Beignets and Broomsticks

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Beignets and Broomsticks Page 17

by J. R. Ripley


  All I saw, though, was a big, scary, crazy man with a long-bladed knife.

  ‘What do you want?’ I hollered. Glancing over my shoulder, at my purse on the kitchen table, I wondered if I could reach it and the cellphone inside before Herman smashed through the glass and strangled me.

  Now I knew why there was no sign of the cat. She had probably sensed his presence on the patio and been scared witless. No doubt I would find her huddled far under the bed, cringing in fear. I felt like joining her.

  ‘We need to talk, Maggie Miller.’

  I barely heard him over the thumping of my heart. ‘About what, Herman?’ Did the crazy man think I knew where his City of Gold was? Did he think I was after his treasure? I clutched my throat. Was my neck about to meet the knife?

  ‘About Nancy.’

  My hand fell to my side. That was the last answer I’d expected to hear from Herman. ‘Nancy Alverson?’

  He bobbed his head eagerly up and down.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘What about Nancy?’

  His eyes glistened like jewels. ‘She was murdered.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Definitely a case of heatstroke. Instead of fearing the poor man, I was beginning to wonder if I should call a doctor for him.

  ‘She gave you something.’

  I gasped.

  He smiled and removed his hat. ‘Can I come in?’ He nodded at the door. ‘We need to talk.’

  My hand went to the handle. Did I dare let this crazy man in the house?

  Before my hand could make up its mind, the doorbell rang, startling us both. ‘One minute,’ I said, raising my finger. I hurried to the door. ‘Who’s there?’ I called through the thick wood.

  ‘Open up, Maggie. It’s me.’

  I unlatched the door and turned the knob. ‘Brad. First you disappear and then you reappear.’ I stepped aside. ‘Come on in.’

  ‘I’m not intruding, am I?’

  ‘No. As a matter of fact, a friend of yours is here too. We were about to have what I think is going to be a very interesting chat.’

  Brad wiped his feet at the door – cowboy boots, I noticed – and stepped inside. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his jacket and glanced toward the living-room furniture. ‘What friend is that?’

  ‘Herman the Swede.’ I started toward the kitchen. ‘He’s over here on the—’

  The patio was empty.

  Another man had disappeared from my home.

  Was that supposed to be some sort of sign?

  ‘He was right there …’ I pointed my arm toward the sliding glass door.

  Brad pushed his brows together. ‘Who?’

  ‘I told you. Herman. He was standing right there on the patio.’ I pushed my face against the glass and looked outside. The patio was deserted. ‘I don’t understand. He said he wanted to talk to me.’

  I turned back around. Brad was peering out the window now too. ‘Are you sure it was Herman?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure.’ Once you’ve met Herman the Swede you don’t soon forget him.

  ‘What was he doing on your patio? And at this hour?’

  I blew out a breath. ‘That’s what I’d like to know.’

  ‘What did he want to talk to you about?’ Brad went to the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator. ‘Mind if I grab a beer?’

  ‘Only if you grab me one, too.’

  He opened a can and handed it to me.

  ‘He said he wanted to talk about the Nancy Alverson murder.’

  Brad paused with an open can of beer suspended inches from his lips. He lowered the can slowly and whistled. His eyes went to the dark, empty patio. ‘You don’t say.’

  ‘I do say. The question is what did Herman want to say?’ I raised my brow in question at Brad.

  ‘I wonder why he disappeared.’ Brad unlocked the slider and stepped onto the patio.

  ‘You probably scared him off.’

  Brad frowned. ‘Right.’ He opened the gate and peered into the yard. ‘I wonder how he got here?’

  I joined him. ‘Good question.’ I couldn’t begin to imagine how long it would have taken him to hike in from the area where Brad had said his camp was located.

  ‘Hitchhiked, maybe?’ Brad unfastened the rest of the buttons on his jacket.

  I pictured Herman the Swede standing at the side of the highway after dark, armed with his thumb out. ‘I wouldn’t pick him up. Would you?’

  ‘No.’

  We went back inside and settled side by side on the sofa, the empty middle cushion between us. At least it was for a minute or two, until C2 showed up. She mrowled something incomprehensible to either of us, curled into a big furry ball on the cushion and went back to sleep.

