by Molly Dox
Gary brushed his hair to the side, a habit he barely noticed anymore. He did the motion six or seven times on getting out of his car. Libby groaned and waited. He’d parked his sheriff’s car smack in front of their restaurant and took up two spots, as if he was more important than everyone else and wanted his presence known. There was no good reason he couldn’t park like a normal person and save a spot for other customers. Sure, things were pretty quiet at the restaurant that day, so it’s not like people were beating down the door to get it. Still, he did it for all the wrong reasons.
Gary pulled open the front door and scampered in, stomping his feet on the welcome mat. “Libby,” he said with a nod. “Rosie around?”
“Who should I say is calling?” she asked and bit her tongue before she made a comment she might regret. She was never a fan of the guy. Though to be fair, they’d had their own share of run-ins over the years. Libby’s past was dotted with a few moments of…umm, moments.
Gary settled on one of the counter stools. He dropped like a mule that buckled at the knees and landed with a thud. The town’s sheriff was a bull in a china shop, hardly graceful. “A lot of men are dropping like flies,” he said, insinuating it was a planned attack.
Libby frowned. “What are you saying?”
“A lot of troubled women here in Spring Valley. You wouldn’t know anything about a circle of….”
Rosie walked out with a tray of fresh cookies. Her back was to the door as she pushed through. On turning around, she saw the sheriff sitting at the counter. She drew a deep breath and figured she’d offer him a cookie to soften the blow. He wasn’t a regular, and with recent events she figured it wasn’t a social call.
“Well, there she is.” Gary stood and pushed his meaty fists into the pocket of his overstretched pants. His button was straining to stay in place. His belt attempted to back up the effort.
“Sheriff Snyder, would you like a cookie?”
“Drop the cookies and the act, lady. We’ve got talking to do.” His tone was harsher than usual. He meant business, as much as he could.
“You watch your tone with my daughter,” Libby said as she barged between them.
Gary sneered and then glared at Libby. “Don’t get too preachy. You’ll need to answer a few questions, too. We got interesting information back, and things aren’t looking good.”
Libby gulped and backed down. This was the last thing she wanted – to get tangled with the guy with the power to arrest her, and had plenty of times in the past. She wished Owen was around. He’d stick up for her and tell old Sheriff Snyder to back off.
Curious. Libby realized she wanted Owen to come save her, not John Patterson. Sure, John would make her a nice meal, but the man was soft at times. He wasn’t the kind of guy to kick it out in the street in your honor, while Owen – well, he’d take care of her.
“Let’s talk in here,” Rosie said. She led the sheriff through the restaurant and opened the door to her home. Libby locked up the café and went to join them.
When they entered the kitchen, Dash went to see what the commotion was about. He circled between Rosie’s legs once she sat down at the kitchen table. He didn’t know who the guy was, but he certainly didn’t care for his tone. Not one bit. He didn’t like the man talking that way to Rosie. Dash considered peeing on the man’s shoe, but thought better of it. He didn’t need Rosie to get into trouble…though a hairball…
“Poison is an interesting thing. Two days, two dead men, both poisoned. You knew we’d be coming for more answers. After all, he dropped like a dead fly,” he said with a gesture toward the restaurant. Gary stretched his chubby legs out in front of him. His shoes inched closer to Dash.
Dash was tempted. For now, he held it in. Oh, the hacking he could do…Don’t tempt me, old man.
“What do you want to know?” Rosie asked, ready to get this over with.
“Formal interview, statements, and the whole nine yards; you’re going to need to come down to the station and go over the details again.” He brushed his hair to the side, though not a hair was out of place.
Libby blurted out, annoyed with the sheriff, “We already gave statements on the day it happened.”
“New information came to light, so pack up your things and let’s head to the station.” He flashed a grin that showed discolored teeth from too much coffee and not enough time spent flossing properly.
The women followed Gary out to his car, which he’d insisted on. He’d return the women when they were finished. It was maybe two blocks at most to the station. It’s not like they couldn’t walk there. Either way, he made a big to-do about keeping things official.
