—I don’t mean kill him—but there were other ways.

  I forced myself to think happier thoughts about the house. After Martha moved out and we moved in, we would have to have a house warming party! It would be wonderful. And my birthday was coming up, so we could do both at once. No gifts, of course.

  I was used to that, though. When I was a little girl and had birthday parties for all my little friends, my mother always wrote on the invitation “No gifts please.” She always said it was because we were rich and needed nothing, which made a certain amount of sense. What made me feel bad, though, is the other little rich kids in town had birthday parties, and their mothers never wrote anything like that. It was like I wasn’t good enough or something. Bad memory. Get yourself back to happy thoughts of the house. I’d try.

  Then I looked at my watch and came to my senses. It was getting later every minute. If I hurried next door, maybe I could catch Paul Gallagher. Kasey said he sometimes came in the mornings before school. Jumping up and grabbing my purse, I told Bingo to stay and then slid outside and sloshed through the snowy sidewalk to the Kafe.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  AS I OPENED the door to the Kafe, I realized I hadn’t told Petra I was leaving. She probably didn’t want to know, anyway, and nobody would come to the historical society to visit in this weather.

  When I walked in, Kasey was behind the counter and raised her head up to get my attention. She shifted her eyes to the left side, and I saw Paul Gallagher sitting there waiting for his order. Kasey winked at me without smiling, and I took it to mean she would try to delay him so I could ask him some questions.

  I sidled up to him trying to look nonchalant and then plunked my fat butt into the chair next to his. “Hello, Paul.” My mouth was open to introduce myself, when he looked at me.

  “Hello, Lorry.”

  “Oh! Hi!”

  “We met at one of Kasey and John’s parties. You know, besides the other night.”

  The other night was the council meeting. And since Paul and Kasey’s husband John worked together, that would make sense. Nodding my head, I said, “Yes, I remember,” though I really didn’t.

  He tapped some coins on the table trying to get Kasey’s attention, but she ignored him, bless her. “So who do you think did it, Paul? You know, the murder.”

  Paul looked at me in a serious way. “I don’t know. But I definitely don’t think Martha did it. That whole idea is ridiculous.” He tapped the coins on the counter again and looked in Kasey’s direction.

  “Um, where were you when it happened?”

  He smiled as if he caught me at something. “I was at the front looking at the bulletin board.”

  Someone else had said that, so there was only one other thing to ask. “Was anyone else there with you?”

  Paul nodded. “Yes, there was. Elizabeth Conroy. I guess that means I have an alibi,” he said without any sign of guile.

  “Either that or you two were in on it together.”

  After pounding on the counter with the coins, he looked over at Kasey and said, “Hey, Kasey. What’s the holdup today?” Pointing to his watch, he said, “Come on! I’ll be even later than I already am.”

  “It’s your meeting da
y today, Paul, and I know how much you hate that. So I’m doing you a favor!” She smiled at him and sashayed away.

  Paul turned toward me. “Look, Elizabeth is the one who talked me into trying out for the council. And I hate it! I can’t wait to get off, and as soon as they settle this thing, I plan to quit.”

  “Why not quit now?” I asked.

  “Now that would make me look guilty! It’s perfectly logical. The one who gets out the earliest is the one who did it,” he said, as Kasey brought him his coffee. Picking it up, he waved as he walked past and out the door.

  “Thanks, Kasey,” I said.

  “Don’t you even want a coffee?” she asked.

  “Sure. And a croissant.” Might as well go for it.

  I paid her, gave her a big tip worth more than the coffee and croissant, and returned to the historical society.

  I walked in to Bingo wagging his tail madly like I had disappeared for hours. Dogs are like that. They make you feel appreciated. Petra, meanwhile, talked excitedly on the phone. It felt good to hear her animated again. Her melancholy attitude of the last couple of days had worried me. After putting the coffee and croissant on my desk, I popped my head back to her office to wave to her and let her know I was back.

  What I saw shocked me and scared me even more. While Petra still talked in an excited manner, tears ran down her face. And they didn’t look like happy tears. Pretending I didn’t notice, I returned to my office and sipped my coffee wondering what was going on.

  I didn’t have to wonder long. When she got off the phone, she came to the place between our offices and stood there. “Guess what?” she said. “My aunt in Denver sent my mom a bus ticket to visit her. Mom is thrilled, but worried Dad will be mad. She has to leave today, and he’s passed out, so she can’t even tell him, and she knows better than to wake him up. I told her to leave him a note.”