by Hillary Avis
“Well, the killer took her purse before pushing her onto the tracks, right? And the purse is the logical place for the money. We know the killer went through the purse, because Marigold’s wallet wasn’t inside it when Trevor found it. And Marigold must have known that someone wanted the check, or she wouldn’t have stuffed it into her bra.”
“OK, go on.” Charley lay back down on the couch and put the pillow over her face.
Bethany scanned her notes to find her place. “Ah, yes. Since we know the murderer killed Marigold because of the money and did not get the money, the murderer is still motivated to get the check.”
“Yeah, but the check is in evidence,” Charley said through the pillow.
“That brings me to part three, get the check out of evidence.”
This time Charley rolled off the couch onto the floor and lay there pretending to be dead.
“It doesn’t have to be the real check. Just look enough like the real check for the murderer to believe it’s real.”
“Phew.” Charley crawled back onto the couch, but stayed propped up on her elbows, watching Bethany with more interest. “I kind of see where you’re going with this.”
“I don’t,” Kimmy said. She sat down on the floor and crossed her legs. “You’re going to use the check to bait the murderer into what? Confessing?”
“You do get it!” Bethany high-fived her.
“Why would the murderer confess?”
“Well, not confess, but expose him or herself by trying to steal the check again,” Charley explained.
“But why does Ben need to be released from jail?” Kimmy looked at Bethany.
“Because he didn’t do it,” Bethany said, crossing her arms and glaring at Charley.
Charley threw the pillow at her. “You don’t know that. You just want it to be true.”
“I know-know. It’s all about the purse.” Bethany tried to keep a smug expression off her face, but Kimmy saw it and pointed at her.
Charley, irritated, said, “How do you figure? Ben could just have easily snatched it, taken out the wallet, and dumped the purse and keys before someone saw him with it.”
“No way. First of all, Ben would never in a million years dump those keys in a trash can. Those keys are like diamonds to him. He’d immediately recognize them.”
Charley nodded. “Fair point. But I also think it’s possible that Trevor was lying about the keys being in the purse. If he was the murderer, he’d want us to think he didn’t have his keys that day, because it would mean he wasn’t on the platform at 10:55. So we have to believe Trevor if we consider the keys as evidence of Ben’s innocence, and I don’t think I can believe Trevor at this point.”
“OK, fine. Question mark by the keys. Second, why would Ben carry the purse all the way out to the ticket office trash can where he might be seen? He’d have gone straight back to his office to look through the purse, and then disposed of it from there.”
Charley tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe. But maybe he was also smart enough not to keep the purse in his office, you know? There were cops all over Newbridge Station that day. He’d have wanted the purse as far away from himself as possible. Something that size isn’t easy to hide...you saw what a bad job Trevor did.”
Bethany nodded. “Fair point. Third, Ben thought Trevor was doing the maintenance rounds that day. He’d have been sure to run into Trevor on the platform or in the tunnels on a normal day. So if Ben were the killer, I don’t think he would have taken the purse at all. It was too likely he’d be seen with it. He could have just left the purse with Marigold’s body, waited for the police to recover the check, and the check would have been put back in the historic restoration fund. Only someone who wanted the check for themselves would have taken the purse.”
“Hm.” Charley sat still on the couch, and Bethany waited with her heart in her throat. “Hm.”
“He totally didn’t do it!” Kimmy blurted out. “You know he didn’t, Charley. You have to let him go!”
Finally, Charley nodded. “You’re right. I have to go file another report after midnight. Thanks a lot, Bethany. Why can’t we have these conversations at three in the afternoon?”
“Because I do my best thinking with Kimmy around.” Bethany grinned. “Wait, one more question before you go. Something’s been bothering me. Did Jen’s fiancé have a ticket for the 10:55 train? I mean, did someone see the ticket to confirm it?”
Charley frowned. “I don’t remember. I don’t think I interviewed him. I’ll look up his statement while I’m there.”
