by Lynn Cahoon
I finished the salad, dressed it with a raspberry vinaigrette I loved, and poured a glass of sun tea I’d made last weekend. Cleaning up the counter, I moved my lunch to the table and took out my notebook and a pen.
I stared at the list of possible suspects in Kacey’s murder, which right now included one person. Dustin Austin. I knew Kacey had died of a severe reaction to a wheat allergy, but the girl was smart. She knew how to keep herself safe, and I’d seen an epi pen in her purse, so why hadn’t she used it?
I started writing down the questions that bothered me. Kacey knew about her condition, and as her husband, so had Austin. But it wasn’t like she was shy about talking to others about her allergy. I’d had a brief conversation with her at the food truck, and I’d learned more than I’d ever known about gluten allergies. Of course, we had been talking about the new business. I wrote food truck in big letters in the middle of the page. If getting her to close or sell the truck had been the motive, I knew of three people who would be suspects: me, Sadie, and Lille. I circled Lille a few times, but really, my heart wasn’t into suspecting her. The restaurant owner was more into her bad-boy boyfriends and holding a grudge against anyone who’d ever slighted her. Now if Homer Bell, the guy who’d sold the truck out from under me and Lille, had come up dead, Lille would be top of my list. She hated that guy.
I sighed and wrote down Sadie’s name under the food truck. Not only had Austin stolen her recipes by sucking face with her and pretending to be her boyfriend, she might have lost business for Pies on the Fly if the food truck had been successful. Although that logic didn’t completely ring true, as the customer base for the two businesses were totally different. Thinking about Sadie reminded me of the women who’d asked for gluten-free treats at the shop last weekend. I’d never asked Sadie if she could make up something special.
I dialed Sadie’s number and got her voice mail. She got up about three to do her baking, and I’d forgotten this was her nap time, when she turned off her phone. “Hi, Sadie, it’s Jill. I wanted to talk to you about some different menu items for the shop. Don’t kill me, but I need something gluten-free. Give me a call when you get this message.”
One thing off my to-do list. I turned a page in the notebook and looked at the week’s schedule. I added Pizza with Greg and beach run to today’s list, crossing off the beach run right after I wrote it. Then I wrote Gluten-Free Menu Items on the page for tomorrow. I wanted to talk to Aunt Jackie about her thoughts on the change, too. She could probably estimate how many items we might sell using one of her business school models. I paused, then wrote on today’s list explore back-to-school options.
If the murder investigation was leading me back around to one of my best friends, then I needed to do something else to occupy my mind. I knew I was missing something, but I kept thinking about that book of recipes now in Sadie’s kitchen with Kacey’s handwritten changes in the margins. I picked up the phone to call Amy, then realized she was still miffed at me.
Finishing the last of my salad, I rinsed the bowl and fork and put it into the dishwasher. Then I powered up my laptop, turned the notebook to a clean page, and started figuring out what I needed to do to go back to school next fall and get a business degree.
I’d made a plan for my first semester, listed off all the steps I needed to complete before I could apply for admission, and ordered materials to be sent to the house. I had a month before the admissions due date and there were many steps to complete, including an essay on why I wanted an MBA degree. Of course, since my bachelor’s had been in political science, I also had several prerequisite classes I had to take just to be provisionally approved.
Worse, there was a placement test. I put a note on my to-do list to order a study guide for the GMAT. I’d ordered several guides for the undergrad test earlier that fall for seniors at the high school, but I didn’t have any for graduate school on hand.
Maybe going back to school wasn’t such a great idea. After passing the bar, I’d sworn I’d never take another test again. But according to the website, the LSAT test that got me into law school wasn’t accepted for the MBA program, so it looked like I’d be sitting at a computer for the next month, getting my student groove back on. Maybe Sasha would help me study.
The knock on the door came at ten minutes after five. I was still in student mode, making choices of what classes I wanted to take which nights. If I went four nights a week, I’d be done in three years, even with the extra classes I needed to boost my business knowledge. How hard could Math for Business Decisions be?