Thankfully, the restaurant was empty, though people seeing them going to the police department in the back of Gary’s car wouldn’t help business. It wouldn’t only be people who were dying – but small businesses if this kept up.
Before they got too far into the process, Libby was fired up and ready for a fight. She wanted no part of this. Sure, she’d caused trouble in the past, more absentmindedly than on purpose, but he was questioning her as if she’d actually murdered someone! The only thing she’d been guilty of murdering in the past was Quiche Lorraine when she overcooked it.
“Are you charging us with anything?” Libby started, making him spill it on the table. “Because if you are, I’m getting a lawyer.”
“Funny you should mention a lawyer…” Sheriff Snyder glared at Libby. She was always a handful. “Don’t bother calling Mr. Banks. He won’t answer.”
“Do you honestly think we had something to do with this?” she snapped.
Rosie sighed. “What do you want to know? Sheriff Snyder, I have nothing to do with what happened.”
Gary challenged Rosie. “A man drops dead in your restaurant, and you’ve got nothing to do with it? Kind of a laisse-faire attitude, if you ask me, but then again, you’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”
“Avoiding? What are you talking about?” Libby spit out. “We’ve been where we always are. It’s not our fault if you get lost trying to find your way out of a shoebox.”
Sheriff Snyder’s shoulders tensed. The vein in his neck bulged. “I’ve had just about enough of your attitude. You keep it up, and I’ll arrest you for interfering with an investigation.”
Libby was about to respond, but thought it best to close her mouth.
Rosie tried to calm the waves that were forming. “Have you learned anything? I’d like to solve this as much as anybody. It’s bad for business. I’d like to put the entire thing behind me. I’ll cooperate however you want. I’m innocent. I feel horrible that the poor man collapsed.”
Gary’s chip fell off his shoulder. His edginess softened. “To be honest, any clues or leads would be potential crime solvers. At this point, all we know is that two men died within days of each other, both at a restaurant. We still don’t have a clue what connects them. Maybe they were separate incidents, but both men were poisoned and that points to a connection. I wish there was more information, but there isn’t, and with limited man power…”
Rosie nodded her head as the sheriff spoke. “Right, I can see how they would appear to be connected, but what if they aren’t? What if they were simply two people?”
Gary sighed. “The same poison was used. What’s the likelihood of two people choosing the same method? And what if there’s another murder? We may well have a serial killer in town.”
“Do you think?” Libby’s mouth gaped open like a fish.
“I sure hope not,” Sheriff Snyder said. “I don’t have that kind of training. And bringing in the higher ups, well, it creates a hassle. Something happened a while back, a solid ten or twelve years ago, I think it was. Remember when the Wendell’s girl went missing? Anyway, I’m hoping to wrap this before other departments start digging in.”
“Oh, I remember that,” Libby said. “What a mess. There were people crawling all over, and still not a trace of the girl.”
“What happened?” Rosie asked. “I don�
��t remember.”
“Oh, that’s when you were ‘finding yourself’ and took off for a while. Well, turns out the Wendell’s girl ran off with an older man. Her parents were livid when the found out. They thought she was dead, but she turns up pregnant and married to a guy twenty years her senior. They up and left town after being brought back to answer questions. The State Police found her. Then her parents threatened to go after the man, only with the timing of the marriage and pregnancy, turns out she was eighteen which made her legal. She’d started seeing him at seventeen, but nobody knew. Anyway, she claimed it was true love. Oh, you missed a doozy.”
“Why did they think she was dead?” Rosie was sucked into the old gossip.
Sheriff Snyder chimed in. “She left all her things. Didn’t pack up a stitch of clothing or anything else; took off and never came home. They figured she’d been abducted, and needed to consider the worst case scenario. Anyway, let’s get back to our current situation.”
