by Gayle Leeson
“Yeah. Whatever. Just mind your own business, all right?”
“I—”
Madelyn ended the call.
“I will,” I finished lamely.
• • •
I thought the matter with Madelyn was over until I saw her walk into the café about an hour and a half after we’d spoken. She looked as if she’d been crying.
I hurried over. “Madelyn, are you all right?”
“No. Is that offer for a free lunch still good?”
“Of course it is. I’ll get you a menu.” I got her a menu and a glass of water. “Just look this over and order whatever you want. I’ll make sure Jackie knows there’s no charge.”
“Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“About Brendan,” she said.
“No. If you’re willing to take a chance on being friends with me again, I’m not going to ruin it by putting my nose where it doesn’t belong,” I said.
She smiled slightly. “As much as I appreciate that sentiment . . .” She nodded to the chair across from her. “Can you sit a minute?”
“Sure.” We weren’t terribly busy at the moment and I gave Jackie a tiny wave, letting her know to come and get me if she needed me. I sat down opposite Madelyn.
“Brendan wasn’t at school this past month. I’d thought he was because he was on academic probation, and I believed he was taking summer classes to get straightened out.”
“But he decided to take the summer off?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s decided to take forever off apparently. He says he’s not going back to school. He’s been staying with Joey all this time so Mom wouldn’t know.”
“So Douglas knew but your mom didn’t? That doesn’t seem right—Douglas keeping secrets that big from her.”
“Tell me about it. But I told you Brendan and Douglas are tight. They tell each other everything.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I can understand them not wanting to worry Mom. And maybe Douglas hoped he could change Brendan’s mind or else help him come up with a plan for his future before talking with Mom about it.”
“What about your dad? Did Brendan spend any time with him while he was here?”
“He says he didn’t.”
“That’s odd,” I said. “Winter Garden is such a small town. You typically can’t get away from anyone. It seems to me that whenever I go to the grocery store, half of Winter Garden is there no matter what time it is.”
She nodded. “He was so evasive about having talked with Dad that I’m guessing he’s bound to have run into him somewhere. Or maybe he just flat out went to see him. But if he did, the encounter did nothing to ease their relationship.”
“I’m sorry. Although I doubt Brendan would admit it, I believe that fact makes Stu’s death even harder for him.”
“I think you’re right, Amy. I just wish I could get him away from Joey. Joey is a bad influence. He always has been. Even though Brendan is the older one, and you’d think it would be the other way around, Brendan is so easily swayed by Joey.”
“Have you thought any more about what you’re going to do?” I asked. “You mentioned when you first arrived in Winter Garden that you were considering keeping your dad’s house and maintaining his hives.”
She smirked. “I’m sure you realize from seeing me with Mr. Dougherty the other day that there’s a possibility of a natural gas reserve being below the property that encompasses Dad’s land, Joey’s parents’ land, and the Thomas land. I guess whatever I decide will depend on what Mr. Dougherty’s company finds.”
“That’s exciting.”
“Maybe. I’ve never been one to count my chickens before they hatch, though. They’ll have to show me solid proof of a natural gas reserve before I sign any paperwork with Ives Oil and Gas.”
Chapter 20
Not long after Madelyn left, Mr. Dougherty came in for lunch. He asked Shelly to let me know he was there, and she came into the kitchen and got me. She took over my lettuce shredding, so I could talk with our customer.
I went into the dining room and spotted Mr. Dougherty sitting at a table to the right of the door.
“Hi there,” I said. “Shelly told me you wanted to talk with me.”
“Yeah. I thought I’d let you know that I’ll be leaving Winter Garden later today. But I’ll certainly stop back in at the Down South Café whenever I’m passing through.”
“So where are you off to?”
“Kentucky. The lawmakers here won out, so I’m taking my testing materials a few hours up the road.” He bobbed his head. “Got the call this morning.”
“I’m sorry you’ll be leaving us. I’ll make you up a package of cookies for the road.”
He grinned. “I’d appreciate that.”
I was getting ready to ask what assortment he’d like when Chad Thomas burst through the door. I took a step back as he stormed over to the table.
“Fern told me you’re leaving town. I demand an explanation, and I want it now!”
Mr. Dougherty stood and also took a step away from Mr. Thomas. He held up his hands. “The local lawmakers have pulled the plug on Ives Oil and Gas continuing our research in this area.”
“That’s a load of crap, and you know it!”
“It’s not,” said Mr. Dougherty. “If you don’t believe me, call your mayor and ask him.”
Mr. Thomas turned the table over, breaking the glass and spilling the water Shelly had already given Mr. Dougherty.
I turned and shot a look at Shelly.
She nodded, phone in hand. “I’m calling the police!”
Mr. Thomas advanced toward Mr. Dougherty, and poor Mr. Dougherty backed up until he hit the wall.
I didn’t know what to do. Did I step in and risk being hurt myself? Or did I let Mr. Dougherty fend for himself?
Luckily, I didn’t have to wonder for long. Ryan strode through the door, assessed the situation, and stepped between the two men. He raised his arms, making the men keep their distance from each other. I didn’t think that was a problem for Mr. Dougherty, but Mr. Thomas looked as if he was considering taking them both on.
