“Yes. Okay,” she said, sounding very uncertain indeed.
22
“Hi,” Jessie said, rearranging her grip on the box she was carrying so that she could hold out her hand to Cassie. “Thanks for agreeing to see me. I know this must be weird.”
“Why,” Cassie said, scrunching up her face. “Why would it be weird? I have visitors call from time to time.”
Jessie gritted her teeth. “I’m sure you do. I only meant… look, I thought it might be nice to sit and chat over a coffee and some cake, but I know it’s awkward for you to talk about what happened with that man. I wouldn’t push you to do it if it wasn’t for the fact that I think it’s important.”
“So you said.” Cassie led Jessie down a dark hallway into a little kitchen. It was dimly lit too, but even in the poor light, she could see that there wasn’t an item out of place. The whole room was filled with the mouth-watering aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
Jessie dropped the box on the kitchen bench. Cassie said nothing, nor did she invite her to sit. After a somewhat awkward pause, Jessie pulled out one of the bench stools and sat on it.
“So.”
“So.”
Jessie swallowed. Cassie was eyeing her with a strange mix of hostility and fear. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so lost for words around another person.
Then she reminded herself of everything the woman had been through. Jessie told herself to take off her amateur detective hat and start acting like a decent human being.
“It can’t have been easy.”
Cassie’s eyes widened. “No, it’s not.” She bustled to the coffee pot and poured the steaming liquid into two mugs.
Jessie pointed to the box on the bench. “Will I… do you have a plate I can put these on?”
“Sure.”
Jessie arranged the pastries on a plate as Cassie carried their coffees over and took a seat beside her.
“You don’t need to manipulate me into talking about it, you know. I want to help. If it’ll help catch a murderer… I’m not a monster, you know.”
“I never thought anything of the kind.”
Cassie frowned as if searching Jessie’s face for some sort of sign that she was lying.
“Really,” Jessie said, unable to keep from laughing at the strangeness of the other woman’s opinion of her. “I never thought you were a monster. A little hard on yourself, maybe, and prone to judging people that don’t hold your own values, but never a monster.”
Cassie glared at her for a few moments before she looked away and sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to admit, but I think living alone all this time has made me very set in my ways. I haven’t had to compromise with anybody else in a very long time.”
“I live alone too.”
The other woman’s eyes flashed with anger. “How could you understand? You’ve got Mayor Stevens. And your family.”
“That’s what I mean. I live alone but I’m still…” she shook her head. “Look, I didn’t come here to judge. I’m certainly not in a position to judge anybody else. All I’m saying is relationships aren’t some rosy idyll. You have to work at them. They’re not all sunshine and smiles.”
“I know that. I’m not an idiot.”
Jessie sighed. She couldn’t recall ever meeting anybody so prickly. Her desire to make peace with the woman and maybe become friends was starting to seem foolish in hindsight. After all, she took enough attitude from her aunt and cousin without taking on a friend who’d snap at her at every turn.
“Okay. So let’s talk about the guy you met on Tinder if we can. Can you tell me everything you know about him?”
“Why? What’s this about? I’m not sure I want to tell you anything that might be used against me.”
“Trust me. I’m not going to use it against you.”
“Why do you need to find him? Do you think he’s a suspect in the case?”
Jessie chewed the top of the pen she had taken from her purse. “I don’t know. I’ll level with you. It seems very strange to me that this man just materialized out of nowhere. I mean, how long have you been living in Springdale?”
“Twenty years.”
“What did he tell you? I mean, did he try and explain why you hadn’t met him before?”
“He’s been in the navy since he was barely out of high school. It makes sense.”
“And remind me—why was it that he could only meet you at that particular time on the day of the parade?”
Cassie colored. “He said he was getting to town then and he really wanted to see me. He couldn’t wait.”
“And it was his idea to book the room?”
“Yes of course!” Cassie looked strained. “Do you honestly think I’d suggest such a thing myself?”
“No,” Jessie said automatically. “I don’t. I’m just wondering how he convinced you to do it. What did he say that pushed you to do something that you so obviously regret?”
Cassie looked down, shaking her head as if the very act of recalling it caused her a great deal of pain.
“Please,” Jessie sighed. “I know this might turn out to be nothing, but if it’s somehow linked to the case then you’re the only person who can help.”
“I know… it’s just…” Cassie sighed. “I keep thinking that the ladies from my choir have somehow found out the truth. I haven’t been able to relax for days.”
“They haven’t found out from me or the chief, that’s for sure. Did you know the hotel receptionist?”
Cassie shook her head. “No. It wasn’t a hotel it was an Airbnb rental. There was a little box attached to the wall that contained the key. The owner sent me the combination. I didn’t meet anybody there and I purposely chose a listing where I didn’t know the owner.”
“So it’s okay. Nobody knows.”
Cassie shook her head. “He knows. He knew about my religious beliefs. He convinced me and convinced me and I finally relented.” She looked up with a tear in her eye. “And then he didn’t even bother to show up. It was like a game to him!”