After Charley left, Kimmy picked at the stitches in the throw pillow and was uncharacteristically quiet. Bethany went to the freezer to investigate the ice cream situation. “We’ve got chocolate and chocolate,” she reported.
“Chocolate for me,” Kimmy said.
Bethany scooped them both a serving and returned to the couch where Kimmy had nearly picked a hole in the pillow. “Is something bothering you?” Bethany asked, handing her a bowl and spoon.
“I was just thinking about who might have done it. You know, pushed her. If it’s not Ben”—Kimmy shoveled in a huge bite of ice cream—“then who? Augh, brain freeze!”
“I know. That’s why I’m trying not to think about it too much. No point in driving ourselves crazy—it’ll all come out tomorrow.” Bethany looked over and saw Kimmy’s eyes welling up with tears. “What? Ice cream headache? Or something else? You have to tell me what you’re thinking.”
Kimmy kept her eyes on her bowl. “What if it’s Olive?” she said, her voice cracking when she said Olive’s name.
“Olive couldn’t kill someone!”
“I don’t know,” Kimmy said. “She’s soft on the outside, but the woman is made of steel. But she doesn’t have an alibi, does she? And Bethany—she really needs money right now.”
Bethany rolled her eyes. “What are you talking about? The Honor Roll is doing great!”
“But Garrett isn’t doing great.”
“She said he wasn’t feeling well, but I don’t know what’s going on—do you?”
Kimmy nodded slowly. “He has liver cancer, and he needs surgery. Their health insurance only covers part of the cost. It’s going to run them thousands of dollars, and I don’t think they have it. All their money is in the bakery and their house.”
Bethany stirred her ice cream until it started to soften. She took a bite and savored the creamy chill on her tongue, considering the new information. Could Olive be the murderer? I mean, she didn’t like Marigold, but would she kill her for money? It seemed preposterous. But then, Olive herself said that desperate people do stupid things—and finding out that your husband was dying would make a person pretty desperate. “When did they learn about Garrett’s cancer?”
“Last week.”
“That’s enough time to freak out and decide to do something drastic, I guess. How would Olive know Marigold had the money, though?”
“Maybe she told her she had a windfall coming. Bragged about it. The woman had a big mouth.”
Bethany nodded as she scraped the last few drops of ice cream from her bowl. That seemed entirely in character for Marigold, who’d even blabbed about Ben’s poker-game proposal. Bethany stopped with her spoon in her mouth. “Wait—Garrett knew about the restoration fund donation. Maybe he and Olive figured out that Marigold had taken it.”
“Garrett did? How?”
“He was at the poker game on Monday night when Ben told everyone about it.”
Kimmy paused with her spoon in her mouth. “So Garrett found out at the same time as Marigold and Trevor.”
“And Jen, too. She had just come into town that afternoon. Marigold said she came with her to the poker game. I remember because she called her a party pooper for not gambling.” Bethany made a face at Marigold’s choice of words. “What do you think Marigold was going to do with that money, anyway? She had to know she’d get caught if she was flashing it around.”
Kimmy cleared their dishes to t
he sink and rinsed out the bowls, stacking them neatly on the counter. Over her shoulder, she said, “She probably just assumed Ben wouldn’t turn her in to protect his job. I doubt she told Olive that she was going to steal it. Probably just said she was going to inherit some cash or something.”
“You’re talking like Olive did it. Like it isn’t even a question.”
Kimmy smoothed her head wrap with her hands. “Everything points to her. I just can’t figure out who else it could be.”
“I can help you there,” Bethany said. “Basically anyone who was in the station and wasn’t a passenger on the 10:55 is potentially the killer. So I’ll start listing people, and you can tell me why each person isn’t the murderer.”
“I don’t know if I like this game,” Kimmy said warily as she plopped down on the floor next to Bethany.
“You can quit any time.” Kimmy nodded, and Bethany began. “Me.”
“I quit!”
Bethany laughed. “You can’t quit before you even start. Anyway, I gave you an easy one first.”
“OK, you didn’t do it because you were at Café Sabine, plus you’re a decent human who wouldn’t murder someone. Next.”