“What’s going on here?” Ryan asked.
“That smarmy snake oil salesman came around here promising us the moon, and now he’s taking off on us!” Mr. Thomas shouted. “He’s leaving us with nothing!”
“I’ve been reassigned,” Mr. Dougherty explained to Ryan. “I didn’t take anything from these people, and it isn’t my fault that your local lawmakers don’t want Ives Oil and Gas researching possible natural gas reserves in the area.”
“You heard the man,” Ryan said to Mr. Thomas. “I think you need to apologize and take your lunch order somewhere else for today before this—”
Mr. Thomas threw a punch at Ryan. Ryan ducked it. Then he wove around behind Mr. Thomas and pulled one arm behind Mr. Thomas’s back. The big man wasn’t going to be that easy to take down, though. He whirled and spun out of Ryan’s grasp.
Mr. Dougherty stepped in and grabbed Mr. Thomas’s right arm as Ryan grabbed the left and pivoted behind Mr. Thomas and managed to secure both the man’s wrists in handcuffs.
Ryan nodded a thank-you to Mr. Dougherty and began reciting Mr. Thomas’s rights as he walked him out of the café.
“This ain’t over!” Mr. Thomas yelled.
“Don’t make me Taser you.” Ryan walked him to his squad car, opened the back door, and ushered him inside.
“Wow.” I realized I was trembling as I moved away from the window, so I sank into a chair.
“That was intense,” said Mr. Dougherty, sitting in the chair beside the one I sat on.
“It was.”
Shelly brought me a glass of water and put her hand on my shoulder. “Do you need me to drive you home?”
I shook my head. “No. I appreci
ate your concern, but I’ll be fine. It was Mr. Dougherty and Deputy Hall who were in the thick of things.” I passed my water glass to Mr. Dougherty. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I’ve just never had anybody get that worked up on me before. I mean, I realized the man had a quick temper, but I didn’t know it was that bad.” He drank the water. “And there wasn’t any sort of guarantee that he had a reserve on his property. We were simply going to do more testing to see.”
Shelly scurried back to the kitchen and got a glass of water for me. I gratefully accepted it. It was sweet that she’d thought of me over our customer. I understood that she was as shaken as the rest of us and encouraged her to have a seat. Fortunately, there were no other customers in the café at the time.
Luis came from the back and asked what was going on. In bits and pieces, each of us related what he missed, as he picked up the overturned table. Then he went back to the closet for the broom and dustpan to clean up the glass.
“I’m really sorry you had to go through this,” I told Mr. Dougherty. “Whatever you want for lunch is on the house.”
“I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t your fault that Mr. Thomas came barging in here like a maniac. In fact, I was glad when I called the Thomas house this morning and got Fern. I knew she’d be the more reasonable of the two,” he said. “I hated breaking the news to any of the Ives prospects, but I didn’t want to simply disappear on them, making them wonder what had happened. Some people in my business do that, but I think it’s unfair.”
“Madelyn Carver was in earlier, and she didn’t seem to know anything about your leaving,” I said.
“I didn’t have Ms. Carver’s cell number, so I called Joey’s mother. She seemed fine with it and said she’d pass the information along.” He raised his brows. “Based on Mr. Thomas’s reaction, I hope to be out of town before Brendan and Joey find out. I’ve pretty much lost my appetite, but I’ll take those cookies if the offer still stands.”
I assured him it did, and we walked over to the counter so Mr. Dougherty could select his cookies. After making sure he was okay to drive, I wished him safe travels, and he quickly left.
• • •
After Ryan got Chad Thomas squared away at the jail, he returned to the café.
Even though there were a few customers in the dining room when he came through the door, I came out from behind the counter and gave him a quick hug. “I don’t know how you got here so quickly, but I’m so glad you did.”
He grinned. “I was just coming for lunch. Talk about being in the right place at the right time.”
“I’ll say. I imagine you’re really ready for that lunch now.”
“I am. I’ll have a hot dog and potato wedges, please.”
“All right. And for dessert, how about a warm fudge brownie à la mode?” I asked.
“Well, if you’d make it, I certainly wouldn’t let it go to waste.”
I went into the kitchen and began making Ryan’s lunch. When Shelly brought up another order, I quietly asked her not to accept payment for Ryan’s meal.
“I don’t know what Chad Thomas might’ve done had he not been here,” I said.
“Oh, hon, I agree a hundred percent. That was downright scary.”
Luis was at the sink washing dishes. “I’d have saved us all.”
“We know,” I said. “But still . . .”
“Yeah,” Shelly agreed with a wink. “Still.”
By the time Ryan had finished his lunch, it was just about closing time.
“Why don’t you go ahead and take off?” Shelly suggested. “Luis and I can handle cleanup today.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She lowered her voice. “Go snuggle with that handsome man for a few minutes before he has to go back to fighting crime and saving lives and all that good stuff.”
I laughed. “All right. If you need me to come back, all you have to do is call.”
“Go.”
“Shelly’s running me off,” I said to Ryan. “Can you come over to my house for a little while?”