Jessie wondered if there was any truth to that but she couldn’t see how it would be worth the man’s while to convince a woman to book a room and then not show up to meet her. “There has to be a more plausible explanation for this. Maybe something came up and he hasn’t been able to get in touch.”
“No,” Cassie said. “I checked Tinder that afternoon and his profile had been deleted. If he was able to delete his profile then he was able to contact me and tell me he wasn’t coming. I don’t care about the cost of the room even though I could hardly afford it. No, what bothers me is I allowed him to lead me astray like that.”
Jessie bit her lip. “What was he like? Did you chat to him often before you decided to meet?”
Cassie turned her head away. Her body shook as crying jags overcame her. “No. No, and it fills me with revulsion and—”
“What sort of things did you talk about? He must have been very charming to break down your barriers like that.”
“I don’t know,” Cassie said.
“Do you have any of the chats saved? You don’t have to show me, but if you could look at them it might jog your memory.”
“I deleted the app.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry it’s not much help. I couldn’t stand seeing the icon on my phone.”
Jessie sighed and massaged her temples. “Can you talk me through as much as you can remember?”
“Okay.” Cassie took a deep breath. “We matched about a week ago I think. I was surprised we matched at all: it doesn’t seem like there are many single men in this town, at least not around my age. He sent me a message straight away to say hello.”
“And you chatted for a bit?”
Cassie nodded. “Let me see. He was so excited when I told him I’m from a navy family because he’s in the navy. We chatted a lot about faith and church.”
“What church does he go to?”
Cassie frowned. “He asked me a lot
of questions about my life, but I don’t think… I don’t recall if he answered my questions about his.”
“What else did you talk about?”
“Oh, this and that. He said his father was a businessman so we talked some about my business and how I was trying to turn it around.”
“Did you speak about Albie at all?”
“No,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “I didn’t want to burden him with that.”
“Did he ever mention the parade?”
“No. Not once. Maybe he didn’t know about it because he’s spent so much time at sea. He said he couldn’t wait to get back here. And when he did, he wanted me to be the first person he might see.”
“Uh-huh,” Jessie said, frowning. She had limited experience with the dating app—her aunt had set up a profile for her a long time ago. More recently, she had helped her cousin Mel to set up her own profile, but she hadn’t done much on it apart from giggling over the pictures of men holding giant fish that seemed to be contained in every second profile that flashed up.
Jessie was thinking about something, though. She and Mel had ventured to Stanleyton for the day and Mel had been sitting in the passenger seat silent as a rock. When Jessie had asked her why she was so preoccupied, Mel had answered that she had access to a whole new supply of male Tinder users.
“Isn’t it location-dependent?” Jessie asked slowly.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean you can only see men within a certain radius of Springdale. Do you remember noticing that?”
Cassie considered this and shrugged. “I rarely leave town so I can’t say I noticed any change.”
That’s strange, Jessie thought with a frown. “Remind me. When did you start speaking to him on Tinder?”
“Around a week before the parade. He was counting down the days to his arrival.”
“But,” Jessie said. “That would mean he was in the area. If not, how would his profile have been visible to you? Isn’t it all run off GPS?”
Cassie looked alarmed. “That’s not what he said. He told me he was using satellite internet on his ship.”
“I see. Okay. When he suggested Saturday, did you object and tell him you couldn’t make it because of the parade?”
“No, of course not,” Cassie said with a flash of irritation. “I told you before—in fact, you grilled me about it—I only booked the stall the day before the parade.”
“Of course,” Jessie murmured, feeling like a fool for having forgotten such an important detail. “Okay, did you tell him that you had the stall booked? Did you try and reschedule?”
“No. I suppose I thought I could do both. I asked if he’d mind meeting at two instead of one like he’d suggested. He seemed okay with that.”
“Did you tell him about your stall?”
Cassie thought about it and nodded. “Yes. We’d spent a bit of time discussing my business so I sent him a message to say I’d taken steps to improve my profits.”
“You mentioned nothing about the trouble you were having with the bank.”
“No. I told you.”
“You’re certain?”
The other woman nodded. “Yes. I was conscious about coming across as whiny. I tried not to say anything that might seem negative.” She hung her head. “Not that it helped.”
“What did he say?”
Cassie shrugged. “I can’t recall. Something about being pleased but he had to hurry off to work and he’d see me Saturday.”
Jessie sighed. Frustration was mounting within her as it seemed her hunch was nothing more than that. “It’s a pity he vanished off Tinder. It would have been good to see his profile and how he described himself.”
Cassie frowned. “His profile is gone, but you can still see it,” she said at last.
“How?”
Cassie reached for her phone. “I debated showing you this, but I suppose there’s no harm in it since you already know I planned to meet with him. I took a screenshot of his profile and sent it to my email address. That way if anything happened, the cops would know who was responsible.”
Jessie balked. “You didn’t trust him? Why on earth would you agree to meet him in an apartment alone?”