Bethany paused. “The weird thing is, this whole situation has made me realize that decent people can commit murder under the right circumstances. Who do we know that isn’t decent? Nobody. And someone we know did this.”
“I don’t want to play this game,” Kimmy said, pouting.
“You don’t have to if it’s stressing you out. I just thought it would be an interesting exercise. We can call it a night.”
Kimmy swatted her on the arm. “No, I can’t sleep now! I’ll be thinking about this all night if we don’t lay it all out. Next suspect!”
“OK, Garrett.”
“Working the counter at the Honor Roll. Too easy. Next!”
“Jen Smith.”
“The cousin? In the bathroom, then working in Marigold’s booth. Next.”
Bethany shook her head. “I didn’t see her come out of the bathroom. And I didn’t notice when she got back to split pea central. She probably had a couple of minutes between the bathroom and the kiosk to run down to the platform and push Marigold.”
“I guess so. I haven’t met her—from what you’ve said, she doesn’t have enough backbone to be a murderer, but people who are family have a whole lifetime of reasons to kill each other. She’s a question mark. Next?”
“Aaron.”
Kimmy tilted her head questioningly. “That’s the crabby fiancé? He was on the train.”
Bethany held up a finger. “Not so fast. Charley is still checking on that one. He may have just pretended to be a passenger to avoid real scrutiny.”
“Isn’t that why Marigold was on the platform, though? To meet his train?”
Bethany nodded. “Yeah. Or at least, that’s what Jen said. But they could both be lying. Aaron could have been in town the whole time and just not come to the station before that morning.”
“Well, Marigold was on the platform for some reason,” Kimmy said. “If it wasn’t to meet that guy’s train, then why was she down there?”
“Let’s see. She could have been meeting someone else who was on the 10:55 train. Or she could have been lured there by the murderer for some reason other than meeting the train.” Bethany drummed her fingers on the coffee table while they thought.
“Question mark by the crabby fiancé, then. At least until Charley checks on his ticket. Next suspect.”
“Trevor.”
“Um. Too dumb?” Kimmy grinned.
“Well, he did get caught with the purse,” Bethany said. “But Trevor isn’t dumb. He can fix pretty much anything, and he knows the ins and outs of the train station like no one else, not even Ben. He owed Marigold money, and she clearly needed money or she wouldn’t have stolen the check from Ben’s office. Maybe she saw him on his rounds, tried to hold his keys hostage to collect the money he owed her, and the conversation went south. He’s a big guy—he wouldn’t even have to push her very hard.”
“It sounds plausible when you put it that way. I’d give Trevor more than a question mark on your little list. Who’s left? Ben?”
Bethany nodded. “What do you think about him?”
“I think...I think Ben had the hots for her, and that’s always a good motive to kill someone.”
“It is? Planning to kill Charley anytime soon?”
“No, of course not.” Kimmy rolled her eyes. “Charley’s too tough to kill, plus she has a gun and a Taser and stuff. She’s a black belt in karate, did you know that?”
Bethany nodded. “Yup. But you’re supposed to be telling me why Ben didn’t do it.”
“Oh yeah. He didn’t do it because the check led back to him. It’s too obvious. And he’s a principled person—principled enough that he didn’t give Marigold the money, even though he knew she’d report him to his superiors and he’d probably lose his job. If he was the kind of person who’d murder someone, he’d just give her the cash out of the restoration fund. No skin off his teeth, right? It wasn’t even his money.” Kimmy stifled a huge yawn. “Next suspect.”
“Ummm”—Bethany checked her list—“I think that’s it.”
Kimmy snapped her fingers. “Wrong! You missed one.”
Bethany ran down the list: herself, Olive, Garrett, Jen, Aaron, Trevor, Ben. “That’s everyone.”
“One more person was there. You saw him right after the train came in, remember?”
Bethany thought back. Right after the 10:55 arrived, Milo showed up at the kiosk to taste the soup for the food feature. He’d seemed—normal. Definitely not like he’d just killed someone. “So is it my turn to say why he didn’t do it?”
