For Whom the Bread Rolls

by Sarah Fox

  “Oh, that.” Sheryl smoothed out imaginary creases in her shorts. She cleared her throat. “That was nothing, really.”

  I highly doubted that, but the rumble of an approaching vehicle caught my attention. The engine cut off and a car door slammed shut. Seconds later, the tall gate leading to the back alleyway opened with a groan and Deputy Kyle Rutowski stepped into the yard.

  I stood up and descended the first two steps as he crossed the grass.

  “Marley, I understand you reported a death.”

  “Ida Winkler,” I confirmed. I pointed at the shed. “She’s in there.”

  Sheryl stood up behind me, but Rutowski held up a hand to halt any further movement. “Stay put for the moment, please.”

  As he headed for the shed, I turned back to retake my seat. Dried leaves had collected in the corners of the porch and a flash of white among the brown caught my eye. I leaned over for a closer look, reaching out to pick up what I now realized was a scrap of torn paper, but I stopped myself from touching it when I read the partial sentences written on the paper.

  Kirk, I know all about what you’re…don’t want the police to know, put $200 in cash…the drinking fountain in Wildwood Park before…

  With a sense of unease, I glanced over my shoulder, but Rutowski was still in the garden shed. Sheryl was staring in that direction, her hands clasped in her lap, and hadn’t noticed that something had caught my attention. Leaving the scrap of paper where it was, I sat down again, deciding not to draw the woman’s attention to what I’d found.

  I had no idea if it was related in any way to Ida’s death, but even if it wasn’t, I didn’t want to be responsible for starting any wild rumors. And I figured the note—or what remained of it—was most definitely fodder for rumors. I didn’t know anyone named Kirk in town, but whoever he was, it seemed as though someone had tried to threaten him. Ida, perhaps?

  I wouldn’t have put it past her to be involved in blackmailing someone. But if she’d written a threatening note in an attempt to extort money out of someone, why would a piece of it be on her own property? A change of heart before she delivered the note?

  Deputy Rutowski stepped out of the garden shed and I brought my thoughts to a halt.

  “Do you think she had a heart attack?” Sheryl asked quietly as Rutowski paused outside the shed and spoke into his radio.

  I hesitated, not wanting to voice my strong suspicions to her. “I’m not sure.”

  Footsteps sounded nearby, and a second later the back gate opened and Sheriff Ray Georgeson entered the yard. He nodded in my direction when he spotted me with Sheryl, but he continued on across the yard to speak with his deputy. I’d met the sheriff and a couple of his deputies back in March after Cousin Jimmy was killed. Even if I hadn’t met him in his official capacity, I would have crossed paths with him anyway since he was Brett’s uncle.

  After exchanging a few words with Rutowski, Ray put covers over his shoes and disappeared into the shed. The deputy also had covers over his shoes now, and he seemed to be giving the area around the shed a quick examination.

  Deputy Devereaux arrived next. When Ray emerged from the shed a minute or so later, he conferred with both his deputies, casting a glance toward the porch. Devereaux nodded at something Ray said and broke away from the group.

  “Ma’am, you are?” the deputy asked of Sheryl as he came our way.

  “Mrs. Sheryl Haynes. I live next door.”

  “Would you come with me, please? I’d like to take your statement.”

  Sheryl pressed a hand to the base of her throat, but then stood and smoothed out her blouse. “Of course.”

  She descended the rickety steps and followed Devereaux toward the back gate.

  “How well did you know Ms. Winkler?” I heard the deputy ask as they disappeared into the alley.

  As Rutowski went back to his examination of the area around the shed, Ray came my way, stopping at the base of the steps.

  “I’ll take your statement, Marley, if you’ll follow me.”

  “There’s something on the porch I think you should see,” I said as I made my way carefully down the steps. “I don’t know if it’s important or not, but it’s a scrap of paper with some writing on it.”

  I pointed out the torn note once Ray had climbed the steps, and he crouched down next to it. He studied it for several seconds without touching it and then rejoined me at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Thanks for bringing that to my attention.”