Libby shifted in her seat. Gary Snyder set her off. He got under her skin. Maybe it was his weird mannerisms, the way he was short with her, or maybe it had to do with all the times that their paths crossed that didn’t end well for her. Either way, he was hardly her favorite person. The sooner they got out of there, the better.
Rosie looked at the Sheriff who was sweeping his hair to the side, for the umpteenth time. “If we hear anything, you’ll be the first to know. I haven’t held anything back. I don’t know more than what you’ve heard.”
“Fair enough.” He scanned her eyes for tell-tale signs of lying. “You seem on the up and up.”
Libby pouted. “And I don’t?”
“Don’t get me started on you,” he said with a snide laugh. “Good day, ladies. A walk back to the restaurant will do you good. I’m off to get lunch.”
“You were going to-”
“Mom, it’s only two blocks. Let’s go,” Rosie shot out before her mother ended up in trouble. Her mom’s habit of talking before her brain kicked in grew tiresome.
Chapter 9
Christopher Banks and Peyton Darling had one thing in common. They both dealt with ex-wives. While Christopher and Dora’s divorce had gone through, Peyton had been dragging his heels and stepping on Nancy’s toes, crushing her dreams every chance he got.
Nancy Darling wasn’t the kind of woman to make a scene. She was a mousy woman, but smart and savvy just the same. She liked people to underestimate her and could be a bit manipulative. Though, when it came to the pair of Peyton and Nancy, she was the person locals rooted for.
Peyton, well, he was shady at times. He’d have a sudden back injury from out of nowhere and be collecting disability more times than you could count on one hand. Rosie only knew about it because Alyssa from the post office gossiped about him time to time, when he’d come in to sign for his checks. It was the only way he could get them delivered, due to his habitual patterns. The law was probably onto him, but without proof…
Rosie figured it wouldn’t hurt to drop by and talk to Nancy. She owned a gift shop right down the road. It stood next to her brother’s smokehouse. Charlie Staggs made sure she was set up after Peyton destroyed her bed and breakfast. When their mother passed early, Charlie stepped in and watched out for his little sister.
Rosie sent Libby back to the restaurant to open up, and told her she’d be there shortly. She wanted to have a quick talk with Nancy to see what she knew. Rosie thought it was better not to overwhelm her with too many questions, and her mother could be a little pushy. Libby reluctantly agreed and started back to the restaurant.
Rosie turned the corner after she left the Sheriff’s office. The sheriff and police shared space in one common building. It’s not like there were many of either in their town. With a sheriff and a small police department, they were lucky to have their own emergency services in town, as plenty of areas around them were combining into regional group responders to save money on budget costs.
Nancy’s gift shop displayed a small open sign that hung in the glass paneled door. Rosie tried not to notice that the sign was off-center and resisted the urge to fix it once she got inside. With a quick hop and step, she climbed the small set of concrete stairs, then opened the door. Bells jingled, letting Nancy know that a customer entered her store.
She popped in from a back room. Nancy’s shoulder-length, straight, brown hair lacked any depth or sparkle. It’s as if she’d chosen a dull shade to tone down anything nature might have intended. She pushed her silver frame glasses up onto her nose and smiled. It wasn’t a warm smile. It was more like a condescending ‘what do you want’ smile. “Oh, hi Rosie. What brings you here? How can I help you?”
“I was hoping we could talk,” Rosie started. She twisted her fingers together, not sure how to address the awkward topic. “Peyton’s death has become somewhat of a mystery. Do you know anyone who would want him…dead?”
Nancy scowled at Rosie, then rambled out of discomfort. “Do you mean besides me? What are you really asking me? Did I do it? Well, I didn’t.”
“I wasn’t insinuating… Okay, that’s not fair. Let me start over,” Rosie said as she tried to untangle her first mistake. “Nancy, Peyton dropped from his seat while eating breakfast at my restaurant. I have as much of a reason to want to find answers as you do. Don’t you want to show everyone that you weren’t the reason that he died? Most people know you’re involved in a messy divorce situation. Since you didn’t do it, don’t you want to know who did?”