  Lucky girl.

  ‘Why did you disappear without a word like that when Detective Highsmith came over yesterday night?’

  ‘I wanted to follow him. I was hoping he would lead me to VV. I went out the sliding door and hopped into my car.’

  ‘Where did he go? Did he lead you to VV?’

  ‘No.’ Brad stroked the cat’s side. ‘He went to Karma Koffee, ate a pastry, then he went home.’ He eyed me suspiciously. ‘What are you smirking about?’

  I batted my eyelashes oh-so-innocently. ‘Was I smirking?’

  ‘Spill it, Maggie.’

  I set my can down on the side table. ‘As it happens, I had a chat with VV this afternoon.’

  Brad straightened. ‘You did? Where? How?’

  I held up my hand. ‘Whoa, reporter boy. Enough of the questions. Let me explain.’ I told him how Highsmith had asked me to stop by and talk to her.

  Brad was rolling his eyes. ‘Did that guy really think VV would appreciate having your shoulder to cry on?’

  ‘Hey, it worked.’ I wanted to be offended but it was impossible. Brad was right. ‘At least for a little while.’

  ‘Where is she hiding out?’

  I could see from the look on Brad’s face that he was like a shark that had scented blood in the water. ‘Casa Mirasol.’

  ‘Her father’s house.’ Brad snapped his fingers. ‘That figures.’

  ‘Yes, so if you are thinking of storming the gates, I’d think again.’

  ‘Storming the gates of the mayor’s house would not be good for my career. Do you think you can get me an appointment with her?’

  ‘I don’t think she’d even agree to talk to me again, let alone you.’

  ‘Rats.’ Brad finished his beer and set the empty can on the floor. ‘On the plus side, I found out about those guys.’ He moved the can around on the hardwood with his toe.

  ‘What guys?’

  ‘Those guys we saw at the church.’

  ‘Oh. ASK Financial Services.’

  ‘You already know?’

  ‘They were in the café this morning. I got their business cards. How did you find out who they are?’

  ‘I was down at city hall making my usual daily rounds. I saw them go into the records room. The clerk there is a buddy of mine. He told me who they were but wouldn’t budge when I asked what they were looking for.’

  ‘Too bad.’

  ‘Yeah. I looked them up on the internet. They’re from Vegas.’ I didn’t bother to tell Brad that I knew that too. There was only so much disappointment a man could take.

  Brad continued, ‘I dug around and found out that the three of them are staying at the Table Rock Hotel and Convention Center. Klopton is staying in bungalow four. The other two are in separate rooms.’

  In addition to the main buildings, there were a half-dozen garden bungalows for guests.

  ‘That’s not far from the mayor’s house,’ I noted.

  ‘Hey, that’s right.’ Brad pulled his cellphone from his front pocket and showed me the ASK Financial Services website. It was slick, same as them. ‘I haven’t interviewed them yet, but I will.’

  ‘On what pretext?’

  ‘I’ll think of something,’ he said with a confident shrug.

  I yawned. C2 peeked at me then lower
ed her lids.

  Brad stood and picked his empty beer can. ‘I’ll let you get some rest. I know you have to be up early.’ He went to the kitchen. ‘You have a recycle bin?’

  ‘Under the sink.’

  Brad opened the lower cabinet and dropped the can inside. He moved to the sliding glass door. He checked the lock and closed the curtains. ‘I don’t think Herman will be back tonight.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose he will.’ I dropped my own empty can in the bin. ‘I can’t stop wondering what he wanted to talk to me about regarding Nancy’s murder …’

  ‘We’ll find out tomorrow.’ Brad buttoned his coat.

  ‘We will?’

  ‘Sure. You said you want to know what he was doing here, right?’

  I nodded.

  ‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow at the café. What time works for you?’

  As much as I was burning to know what was on Herman’s mind, I knew I couldn’t blow off work. I didn’t know yet whether Kelly would be off sick another day and couldn’t leave Aubrey and Mom shorthanded. ‘We close at three.’

  ‘Three it is.’

  I sat down at the kitchen table with a second beer. Too tired to even think about microwaving, let alone cooking on the stovetop, I opted for a muffin dinner. I nibbled on my Heaven’s Building Block while reading the old copy of the Table Rock Reader that Brad had left for me the other night.