“As a matter of fact, I can. Sheriff Billings said that since I’d worked through lunch, I could take the rest of the day.”
“Then I’d almost say that altercation with Chad Thomas was worth it.” I reconsidered. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to go home, change out of this uniform, and get cleaned up before coming back to your place.”
“I don’t mind in the least.” It would give me a chance to do the same.
• • •
It was a mild day, so when Ryan returned, we sat on the front porch and chatted while drinking lemonade.
“How much time will Mr. Thomas have to serve for the stunt he pulled at the café today?” I asked.
“Not any. He was awaiting bail when I left. He’ll pay a fine and maybe get probation.”
“I guess that’s okay. He didn’t do any real damage. But I’m afraid to imagine what he might’ve done had you not got there when you did.”
Ryan raised my hand to his lips. “I’m glad I did.” He kissed my hand and then lowered it again. “The entire way to the police station, Thomas raved about having been cheated. He said Dougherty was nothing more than a two-bit swindler. I finally asked him what he’d lost. You know what he said?”
I shook my head.
“He said, ‘Millions of dollars.’ I said, ‘You didn’t lose millions of dollars—you never had it.’”
“I can guess how well that went over.”
Ryan laughed. “Oh, yeah. He raged even more that Dougherty had cheated him out of his fortune, as well as his future children’s fortune.”
“Hmm. Roger told us that the Thomas brothers had terrible tempers. One of them certainly proved him right today.”
“Did Thomas do any damage to the café?”
“No. The table was fine. Luis cleaned up the broken glass and then mopped up the water.”
“He’s a good kid.”
“He is.” I smiled. “He told Shelly and me that he’d have saved us all if you hadn’t shown up.”
“I have no doubt he would have . . . despite the fact that he was nowhere to be found when all the drama was going down.”
I laughed and squeezed Ryan’s hand. We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching a blue jay flit from pine tree to pine tree.
There was no trace of my frivolity left when I said, “It’s beginning to look like Stu Landon Carver’s killer is going to get away with his—or her—crime. Walter Jackson has left town, and there aren’t any new leads.”
“You’re forgetting about the knife. We’re hoping Ivy can get some DNA off that.”
“What do you think the killer’s motive was for burning the barn—and for burning it the night of Stu’s wake?”
“The motive was fairly obvious—to destroy any evidence that might still be discovered. It was just pure dumb luck that we found the knife. It was well hidden, and I imagine the killer thought it had been ruined, at least as far as evidence gathering was concerned. As for the timing . . . the killer might’ve run a bigger risk of getting caught if he’d burned the barn on the night he murdered Stu.” Ryan leaned forward and began talking more like a lawyer than a police officer. “We’ve already determined that it was a busy night for our perpetrator. He—or she, as you’ve pointed out—murdered Stu Landon Carver in the barn at Old Cedar Cove, leaving behind what we believe to be the murder weapon. Then he and, likely, an accomplice put Carver’s body into his own truck and drove it to the Down South Café parking lot.”
“Or since we believe there to be an accomplice, they could’ve taken the body in their vehicle and then transferred Stu to the truck when they arrived at the café.”
“Fair enough. But then the killer had to make a getaway, clean up whatever vehicle he’d arrived in
because he was bound to have been covered in blood, ditch his clothing and clean himself up, and get back safely to wherever an alibi awaited. Who has time to burn a barn when you’ve got all that going on?”
“True. But why burn the barn on the night of Stu’s wake specifically?” I asked. “Do you think it was some sort of sick revenge thing?”
“No. I believe it was the best possible time for the killer to burn the barn. There were only two people who had any legitimate reason to be around that old run-down barn—Stuart Landon Carver and Chad Thomas. And Thomas only mows the pastureland twice a year, three at the most. With Carver dead, there was a remote possibility someone would come to check the hives.”
“And with just about all of Stu’s friends and family at the wake, the murderer knew he—or she—wasn’t likely to be disturbed. That makes sense. But what if someone had checked the hives prior to the barn being destroyed?”
“I’m guessing our perp was just hoping that if anyone did, they wouldn’t venture into the barn,” Ryan said.
“But what about the Down South Café? Why leave poor Stu in his truck there? Why not the grocery store or a gas station?”
“I’m not entirely certain, but my bet would be on our killer wanting Carver to be found as soon as possible. This person might’ve known that you were selling Carver’s honey on consignment, so you’d know who he was, and thought he’d be discovered more quickly at the café than at some other location.”
“Maybe. I mean, I suppose people at the grocery store or gas station might simply pass him by thinking an old man was napping in his truck. But don’t most murderers want to hide their victims?”
“Not if the victim had something the killer wanted. If Carver wasn’t found, he wouldn’t be declared dead, and his estate wouldn’t be handed over to his survivors.”
I gasped. “The natural gas reserve! Whoever killed Stu believed there was gas on that land. And now that the lawmakers have shut down the Ives Oil and Gas prospecting, his death was completely pointless.”
Chapter 21
When Homer came in for breakfast on Tuesday morning, he told me his hero was Robert Wyatt. I’d never heard of the man.