A single fat tear rolled down Cassie’s cheek and Jessie wanted to kick herself for not thinking before she spoke. “I didn’t feel like I had a choice. He seemed interested in me. I thought maybe this was it; that if I didn’t do things how he wanted that I might miss my last chance at happiness. I mean, we were just meeting there to talk—not that people would believe that. We both hate noisy places. I feel like such a fool.”
Jessie reached over and grabbed the woman’s hand, squeezing it tight. “You’re not a fool.”
Cassie took the tissue Jessie handed her and blew her nose loudly. “I suppose,” she said morosely, getting up to throw it in the trash and wash her hands. When she returned to the bench, she picked up her phone and tapped the screen a few times.
“There,” she said flatly. “That’s him. I suppose I should have known it was too good to be true.”
Jessie stared at the picture on the screen. It was a screengrab of the main page of the man’s profile. His picture showed a good-looking man in a white t-shirt. In the top corner, the location said ’Springdale’. She didn’t see the sense in pointing this out to Cassie, who had been through enough already without beating herself up over falling for that lie.
His short profile description said nothing at all about him once you took away the clichés and the background of the photo didn’t offer much insight into the man either.
Jessie shook her head. She was sure she had never met this man before, but there was something strikingly familiar about him. She stared at the picture, willing herself to connect the dots.
Where did she know him from?
23
It was no use. Jessie had spent most of the night searching for pictures of actors she had seen in movies recently. She had hunted for images of the members of bands she liked. She even tracked back through the past several months’ worth of photos on the Springdale Chronicle website as well as her Facebook page.
She still had no idea where she knew the man from.
She thought about going to the police station before she headed to Lindemann’s, but decided against it. She was far too antsy to wait for the chief. Even though she hadn’t slept, she knew there was no point in even trying. The mysterious Tinder man and how she knew him was going to bug her until she figured it out. And it didn’t look like she was going to do that anytime soon.
Failing that, the only thing that would keep her sane was some good old-fashioned hard labor.
She went straight to Lindemann’s, relishing the fact that the restaurant was closed. They had temporarily stopped opening for breakfast now that business was so slow. She felt guilty but knew there was no alternative. There was no sense in her sinking her meager savings into staff wages. She couldn’t keep doing that forever and they were losing money by opening in the morning.
By eight in the morning, she was sweating and in desperate need of sustenance. She let herself into the restaurant kitchens and looked around. She hadn’t eaten before leaving the house and she was ravenous now. She settled for scrambled eggs and set about cooking them on one of the huge industrial stoves. It was a world away from the setup in the Bakehouse, which was far more sophisticated than a home kitchen but still nothing on this.
“I wouldn’t use that one,” said a voice behind her. “It’s way too unpredictable. Maria almost singed her eyebrows on it the other day.”
Jessie spun around, her spirits lifting at the sight of her friend. “Hey, Stacey. What are you doing here so early? And why didn’t you tell me if there was a fault with the stove? It’s my job to fix these things.”
Stacey smiled. “You already have so much on your mind. I suppose we didn’t want to worry you.”
“That’s sweet of you, but it’s my butt on the line if anything happens. I want you to promise
me you’ll tell me about these things in future.”
“I will.”
“How come you’re in so early? We’re not opening for breakfasts again until things pick up.”
Stacey smiled sheepishly. “I know that. Look, hon, you’re like clockwork coming here in the mornings. I guess I wanted to help you out is all.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes I do,” Stacey said, coming closer and touching Jessie’s arm.
In that moment, a sensation akin to pins and needles shot through Jessie’s skin. It was less to do with her friend’s touch and more to do with her piercing blue eyes. Jessie had stared into identical eyes just the night before. Her heart thumped as she processed this insight.
Was it a coincidence? Was it little more than her overtired mind making a leap? After all, lots of people had blue eyes.
But that wasn’t true, was it? It wasn’t just the color of the eyes, she thought frantically, it was their shape and the deep distinctive crow’s feet at their corners.
Jessie looked away, not wanting to alarm the other woman or alert her to the very strange thoughts that were running through her mind at that moment.
She cleared her throat. “I appreciate it. It’s so sweet of you to think of helping me like this.” She worked hard to inject some calm and warmth into her voice. How did she usually act when she was around friends? She was about to tell Stacey that she should go home and relax when she remembered something.
Stacey had mentioned her brother, hadn’t she? She had told Jessie that her brother had seen the same strange man in black as Jessie.
It had to be Stacey’s brother. There was no other explanation for the strong resemblance. She and Jessie were friends in the sense that they worked together but they weren’t close confidants. Jessie didn’t know how many siblings the other woman had or where she came from originally.
“Hey, are you okay? Want me to make you a coffee?”
Jessie shook her head. “No, I’m fine, thank you. I’ll just eat these eggs and get to work.” What would I say to you if I hadn’t just linked you with Cassie’s Tinder man? she wondered. She cleared her throat. “You don’t have to stay and help. I’m fine.”
Pumpkins are Murder (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries Book 8) Page 9