  Brad had done a bang-up job on the story. Then again, he’d had great material to work with. Herman the Swede was certainly one colorful character.

  I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say tomorrow. At the very least, it was sure to prove interesting.

  TWENTY

  Audrey and I were working the counter the next day around noon when Donna and Andy strode in hand in hand. Mom was on her lunch break.

  ‘Two more adorable lovebirds, I’ve never seen,’ I quipped, setting the fryer tub back in place and wiping my hands on my apron.

  During a break in the action, I had decided to change out the oil in the fryer because I noticed it had been getting rather smoky. Always a sign that it was time for some fresh cottonseed oil.

  ‘Hey, Sis.’

  ‘Connor said you wanted to see us?’ Andy said.

  ‘He did?’ I scratched the top of my head. ‘Why would he—’ Oops. The kid had seen through my delaying tactics and outmaneuvered me. ‘Oh, right. Have a seat.’ I poured fresh oil in the tub and turned the heat to 370 degrees.

  I brought a couple of hot green teas to the table. ‘Here you go.’ I offered them each a cup. They both refused the sugar. It wasn’t organic.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Donna asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I replied.

  ‘You were wincing.’

  ‘I was?’

  ‘With every step,’ agreed Andy. ‘You look like you’re in pain.’

  ‘I took a yoga class last night.’ I pressed my knuckles into my lumbar region. ‘I am a little sore.’ Truth be told, I’d had to roll out of bed onto the floor. From there, I’d crawled on my hands and knees, every muscle burning with exquisite pain, to the shower, where I had laid on the tile floor for nearly twenty minutes letting the water pummel me back to life.

  ‘You took a yoga class?’ Andy sounded incredulous.

  ‘Don’t act so surprised. I’m always open to new experiences.’

  ‘Like pain?’ Donna smirked.

  I drilled her with my eyes.

  Andy changed the subject. He slapped his hands on the table. ‘So why are we here? What’s up with Maggie Miller, entrepreneur? Need to borrow some money?’

  ‘This isn’t about me.’ A more solvent person might have been offended.

  ‘It isn’t?’ Donna looked puzzled.

  ‘No.’ Knowing my tendency to avoid sticky situations, I jumped right in. ‘Here’s the thing.’ I grabbed a chair, turned it backwards and sat. ‘Connor has a girlfriend.’

  ‘What?’ They said in unison.

  ‘Well, maybe not a girlfriend, but he—’

  ‘What are you talking about, Maggie?’ demanded Donna, her hand wrapping around her cup.

  She and Andy looked adorable in jeans and flannel shirts. His shirt was green and black, hers blue and brown. Both wore them untucked.

  ‘Yeah, Maggie. What gives? Are you saying that Connor came to you and told you he has a girlfriend?’ Andy pulled his ponytail over his shoulder, his eyes locked on mine.

  ‘Connor came to the café the other day. He told me that he met this girl at a dance.’

  ‘The Halloween dance at the school?’ Donna interrupted.

  ‘Yes. I guess so. Anyway,’ I played with my fingers, ‘he wants to ask her out. You know, on a date?’ I looked from Andy to Donna.

  Donna pouted. ‘We already know that, Maggie.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Andy smiled. ‘Connor already asked us. He’s inviting the girl to dinner, right, Donna?’ He turned to his wife. ‘What was the girl’s name?’

  ‘That’s right,’ my sister agreed. ‘I think Connor said her name is Madison.’

  Andy nodded.

  I shook my head. ‘No, that’s just it.’ I clamped my hand over my sister’s, preparing her for the truth. We all know that sometimes that can hurt. ‘You invited Madison to dinner. At your house. Connor wants to take her to the movies.’

  Donna pulled her brow together. ‘The movies?’

  ‘Just the two of them?’ Andy added.

  ‘Just the two of them.’ I grinned. ‘It’s perfectly normal. Connor is fourteen. Movies, soda, popcorn. It’s all part of growing up.’

  Andy and Donna shared a troubled look.

  Donna tugged at her engagement ring. ‘I suppose …’

  Andy grabbed her other hand. ‘If you think it will be all right, honey.’