Emma beat me to the door and as I unlocked it, I peeked through the side window to make sure it was Greg. I’d been surprised before by a crazy stalker who thought I held a package from a dead woman. Don’t ask, but now I always kept the doors locked and checked before I opened up, even if I was expecting the South Cove police detective. Greg approved of my new habit, which kind of got me off the hook for all the bad ones he didn’t like so much.
He was leaning against the doorway, holding the screen open with his foot because in his hands were two boxes from Godfather’s. My stomach grumbled as the smell of deep-dish pepperoni and a super garbage supreme pizza hit my nose.
“Come on in. I’m starving.” I held open the door, then relocked it after he entered. A little overkill in my view, but it made Greg feel like I was taking my protection seriously. I’d even started carrying pepper spray when I ran, although whoever would mess with me while Emma was around was just plain stupid.
“What, did you only eat one of Sadie’s cheesecakes for lunch?” He kissed me on the cheek and moved to the kitchen. “Sorry about pizza again, but we really didn’t finish that impromptu dinner and a movie night.”
Following him, I answered, “For your information I had salad for lunch. And I don’t think I had anything for breakfast.” No wonder I was starving, now that I thought about it. I really needed to start eating earlier. Coffee didn’t replace real food, although it made a valiant effort in my book.
He set the pizza boxes on the counter and pointed to the table. “You working on the shop’s books today? I thought your aunt handled most of that.”
I scrambled to close up the notebook and put away the laptop before he went thumbing through the pages and found the Who Killed Kacey page. I knew Greg wasn’t stupid enough to think I wasn’t investigating, but I didn’t want the proof to be so obvious. “I’m going back to school for my MBA. Aunt Jackie thinks I need to know more about how businesses run, seeing as I own one.”
Greg got plates from the counter and set them near the boxes. Then he took two beers out of the fridge and opened them. “You want a glass for your beer?”
“Waste of a glass. I can drink out of the bottle. Besides, I don’t want to run the dishwasher until Friday.” I pointed to the letter on the counter. “I’m already in trouble with the committee for watering my lawn. I don’t want to waste water on cleaning dishes.”
He picked up the letter, read the fine, and laughed. “Seriously? I don’t think you’ve watered the lawn in a year. That’s my job since you tend to forget.”
“I know, right?” I helped myself to a plate. “I’m turning it over to Aunt Jackie tomorrow and she can rein in her attack dog. Besides, I don’t think Josh is upset over the water. I think Harrold’s got him worried that Aunt Jackie’s going to dump him.”
Greg filled his own plate and took it to the table with a couple of paper towels. “I can see why he’d be worried. Harrold would be a perfect match for your aunt. They both like traveling and theater. I don’t know why we didn’t think of introducing them before now.”
“He is more her style.” I took a swig from the bottle, letting the cold beer race down my throat. Setting it down on the table, I smoothed my paper towel over my lap. “I don’t know, I just feel a little sorry for Josh.”
“Don’t tell me you want him to marry your aunt?” He picked up his pizza and folded it in half before taking a bite.
“No. I don’t want he
r to marry anyone.” I picked off a mushroom and ate it. “That sounded really selfish of me, huh?”
“You’re protective. That’s a good thing.” Greg wiped his mouth. “Of course, dragging her to Bakerstown to follow up on a crazy lead isn’t protecting her very well. What were you thinking?”
“I don’t think Austin killed Kacey.” I held up a hand before he could respond. “I know, not my circus, but just because he was hiding out from the law for over forty years doesn’t make him a killer. He sends the woman flowers every week for goodness’ sake.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Now you sound like Amy. Pro-Austin and not able to see anything but the nice guy he portrays here in town.”
“Believe me. I know Austin’s a royal jerk. Look what he did to Sadie. I’d like him thrown in jail for breaking her heart, but I don’t think you’d get away with it with the DA.” I took my first bite of the pizza, wanting to change the subject so I could eat, but not wanting to cut Greg off. He might tell me something about what he discovered the more we talked.
