by Casey Mayes
She clearly thought about it, and then finally nodded. “I know what that bond means to you, so I’m going to trust you. Regardless of what your source told you, it wasn’t every day. I gave Joanne coffee occasionally, and a scone here and there. It wasn’t that big a deal.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem telling me why,” I said.
Barbara nodded. “That’s true enough. I owed her a favor. She helped me out once, and I was grateful for it, so I showed her my appreciation with a freebie every now and then.”
“How did she help you?”
“I’m not about to go into that with you,” she said. “It had nothing to do with her murder.”
She started to get up when I asked, “Where were you the morning she was murdered?”
“I was here, where I am every day,” she said dismissively.
“Don’t you take a morning off now and then?”
“I do,” she said.
“Then it shouldn’t be hard to learn if you were here then or not.”
She frowned at me, and then finally said, “Fine. I took some time off that day. I had a headache, so I decided to sleep in.”
“When did you come in?”
“I was here in time for lunch,” she said.
“So, you had the opportunity to get to Asheville and back, and no one would have been the wiser.”
“That might be true, but as I said, I had no reason to wish Joanne harm. If anything, I owed her for past kindnesses.”
“So you say,” I said.
“Savannah, I’m finished with this conversation.”
She walked into the back before I had a chance to say anything. A young employee came out to watch the front the second she disappeared, and I knew our interview was over.
I had no idea what favor Joanne had done for Barbara, or if any of what she’d just told me was indeed true. Returning a favor could be her motivation, but so could a low level of blackmail. I couldn’t imagine what that might be, but I was determined to find out. We had a new player in our list of suspects, and I was going to go after her, regardless of the consequences.
Chapter 17
WHEN I GOT HOME, I FOLLOWED THROUGH ON MY promise to myself to grab a hot shower, and after I toweled off my hair, I lit a fire in the fireplace. Zach wasn’t home yet, but there was a message from him on the machine.
“Hey, your telephone is turned off. Did you know that? Call me when you get this. I’m worried about you, Savannah.”
I checked my phone and saw that my cell battery was dead. It had been having trouble holding a charge lately. I had to get a replacement battery, and soon, since I lived and died by my phone.
I plugged it into the charger, and then dialed Zach’s number. “Sorry about that; my battery died again.”
He sounded relieved as he asked, “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “I found out a few new things that are interesting.”
“I’m listening.”
I brought him up to date on my conversations with Hannah and Barbara—leaving out the reason why, as I’d promised her—and he whistled when he heard about Barbara’s generosity. Zach said, “I never heard a whisper about that, did you?”
“No, but for a place that can spread rumors at the speed of light, some information is pretty tightly held around here.”
“Tell me about it,” he said. “Why was she doing it, anyway?”
“I promised I wouldn’t say,” I replied.
He seemed to mull that over, and then finally said, “That’s good enough for me, then.”
I loved how my husband could switch gears so quickly. “Zach, is there any chance you’ll be home in time for dinner tonight?”
“I’m nearly finished here,” he said. “What did you have in mind? I could pick up a pizza on the way home if you’d like.”
Pizza was part of our fallback diet, but I was frankly getting a little tired of it. “How about some potato soup, instead?” I suggested. “It might be good on a night like tonight.”
“That sounds great,” he said. “I’ll be home in an hour.”
“It’ll be ready when you get here,” I said as I hung up. I started boiling the potatoes and carrots as I thought about what I’d learned. Someone had killed Joanne Clayton, but it seemed like every time I thought I was making progress in my investigation, someone new popped up. I’d eliminated three suspects, and added a new one along the way. Barbara Brewster was a curious case. She could have had a reason to kill Joanne that she hadn’t told me, and the fact that poison was used gave me a vague sense of unease. Why did I think she even had the means to kill Joanne? It wasn’t as though she had anything poisonous around her coffee shop. Something kept nagging at the back of my mind, but the more I focused on it, the farther it distanced itself from my grasp.
THE SOUP WAS SIMMERING AWAY ON THE BACK BURNER when my husband finally made it home. “The rain’s really picking up out there,” he said as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “I left my coat on the porch.” He sniffed the air. “That smells wonderful. Is it ready?”
“You have time to grab a quick shower if you’d like to,” I said. “The soup can wait.”
“Ordinarily I’d choose food over cleanliness, but right now I’m soaking wet. That sounds great,” he said.
As Zach went upstairs, I turned the heat off the soup and set the table for our meal. While I had the chance, I got out the Parmesan cheese and the Microplane grater. I’d discovered the cheesy addition by accident once, using some leftover Parmesan from another meal. We’d found that the added touch raised the level of flavor in the soup tremendously.
Ten minutes later, Zach bounded downstairs wrapped up in a soft robe I’d bought him for Christmas the year before. It was covered with cartoon bears, moose, and pine trees, and he loved it.
“I’m starving,” he said as he rubbed his hands together. “Is there any sourdough bread?”