  He didn’t go on to say whether he thought it was important or not, but I didn’t expect him to.

  “We’ll go out to my car.” He was about to guide me toward the back gate when Rutowski called for his attention.

  “Sheriff, I’ve got something here.”

  “Just wait here a moment, please,” Ray said to me.

  I stayed put as he joined his deputy by the open door to the shed, only a few feet away from where I stood waiting. Rutowski pointed to something on the outer wall, next to the doorframe. It looked like a scrap of red fabric had caught on a protruding nail. Ray said something to his deputy in a low voice and pointed toward the back porch. Then he stepped away from the shed, gesturing for me to follow him. He held the back gate open for me and I preceded him into the unpaved alley, where two sheriff’s department cruisers were parked. Ray opened the front passenger door of one of the vehicles and asked me to take a seat. After circling around the vehicle, he joined me in the cruiser, settling into the driver’s seat.

  “I understand you were the one to discover the body,” Ray said as he removed his hat and set it on the dashboard.

  “Yes.” I swallowed, wishing I could forget the sight of Ida lying dead, her frizzy hair darkened with blood.

  “Did you enter the garden shed at all?”

  I nodded. “I went in far enough to check for a pulse at her throat.”

  “Did you touch anything else?”

  “No.” I shifted in my seat. “She was murdered, wasn’t she?”

  Ray hesitated briefly before answering the question. “At this point, her death does seem suspicious.”

  “The lamp base…the one on the floor of the shed with the blood on it.” I paused to draw in a steadying breath. “It was mine. She stole it from me yesterday.”

  His forehead creased. “Did you report the theft?”

  “Yes. Rutowski came by my place.”

  Ray opened his notebook and wrote something down. “What brought you to Ms. Winkler’s house this morning?”

  “She’d been making prank calls to the pancake house, yesterday and today, and then she stole the lamp base from my porch. It was getting ridiculous. I was hoping to talk some sense into her, to get her to stop the phone calls and vandalism. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try something.”

  “You approached the house from the back?”

  “No, I knocked on the front door first, but there was no answer. One of her neighbors came by and suggested I try around back. When I got into the yard I saw the shed door open, so I went to take a look and…that’s when I found Ida.”

  “Was this neighbor the same one who was on the porch with you?”

  “No, she lives on the other side of Ida’s house. Juliette Tran.”

  Ray made another note in his book.

  “Oh, Juliette mentioned something else.” I told him what the woman had said about Sheryl Haynes’s daughter pounding on Ida’s front door before I arrived. “Apparently she didn’t get an answer either.”

  So perhaps Ida was already dead.

  I didn’t have a chance to consider that possibility any further. Ray asked me some more questions and then requested that I provide a written statement. I completed the statement there in his cruiser, signing it once I was finished.

  “I know it must have been a shock to find the body,” Ray said once I’d handed him my statement. “How are you doing?”

  “It definitely wasn’t pleasant, but I’m all right. I’d like to get back to The Flip Side t
hough, if that’s okay.”

  “It is.”

  We both climbed out of the vehicle. I almost asked him if I’d get my lamp base back eventually, but I stopped myself. It seemed like an insensitive question, and I realized that I didn’t want it back anyway. Now that I knew it had likely been used to kill someone, I never wanted to lay eyes on it again.

  I exchanged some parting words with Ray and set off along the alley on foot. I walked briskly, anxious to get back to the comforting, familiar atmosphere of the pancake house and to leave the scene of Ida’s death well behind me.

  Chapter 5

  I returned to the pancake house thoroughly unsettled. It was bad enough that I’d stumbled upon Ida’s body, but the fact that foul play had likely led to her demise shook me even more. Ida had been far from my favorite person and I’d wanted her out of my life, but I never would have wished for her to meet such a terrible end.

  Some of my emotion must have shown on my face because as soon as I entered The Flip Side’s dining area, Leigh put a hand on my arm and drew me over to a quiet corner.

  “Is everything all right, Marley?”