Greg laughed. “I don’t know. John’s ready to go to court on this guy. If I added reckless endangerment of Miss Sadie’s heart, he might just go for the kill. I’ve never seen him so sold on one person, even if all the evidence seems to prove Austin’s innocence.”
I thought about that statement. “Any chance John knows what happened to Sadie?”
“Everyone knows what happened to Sadie. I’m surprised Austin wasn’t run out of town for the crap he pulled. But it’s not illegal to be a jerk.” He finished the slices on his plate and looked at my still full one. “I thought you were hungry?”
“I’m worried about Sadie. Amy isn’t talking to me. And Aunt Jackie asked me to cover her shift Friday night, which means I’ll have to lie to Josh again about where she is instead of at the shop.” I took a bite of the pizza, but it didn’t taste as good as I’d hoped.
“She shouldn’t ask you to lie. Tell her to come clean with Josh.” He stood up and took two more pieces of the pepperoni. “Justin called me on the way back from Bakerstown with a plan to get you and Amy talking again.”
My stomach tightened. “What’s his plan?” I never liked it when the boys interfered in our stuff.
“We’re going out to do that geo-whatever stuff again on Sunday. Justin is getting really involved in the group, and he thinks doing an active double date will let the two of you work out your angst while we hike in the woods looking for hidden treasure.” He took the crust off his pizza and gave it to Emma, who didn’t even seem to chew or taste the buttery bread.
“Wait, what did you say?” I thought about the fortune-teller’s earlier comment. “Did you tell Esmeralda we were going out?”
“I haven’t seen her since I left the building. I told you that Justin called while I was driving back to South Cove. Callers like him are why I love my truck’s Bluetooth. I can’t ever get him to shut up.” He looked at me. “You look a little green, are you sick?”
“No, I’m not sick.” I told him about how Esmeralda had asked if I’d been looking for hidden treasure and told me to be careful. When I finished, Greg shrugged.
“She’s messing with you. I’m sure someone has told her that we’ve been doing this geocaching thing with Amy and Justin. Probably Amy told her.” He took a last bite of the slice on his plate and gave the rest to Emma. “You have to stop letting her play you.”
As I ate my pizza, I thought about his words. The explanation sounded logical, and even Esmeralda had admitted she could piece together bits of information she heard from different sources to figure out what people needed to hear. But for some reason, the hair at the back of my neck was standing up and I had goose pimples on my arms.
“So, are we on for Sunday? Justin wants us to meet at the parking lot at the trailhead. That way if you two are still snippy, we can separate you for the ride home.” Greg finished off his beer.
“I’ll be good if she is.” I picked up the plates and took them to the sink, putting the leftover pizza in one box, keeping two pieces out for my lunch tomorrow. Greg would take the rest to the station, and Toby and Tim would scarf down the leftovers. It was like having kids to feed. Big, hungry kids with size-ten feet.
He put his arms around me and gave me a tight squeeze. “I know you’ll be good. So, do you want to watch a movie? I can’t promise when or if you’ll see me again between now and Sunday.”
“Let me finish cleaning up and I’ll be right in. I’ll even let you choose the movie.” I leaned into his body for a second, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
“You will probably regret those words,” he whispered into my ear.
I nodded. “I already do.”
We stayed like that for a long minute, then he kissed me on the neck and left the room, Emma on his heels. During an investigation, we rarely got couple time except for the No-Guilt-Sunday time he’d implemented last year. And even then, if there was an emergency, all bets were off. Tonight, I wasn’t going to worry about anything but spending time together. I could pry him for information tomorrow when I stopped by the station with a slice of cheesecake or two.
When I entered the living room, he sat in the middle of the couch, Emma on one side and a small portion of the seat cushion for me on the other. I slipped into the space and hit Play on the DVD remote. “So, you never told me why you’re able to have date night in the middle of the week. Is John out of town for some reason?”
“He’s trying to deal with the information you brought to my attention this morning. He says thanks, by the way. He didn’t mean it when he said it, but I know his heart is in the right place.” Greg leaned back into the couch and put his arm around me, pulling me closer.