“I’ve got it warming in the oven,” I said.
“Do we have any real butter on hand?”
“It’s already on the table.”
He wrapped me in a bear hug. “Have I told you lately how special you are to me?”
“I bet you tell that to all the girls who feed you,” I said with a smile.
“Just you,” he said as he released me. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll serve us both.”
“I’d like that,” I said. Zach dished out the soup, and then took the toasted bread out of the oven.
I grated the cheese over both our bowls, and we had a lovely meal that was uninterrupted, for a nice change of pace.
After we were finished eating, he asked, “Is there any chance we have dessert?”
“There might be some ice cream left in the freezer,” I said.
“Sold. You want some, too?”
“Why not? Let’s eat it by the fire.”
“Sounds great.”
As we settled in, I said, “I had a pair of interesting conversations with my uncles today.”
“Listen, before you get upset, let me explain.”
I shushed him. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I know you’re just looking out for me. Did Uncle Barton tell you about his Alaska property?”
“Are you kidding? He had me drooling within the first thirty seconds with his description. I can’t wait to see it.”
“We could just drop this and leave tonight,” I said.
“What about Joanne Clayton? You can’t just let this case go any more than I can.”
“I know, but I can dream, can’t I?”
He smiled at me. “The second we have this wrapped up, we’ll be on a plane for Anchorage, and that’s a promise.”
I shivered. “Now? It’s going to be freezing up there this time of year.”
“Then we’ll have another excuse to snuggle up to the fire.”
I laughed at him. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t need any excuses.” I moved over beside him just as my telephone rang. “Somebody has wret
ched timing.”
“You could just let it go to voice mail,” he said.
“We both know better than that,” I said as I grabbed my telephone.
“Hello?”
“Savannah, we need to talk.”
I hadn’t been expecting to hear from Barbara on the phone, certainly not at this time of night.
“I’m sorry, but I’m in for the night,” I said.
“This is important, and it won’t keep until morning.”
I’d had about enough of her hot and cold attitude toward me lately. We hadn’t exactly left things on the best of terms earlier, and I was in no mood to trudge through the rain to meet her anywhere. If she was angling for an invitation to my house, she was even more delusional than I could have imagined.
“Sorry, I can’t do anything about that.”
Zach tapped my knee, and I heard him ask softly, “Who is it?”
I shook my head and held my hand up toward him as I waited for Barbara’s response.
“Fine. Can you at least come by the coffee shop first thing tomorrow?”
It was a reasonable request for her to make, but I wasn’t feeling very reasonable at the moment. “I don’t know about getting there that early, but I can probably make it by eight,” I said.
Barbara paused, and then finally said, “If that’s the best you can do, I guess I’ll have to live with it.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I hung up, and Zach could barely contain himself. “Who was that, Savannah? If you need to go somewhere tonight, I can drive you. It doesn’t have to be a big problem.”
“It’s not. I just hate being treated badly.”
“Who’s messing with you?”
“Barbara Brewster has something to tell me, but it’s going to have to wait until morning. I gave her plenty of chances to talk to me today, but she stonewalled me every time I turned around. It’s not going to hurt her to stew over it a little, at least until it’s more convenient for me.”
He shrugged. “It’s your call.”
“You aren’t seriously going to try to convince me to go see her right now, are you? I have a tough time believing you’d ever do that.”
“It’s your investigation,” he said as he collected our ice cream bowls and rinsed them in the sink. “I know how much I hate being second-guessed, and I’m trying my best not to look over your shoulder all of the time.”
“I appreciate that,” I said as I kissed his cheek.
“I’m glad, because it’s tough holding my tongue sometimes.”
I laughed at him as I offered my hand. “I know it’s not all that late, but I’m exhausted. Let’s worry about the case tomorrow, okay?”
“That sounds like a plan to me,” he said.
I FOUND ZACH DOWNSTAIRS MAKING BREAKFAST WHEN I got up the next morning. “Wow, this is a real treat,” I said as I kissed him good morning. “You’re usually gone by the time I get up.”
“I figure that since you’re doing all of the heavy lifting on this case right now, it wouldn’t kill me to lend a hand around here now and then. After all, you cooked last night.”
“You won’t get any arguments from me,” I said as I took a sip of orange juice and sat at the table. I wasn’t there thirty seconds before he put a piece of French toast on my plate.
“Eat fast,” he said with a grin. “You’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes.”
I took a bite, and found it delightful. “I can be a little late. It can’t really matter that much.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “You made an appointment with one of your suspects. You can’t afford to just blow it off, no matter how you might feel about her.”
I took another big bite, and then smiled at him. “You can be a real slave driver; you know that, don’t you?”
“If I ever forget, I’m sure you’ll be there to remind me.”
I took another big bite, and then asked, “Do you want to tag along with me and see what Barbara has to say?”