  I scanned the room. Only half of the tables were currently occupied, and no one was close enough to hear us if we kept our voices low.

  “I went by Ida’s place, hoping I could talk some sense into her.”

  Leigh cringed. “Oh no. I’m guessing that didn’t go well.”

  “What didn’t go well?” Sienna asked as she stopped on her way by.

  “Marley had a chat with Ida.”

  “Uh-oh,” Sienna said.

  “I planned to have a chat with her,” I corrected, “but I didn’t end up speaking with her.” I lowered my voice further. “I couldn’t, because she was dead.”

  “What?” Leigh said, shocked.

  Sienna’s eyes went wide. “For real?”

  “Yes.” I tried not to remember the scene too vividly. “I found her on the floor of her garden shed.”

  “Oh, Marley, that’s terrible.” Leigh put a hand on my arm again. “Are you all right? Sienna and I can look after things out here if you want to stay in the office or head home.”

  “Thanks, but I’m okay. A little shaken up, but I’d like to keep working.”

  Sienna slipped away from us to check on some diners who had just finished up their meals.

  “Do you know what happened to her?” Leigh asked as we headed for the pass-through window, where she fetched two plates of freshly made crêpes.

  “Not exactly,” I said, not sure if I should mention that Ida had likely been murdered until the sheriff’s department decided that for certain.

  Several new patrons arrived at that moment, marking the beginning of the lunch rush, and we didn’t have any more time to chat for the next couple of hours. It was a few minutes before closing time when we were all able to gather near the cash counter again.

  “I wonder if there’s anyone to make arrangements for Ida now that her nephew is in jail,” Leigh said as she returned the coffeepot to the machine on a nearby shelf.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m guessing she probably didn’t have many friends.”

  Sienna frowned. “That’s sad.”

  It was sad, but Ida hadn’t exactly made an effort to endear herself to anyone, as far as I knew. She seemed to rub people the wrong way on a regular basis. Had she irritated someone to the point of violence?

  I remembered the torn note I’d found on Ida’s back porch.

  “Do either of you know anyone named Kirk in town?”

  Leigh thought for a second. “There’s a Kirk Jarvis who owns a junk shop.”

  “The one next to the bakery?” Sienna asked. When Leigh confirmed that, she added, “My mom got a neat cabinet there last week. It needs refinishing, but it’s pretty cool.”

  I could picture the small shop next to the bakery on Pacific Street, near the center of town, but I’d never been inside.

  “How about Sheryl Haynes?” I asked. “Do either of you know her?”

  Leigh shook her head. “The name doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “I don’t know her,” Sienna said, “but I think maybe my mom does. I’ve definitely heard her name before, anyway.”

  “Why?” Leigh asked. “Does she have something to do with Ida’s death?”

  “Sheryl lives next door to Ida’s house. I talked to her this morning.”

  I didn’t have a chance to explain further because an elderly couple had arrived at the counter to pay for their meals. While Sienna counted out their change, I gathered up the dirty dishes from their table and Leigh checked on the remaining diners. Ten minutes later, as the last customers of the day made their way out into the sunny afternoon, Deputy Kyle Rutowski entered The Flip Side.

  “Deputy,” I greeted as I untied my apron and draped it over the back of a chair. “What can I do for you?”

  Rutowski removed his hat and ran a hand over his short, dark hair. “I was hoping to speak with your employees before they leave for the day.”

  I hesitated for a second, surprised by the request, but then I quickly gathered my wits about me. “Of course. Everyone’s still here.”

  Sienna was in the kitchen, but Leigh was across the room, stacking up the last of the dirty plates.

  “Leigh?” I called to her. “Deputy Rutowski would like to have a word with you.”

  Leigh looked puzzled, but I had no explanation to give her. I got the sense that Rutowski wanted to speak with her alone, so I took a step back.

  “I’ll be in the office. Everyone else is in the kitchen.”

  “Thank you, Marley.”