She eyed Rosie up and down and held her tongue. She wanted to zap and snip like a viper, but instead she remained calm. “I really don’t care who did it.”
The door bells jingled. Rosie startled and spun around, though she already knew who it was before she turned.
Libby cleared her throat. It was a sound Rosie knew well. It was never a quick thing, her mother always dragged it out, doing it multiple times, her voice pitched high as if she were begging for attention. Okay, so maybe she was biased. Her mother did a lot of things that drove her crazy, but most people would probably never notice.
“There you are, Rosemary. I need help,” Libby started.
“Mom, not now…”
Libby ignored her daughter and nudged into the conversation. Nancy watched the two women interact and Rosie stiffen up. There was definitely tension between mother and daughter.
“So, Peyton’s dead. Who do you think did it?” Libby posed to Nancy. “Obviously, you’re not going to fess up -- so if you had to figure it out, how do you think the two murders are connected?”
“Wow, going right for the gusto,” Rosie groaned. “Classy, Mom.”
“What? You want me to tiptoe around it, kiddo? A man is dead, a sheriff was questioning us, and business is slow. I don’t know about you, but I can’t afford for our business to tank. We’ve worked too hard for this. If Nancy knows anything, then maybe we have a shot of figuring this out.”
Nancy's pinched nose wasn't doing a good job of holding her glasses up. They slid down the tiniest bit. Without thinking, she reached up and pushed them back in place. “Let’s say I did know something… Why would I tell you? Why wouldn’t I talk to the police? I mean, really, what are you going to do about it?”
“How about helping one of your neighboring businesses,” Libby answered robustly, as if there was any other answer. “I thought we were friends.”
“Is that what you’re calling it these days?” The woman sneered at Libby. “Let’s let the past rest where it belongs. Anyway, I was out of town when it happened, and I haven’t heard anything. I was in Gettysburg and Fredericksburg to look at antiques for the shop. I’ve already been questioned, and I have hotel receipts to prove my whereabouts, along with a gas station receipt.”
Rosie sighed. “Thanks, Nancy. I’m sorry. It’s a weird situation. I’m trying to save my business, and until I can prove who did it, the spotlight will remain on me.”
Nancy nodded. “Fair enough.”
Rosie thanked Nancy for her time and the
n left the shop with Libby.
Libby whispered. “I’ll bet she knows more than she’s letting on.”
“I’m going to see if Jeff is over at the fire station.” She glanced at her watch. He would be taking appointments most of the day, but other days were slower. His veterinarian office was over one town, but his free time was usually at home or at the fire station kibitzing with the other volunteers.
Libby smiled. “I can go with you. I’ve got nothing but time.”
“Mom, please…” Rosie looked for a polite way to say no. “I’d sort of like to talk to him alone. Just the two of us, okay?”
“Oh,” she said, nudging her daughter’s arm. “Finally going to make a move on the handsome guy?”
“Really?” Rosie shook her head…so much for being polite. “Mom, please leave me alone for a few minutes, okay? You go barging in, spitting things out, and some of this stuff needs to be handled delicately.”
Libby pouted. “It’s okay. You can go without me. I’ll go sit with Dash. At least he still likes my company.”
Rosie groaned. How did she end up feeling guilty all the time?
Chapter 10
When Rosie arrived at the fire department, Jeff was already gone for the day. She’d give him a ring later and see if he’d heard any news. A lot of the firemen and cops socialized together and word had a way of slipping out if interesting news or gossip came up.
Rosie tried to focus on things she needed to do, but her mind circled back to the dead men. Disheartened that the sheriff seemed stuck, Rosie knew if she didn’t push for answers, somebody might get away with two heinous crimes.
Rosie made her way back to the restaurant. She was pleased to see her mother behind the counter.
“Things are dead around here,” Libby started tongue in cheek. “I’m dying to see a few customers. In fact, I’ve got a great idea for a killer special.”