“I’d love to,” he said as he served himself, “but I’ve got a pretty full agenda myself. I’m going to Asheville with North. She wants to do a little more digging there, so I’ll be out of touch for a while.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Right now,” he said after he finished another bite.
“Did you get enough to eat?”
He smiled at me. “That was my third piece. I think I’m set.” He turned off the griddle, and then added, “Just leave this mess. I’ll take care of it tonight.”
After he was gone, I decided to ignore my husband’s instructions. I didn’t have time to wash them in the sink, but at least I could rinse the dirty dishes enough so the syrup wouldn’t harden by the time Zach got to them.
I got dressed in a hurry and still made it to Barbara’s just a few minutes after eight.
What I didn’t expect when I arrived was that she wouldn’t be there.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S NOT HERE?” I ASKED ONE of the baristas.
“What can I tell you? She called this morning and said that she was going to be running late. I expect her to show up any minute.”
“Then I’ll take a cup of coffee while I wait,” I said.
I found a spot near the window, and I had barely taken my first sip when someone tapped my shoulder. It was the barista who’d served me a few minutes before.
“Savannah, Barbara wants to see you.”
“I want to see her, too. Did something happen to her?”
“No. She asked me to bring you back to her office so you can wait for her there.”
I looked around at the other customers. “Thanks, but I think I’ll wait right here.”
It was clear that the poor woman didn’t quite know what to think of my refusal. The barista started stammering about Barbara’s request, and I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I picked up my coffee cup and said, “You win. I’ll wait for her in the back.”
She started to lead me to Barbara’s office when I shook my head. “Don’t bother. I know the way. Thanks anyway.”
I took the same seat I’d been in a few days earlier and once again looked around for something to read while I waited. The stack of library books hadn’t been touched, and I studied the titles again.
That’s when it jumped out at me.
I suddenly realized what had been nagging at me since the last time I’d been there. With my hands shaking, I reached into the pile and pulled out the book on plants indigenous to North Carolina.
There was a torn piece of newspaper she was using as a bookmark in the pages, and I opened the book right to it.
The chapter was headed, “Deadly poisonous plants in the region, and the toxins they create.”
It appeared that Barbara had been doing some homework on deadly poisons.
“WHAT ARE YOU READING, SAVANNAH?” BARBARA glanced at the book in my hands with a frown on her face. “That’s mine.”
“Actually, it belongs to the library,” I said. “Is this what you wanted to tell me, Barbara? Have you been studying up on poisonous plants?”
She shrugged. “Among other things. What can I say? I have eclectic tastes.”
“Are you trying to tell me this has nothing to do with Joanne’s death? I don’t believe in those kinds of coincidences.”
She shrugged. “Believe what you will. I had the book all along, and when I heard about what happened to Joanne, I started looking for some information on plant poisons so I could figure out why she died.”
“It’s tough to prove which came first, isn’t it?”
She didn’t like that comment one bit. “I don’t have to prove anything to you, Savannah.”
I looked back at the bookmark and saw that the piece she’d torn off had a date on it. It was from yesterday’s paper.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that,” I said.
She took the book from me, but I held on to the marker. “No, you shouldn’t have. What changed your mind
so suddenly?”
I held up the newspaper fragment. “It’s dated yesterday. That backs up your story.”
“You don’t miss much, do you?”
I shrugged. “Once I get into something, it’s impossible to get me to let up on it until it’s finished.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. It’s the reason you’re here.”
“Why is that, exactly? You were kind of evasive on the telephone last night, Barbara.”
“I’m sorry about that,” she said as she put the book back on the stack. “I want to come clean with you about Joanne.”
“I’d like that,” I said, being sure to keep my position closer to the door if I could manage it. Just because she’d satisfied my curiosity about the plant book didn’t mean that I’d absolved her of the murder.
“The truth is that Joanne was blackmailing me,” she said, her voice breaking a little as she admitted it.
“Were you having an affair?”
“What?” Barbara asked, genuinely shocked by my suggestion. “It was nothing like that.”
“Then what was it?”
She frowned, and then admitted, “A few years ago, Joanne caught me in a rather embarrassing position. She sent me a note telling me what she’d discovered, and then made it known that free coffee and scones every now and then would be enough to buy her silence.”
“So, she was blackmailing you with her knowledge, but asked for just coffee and a snack now and then. How can I know that it didn’t escalate? If her demands started increasing, it could be a reason to get rid of her.”
“No, the stakes were never that high. She had something that would embarrass me, but it wasn’t illegal.”
I shook my head. “It would help a great deal if you told me exactly what she knew about you.”
Barbara found that amusing. “If I tell you, then you’ll have something on me, too, won’t you?”
The idea of it mortified me. “I’m not about to blackmail you, Barbara. You have my word.”
“And that’s supposed to be enough?”
I didn’t know what to say to that. “You can tell me, or tell my husband, but one of us is going to know.”
“Then I choose you,” she said a little reluctantly. “If you must know, I used to have a thing with Harry Pike.”