  I exchanged a glance with Leigh and then retreated to the office, shutting the door all but a crack behind me. Sinking down into the desk chair, I stared at the door, a renewed sense of unease creeping through my body, tensing my muscles. I didn’t know why Rutowski wanted to speak with my employees, but I could guess, and I didn’t like the reason I came up with.

  Leigh’s voice floated down the hall toward me, rising in volume before falling again. I couldn’t make out any of her words, but she sounded indignant. My stomach tightened and a headache threatened to take hold above my right eye. Trying to distract myself, I checked my email, but I couldn’t focus on any of the messages in my in-box. The minutes ticked by slowly, but eventually I heard footsteps out in the hall and seconds later Leigh pushed the door open.

  “I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed as she burst into the room.

  Sienna and Tommy followed her into the office, and Ivan appeared as well, but he remained looming in the doorway.

  Leigh gestured over her shoulder with her thumb. “That man actually thinks you’re a suspect.”

  My stomach clenched, her words confirming my fears. “It can’t just be Deputy Rutowski. The sheriff must think so too.”

  That knowledge brought me a pang of hurt and disappointment. I liked Ray Georgeson, and I wanted to think he’d know I wasn’t capable of murder.

  “Maybe it’s not so bad,” Tommy said, though I could see uncertainty in his eyes. “Maybe those were just routine questions.”

  I swallowed, my mouth dry. “What questions did he ask?”

  Sienna spoke up. “He wanted to know what time you left the pancake house this morning.” She had her arms tucked around herself, her expression showing the same uncertainty as Tommy’s.

  “I found the body,” I said. “That’s probably what put me on the suspect list.” I looked at them each in turn. “But I promise you guys, I had nothing to do with Ida’s death.”

  “Of course you didn’t!” Ivan grumbled from the doorway.

  “We know you didn’t,” Tommy added, Leigh and Sienna nodding in agreement. “But we’re worried about you.”

  I tried my best to smile. “I’m sure there’s no need to worry. Like you said, they were routine questions. That’s probably all there was to it.”

  “It had better be,” Leigh said with a frown. “I don’t want you going through what
I went through back in March.”

  My forced smile faded as I remembered what the waitress had faced after Cousin Jimmy’s murder. When the sheriff treated her as a suspect, rumors to that effect had spread quickly, and some of the townsfolk had treated Leigh like she had the plague. If the same thing happened to me, would The Flip Side suffer?

  I couldn’t let myself think about that. Instead I got to my feet and put one arm around Sienna and the other around Leigh.

  “Everything will be fine.” I walked with them out of the office, Ivan and Tommy ahead of us. “They’ve asked their questions and that will probably be the end of it.”

  Nobody looked entirely convinced, but I didn’t want to let on that I wasn’t as certain as I’d tried to sound. After a few more assurances from me, Leigh and Sienna left for the day and Ivan and Tommy returned to the kitchen. When I was alone again, anxiety skittered through me like thousands of tiny bugs. I set to work cleaning up the pancake house, scrubbing the tables with more vigor than usual, trying to channel my nervous energy into the job.

  Once everything was spic-and-span, I tried to focus on some office tasks, but without much luck. Eventually, I gave up and said a quick goodbye to Ivan—the only other person left at the pancake house by then—and set off for home.

  As I walked along the beach, the sun shining down on me, and happy children’s voices dancing through the air, I breathed deeply, hoping the fresh, salty air would relax me. It helped a little bit, but not much, and when I reached my blue-and-white Victorian I was uncomfortably hot and still uneasy.

  After letting myself into the house, I kicked off my sneakers and made a beeline for the refrigerator. I poured myself a tall glass of iced tea and drank it down in a matter of seconds. I had a weakness for sweet tea, especially during warm weather and in times of stress. Since I was currently experiencing both of those things, the cold drink was especially welcome.

  Flapjack trotted into the kitchen as I set the empty glass on the counter and when he rubbed up against my leg, I scooped him up into my arms and buried my face in his fur.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  He purred, the vibrations rumbling against my cheek. The typical welcome from the orange tabby brought a genuine smile to my face. I planted a kiss on the top of his sleek head, grateful to have the cat in my life.