Kimmy nodded.
“OK, one, he would have had to run from the platform to the kiosk, but he wasn’t out of breath at all.”
“Maybe he’s in really good shape from running marathons or something.”
“He does ride his bike a lot.” Bethany drummed her fingers on the coffee table, thinking. “Two, he had no motive to hurt Marigold.”
Kimmy cocked her head to the side. “You know him so well? Maybe he and Marigold were having a”—she wiggled her finger around—“thing. And he found out that Ben proposed or something. Maybe it wasn’t about the money at all, and she had some kind of love note from him in her purse, so he took the purse to hide evidence of their relationship. Or maybe he knew about the money and wanted it—I don’t think newspaper reporters are exactly rolling in the dough.”
“I thought we were talking about why he didn’t do it.” Bethany glared at Kimmy, surprised that her heart was beating so fast. Kimmy’s idea was silly, right? Milo and Marigold? Oh no, even their names sounded good together! “A secret relationship might explain how Marigold got him to come down to the station for a food feature when I’ve been open for months without any interest from the paper.”
“And you have to admit, a train station murder is a pretty juicy story for an aspiring crime reporter.”
“You’re not suggesting he committed a crime so he’d have something to write about?!”
“You’re the one who doesn’t like to rule out possibilities.”
Bethany sighed. “I guess it’s possible. If he thought the story would be a career-maker and he was completely amoral and evil, murder could be a logical choice. A career is worth more than fifty thousand dollars.”
“See?” Kimmy said. “You can’t rule him out.”
Bethany shook her head. “You just don’t want it to be Olive.”
“You just don’t want it to be Milo.” Kimmy crossed her arms and scowled.
“I guess we both have our blind spots,” Bethany snapped. She looked at the clock. Almost 1:30. Maybe she was feeling so annoyed because she was tired. “I’d better go to bed. I have to get up in five hours to make Marigold’s memorial soup.”
“Guess that means I have to get up in five hours, too,” Kimmy grumbled.
Bethany sighed. �
��I’m sorry. Maybe I should start looking for another place to cook. I don’t want to be a hassle for you like this. I know it’s a big risk for you to let me use the café kitchen.”
“It’s not a hassle! I’m just tired.” Kimmy gave her a sympathetic smile.
“It is a hassle. You have to open early for me all the time, and you work late almost every night. You taste my soups and give me pointers and show me new techniques. You order ingredients for me, and you never complain about any of it. You’ve done so much to help me get Souperb going. I’ll never be able to pay you back for all that.”
“I said it’s not a hassle!”
“Thanks, Kimmy.” Bethany said. “But if it ever is a problem for you, you’ll tell me, right? I don’t want to take advantage of you just because you were trying to help out a friend. Any time, you can kick me out of your kitchen—no hard feelings.”
Kimmy nodded and yawned. “G’night.”
“Night.”
After Kimmy closed the door to her bedroom, Bethany’s stomach was still in knots. Her list of suspects had more question marks than anything else, and she had to make sure all of them knew that the check was still up for grabs at the memorial. There was no way around it—tomorrow she had to lie to all her friends. And worse, by the end of the day, they would know she’d lied to them because she thought they were capable of murder.
Chapter 9
Saturday
BETHANY DEGLAZED THE stock pot where she’d been sautéing ramps with an entire bottle of pinot grigio.
“Wow!” Charley said as she was hit with the cloud of wine-steam. “Can I taste it yet?”
“Ew, no, it’s just hot wine right now,” Kimmy said.
“How much longer until I can have some?” Charley asked, leaning against the counter opposite the range.
Bethany added a couple gallons of vegetable broth, stirred the soup, turned the flame down, and put the lid back on the pot. “Did you skip breakfast this morning or something?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. I was too busy doing stuff like letting your friend out of jail.”
Kimmy swooped in, gave Charley a peck on the cheek, and handed her a croissant. “For that, you get a snack to tide you over.”