“What’s he deciding?” I put my ear over his heart and listened to the strong, comforting beat.
He put his hand on my head, stroking my face very gently as if I were a china doll to be protected from crashing and breaking. “Whether to drop the charges on Austin. Apparently John was convinced that Austin did in Mary Jane as well, and now that we found her, he’s in the clear, so the ‘kill one, kill them all’ motive doesn’t really apply.”
We both left the other question hang in the air without an answer. If Austin didn’t kill Kacey, who did?
CHAPTER 15
I hadn’t slept well, my dreams filled with wandering kittens that kept getting into harm’s way. When I woke early, I dressed in my running clothes and took Emma out for a quick run hoping to clear my head of the stress dreams. I still opened the shop early.
After the morning commuter customers left, I dialed Aunt Jackie’s number. Three rings and she answered. “What? Is there a problem in the shop?”
“No, there’s a problem with Josh.” I could hear her favorite morning show in the background.
The sigh was long and loud. “What’s he done now?”
“Come down to the shop and I’ll show you. You really have got to get a handle on him.” I clicked off and waited for her to make her way downstairs.
I read another chapter in the mystery I’d been nursing along not wanting the story to end, when I heard the door close in the office. She pushed through the doors, still dressed in her lounging clothes, a silk robe, silk pajama top and long pants, and her fuzzy slippers. With her hair wrapped up with a matching turban, she looked like a gently aged Lucille Ball, but with more makeup. She might not have gotten dressed to talk to me, but she had put on the full face treatment. Foundation, eye shadow, liner, mascara, and lipstick. She poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter sipping it. “So, what’s so important?”
I pushed the letter toward her. “I got this on my door last night. Did you guys talk about me during your meeting?”
She pulled her reading glasses up off the chain where they hung around her neck and read the citation. “He didn’t have the authority of the commission for this. I mean, we talked about someone who appeared to be watering his or her lawn, but I never got the impression it was you. You hate garden
ing.”
“I know. And it wasn’t me. My lawn is as dry as everyone else’s. I think your committee needs to get their facts straight before they go off issuing citations.” I grabbed the paper back from her and started waving it. “This is America. I have rights. What about innocent until proven guilty? Let Josh prove I water my lawn. Does he have pictures?”
She gently took the citation from my hand. “Calm down, dear. I told you it wasn’t the committee. I’ll handle this and Josh. You just relax.”
“Okay, so that was over the top. I just hate being accused of things I didn’t do. Especially since we both know this is about your date on Friday.” I studied her. “You will tell him about you and Harrold, right?”
“Now, don’t go all crazy on me. Telling him to back off you is one thing, but hurting his feelings by telling him about Harrold and me is quite different.” My aunt tucked the letter into her robe jacket and took off her glasses. She sipped on her coffee.
“You know he did this because he suspects something is going on. He’s vindictive.” I almost said a “little vindictive,” but nothing about Josh was little, unless you counted his emotional stability.
“You’re probably right. I’m just not ready to talk about Harrold with Josh yet. I’ve been fair both ways, I don’t talk about Josh to Harrold, either. I’m sure Harrold doesn’t even care that I ever dated Josh.” She pushed a wayward curl off her face and back behind her ear. “If Josh comes over Friday night, tell him I’ve gone out. That’s all. No details, no with whom, not even a guess about what movie or theater. The man needs to learn to respect my privacy.” And with that declaration, my aunt spun around on her fuzzy slipper and left. I’m sure it would have been a more satisfying exit if she’d had on shoes that actually allowed me to hear her stomp away.
With that problem solved—sort of—I returned to the Kacey page of my notebook. I knew I was missing something. I put a line through Austin and Sadie’s names, but Austin’s cross-out was much lighter than my friend’s. As soon as I finished, the bell rang over the door and Sadie walked in the shop. If I’d believed in signs, this was a clear one that I was on the right track. Maybe Sadie’s memories hid a clue even she didn’t realize she knew.