  ‘That’s what he really wants?’ Donna asked, turning to me.

  ‘That’s what he really wants,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry. If the date works out, you can invite her over for dinner another time. But keep the meal simple – none of those far-out dishes like that tofu brains and turnip casserole of yours,’ I suggested. ‘We don’t want Madison’s parents accusing you of child abuse.’

  Donna managed a smile.

  ‘There is one other thing.’

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Andy. He leaned back and took a sip of his tea.

  ‘Connor wants to go to public school.’

  ‘What?’ They went off in unison again.

  ‘You’re joking?’ Donna accused.

  ‘Connor told you that?’ Andy set his cup down. I could tell he was really upset because he was playing with his hemp bracelet.

  After a moment of silence, Donna spoke. ‘If that’s what he really wants. I suppose that will be OK. I’ll miss him, of course. But we want him to be happy, don’t we, Andy?’

  Donna and I looked toward Andy.

  Suddenly, the tears were flying, but they weren’t Donna’s. Andy leaned forward, sobbing. Donna jumped up and threw her arms around him.

  ‘Oh, Andy. Don’t cry.’ She thumped him on the back. ‘It’s OK. It’s going to be OK. Connor’s growing up.’

  Andy mashed his fists into his eyes. ‘I know.’ He sniffed. ‘It’s just so hard.’

  ‘Come on,’ Donna said. ‘Let’s get you home. The boys are there. We can have a nice family discussion. OK?’

  Andy scooted back his chair and stood. ‘OK,’ he sniffed again.

  Donna nodded a goodbye and led Andy out the door.

  ‘Smooth, Maggie. Truly, truly smooth,’ chided Aubrey.

  I removed the towel hooked under my apron string and hurled it at her. It flew over the counter and landed atop the waffle maker, where it began to sizzle.

  I had been expecting a few tears, just not Andy’s.

  Brad showed up at the curb outside the café at three on the dot.

  ‘Everything OK?’ he asked as I eased myself into the car.

  ‘Yes. Why do you ask?’

  ‘You looked like you were, I don�
��t know, walking funny.’

  ‘I’m a little stiff today, that’s all. Maybe it’s my mattress. I probably need a new one.’

  I was not mentioning yoga class again and going through a second razzing of the day.

  As we drove out toward the Sacred Church of Witchkraft, I told Brad about some of the other things I had learned concerning the mystery of Nancy Alverson’s death.

  ‘Rob was the person who delivered the tea to Nancy that night. And it was spiked with two hundred milligrams of diphen, diphen … something.’

  ‘Diphenhydramine?’ Brad slowed at a deep rut.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Somebody sure wanted to incapacitate her.’

  ‘Making it easier to strangle her.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Brad ran his tongue over his lips. ‘Do the police suspect Rob Gregory?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I replied, rising in my seat to soften the impact as we took another severe bump. ‘But I do. He has a lot of students, female students in that yoga studio of his. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a groupie or two.’

  ‘And you think Nancy might have been one of those groupies?’

  ‘Maybe, and maybe she threatened to tell his wife about them.’

  I played the scenario through in my mind and came up with an alternative. ‘It could also be that he came onto Nancy and she rebuffed him. Rob has a big ego. I don’t think he would take that very well.’

  Brad chuckled. ‘You really don’t like the guy, do you?’

  ‘He charged me nearly two hundred dollars for a yoga outfit and a rubber mat,’ I said in my own defense. ‘Besides, he took Nancy the tea and he was acting very suspiciously.’

  ‘It would be pretty stupid of him to drug the tea and admit that he’d delivered it.’

  ‘Stupid or clever like a fox?’

  ‘Meaning that he would have to be crazy to make himself look suspicious and might have thrown suspicion on himself knowing that that would only make him look innocent?’

  ‘I’m not sure what you said, but yes.’ Trying to follow that sentence had given me a headache. But I understood what he’d been trying to say. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I’ll do a little digging,’ Brad offered. ‘See what I can find out. Maybe I can talk to some of these students of his. Did you get any names?’

  ‘No, but it shouldn’t be hard to find out. There’s a list on his desk of all the class times and students enrolled in each.’

 

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