A Caffeine Conundrum

by Angela Ruth Strong

  Should it bother Marissa that the other woman was okay with breaking the rules? It definitely bothered her that Tandy was so quick to punch if she felt someone deserved it. Things could go from bad to worse that way. Maybe Marissa’s assessment of how nothing good came from Cincinnati had been accurate after all. Even the stitching on the white trim to Tandy’s hat read “Naughty” as if she belonged on Santa’s naughty list. Marissa’s hat must appropriately declare her “Nice.”

  She followed the crowd down a side hallway, stopping at the first door on their left. The giant elf resembling the choir director from her church knocked, and once the door swung open, the people around her burst into a lively rendition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” She and Tandy would have to join in until they reached the cafeteria.

  Marissa sang along, looking from face to face. Vanessa. Marie. Opal, the old lady who loved organ music. This was her church choir, and they had no idea a murder had been committed in their little town. If they’d known, they might prefer to sing Elvis’s “Blue Christmas.” Instead, they chorused together about how the other reindeer called Rudolph names.

  “Like Bozo!” she soloed.

  A familiar hand with black fingernail polish hooked her bicep and tugged. “Come on, Bozo.”

  Tandy was a pushy little thing, wasn’t she? Marissa emerged from the group then untangled herself from the other woman’s grip. “Don’t call me Bozo.”

  “You’re the one putting on a show.”

  Opal sent her a scowl before returning to her song book.

  Marissa lowered her voice. “I’m singing along because we don’t know where we’re going.”

  Tandy pointed past her. Marissa followed the direction with her eyes. A map hung on the wall. It had a red “You are Here” circle on one side of the outline and a large rectangle on the other side printed with the word “Cafeteria.”

  “Oh.”

  Yet another scowl.

  “I mean ho. Ho-ho-ho.” Marissa held her belly like a bowl full of jelly.

  “Come on.” Tandy took off. Figured. “At least the cafeteria will be a public place for confronting Cross.”

  Tingles shot from Marissa’s heart. Maybe she didn’t want to do this after all. But what was her alternative? Letting Tandy hand over Grandmother’s diary to the authorities? She dug her fingernails into her palms and jogged to catch up.

  The spicy scent of fried chicken grew stronger as they followed the Berber carpeting down navy blue hallways trimmed in white molding. Wreaths decorated with shiny blue and silver balls hung on each door they passed. Finally, they arrived at the entrance to a cafeteria that doubled as a giant sunroom with a roof and walls made entirely of glass. Linen-covered tables dotted the room, giving patrons a beautiful view of the lazy river outside.

  Tandy unzipped her jacket, lowered Cocoa to the floor, and hooked his leash over the pole that held a sign with the day’s menu. It wouldn’t be sanitary to let a dog who liked to lick things into an eating establishment. “What’s Cross look like?” she asked.

  Marissa scanned the residents seated at tables. “Last time I saw him, he had a full head of white hair and a trim beard.”

  Tandy patted Cocoa on the head and stood. “So he looks like Santa?”

  Marissa pictured Mr. Cross in her mind. “Honestly, he looks really good for being in his eighties. He doesn’t wear glasses, and he has leathery skin from the sun. Maybe he’s a GQ Santa. But more like Sean Connery without the accent.”

  “Good.” Tandy pulled off her “Naughty” hat. “Because it’s hard to picture Santa killing someone. Sean Connery, on the other hand…”

  “He had a license to kill.”

  Tandy tilted her head, chin puckering in thought. “I think Timothy Dalton was in that movie.”

  Beside the point. “Both played James Bond.”

  “Marissa Alexander?” The deep voice interrupting their conversation came from the table on their right. The man in question stood and circled toward them in his pressed burgundy shirt with a popped collar that somehow made him look sophisticated rather than slimy. He wrapped Marissa in a side hug. “Sorry about the Miss Ohio pageant, my dear, but you recovered well.”

  Marissa snorted. They hadn’t proved the man a murderer yet, but he was definitely a liar. Probably what made him so good at rigging beauty contests.

  He let go to extend his hand toward Tandy. “Cross.” Pause. “Joseph Cross,” he introduced himself as if he was employed by British Secret Service.

  Tandy shook hands with Mr. Cross but raised her eyebrows at Marissa in an expression of disbelief. Had he overheard their conversation or was he used to being compared to the agent for M16?

  “I’m Tandy Brandt. I…um…came with Marissa to bring you some cake from Billie at Grandma’s Attic.”

  Good cover.

  “I love Billie’s apple cake.” Mr. Cross smiled, glancing at their empty hands.

  Good cover except for the fact that they didn’t have the cake with them anymore.

  “The guy at the front desk—”

  Mr. Cross held up a hand. “Say no more. I’ll make sure to retrieve it from Kent. For now, you can join me for dessert.” He motioned them to pass him and sit down at his table.

  He sure didn’t act like someone guilty of murder. Maybe he had no conscience, thus no guilt. Marissa had met a few people like that during her pageantry days.

  She sat, shooting a quick glance at Tandy to read her expression. Tandy seemed as aloof as usual. At least she wasn’t punching people.

  Mr. Cross introduced them to the ladies at his table like visiting royalty, as if she’d really won the crown for Miss Ohio. This would have made her angrier at him if he wasn’t so darn likable.

  A waitress arrived then, reciting the dessert menu. The other residents at the table all rose with the excuse of a Christmas cookie exchange. They giggled when saying goodbye to Mr. Cross like teenagers with crushes in a school lunch room. Apparently, he was the retirement home equivalent of the football quarterback.

  Marissa watched them leave with envy, wishing she could get out of dessert as well. Usually she was too preoccupied with counting calories to eat sugar, but she needed a reason to stick around. “Crème brûlée.”

  Tandy waved away the options. “I already had a slice of cake, so I’ll just take a cappuccino if you serve them. I haven’t had a good cup of coffee all day.”

  “Yes, ma’am, we do.”

  Ugh. Why hadn’t Marissa thought of that? “And a tea. I’ll take a green tea. Caffeine free please.” The caffeine could make her more nervous, and she was already feeling shaky sitting next to the man who could have killed Virginia…and her grandmother.

  The waitress left with their orders, and Mr. Cross gave them his full attention, propping one ankle over a knee and resting an arm on the back of Marissa’s chair.

  She scooted closer to Tandy so his hand didn’t touch her. The hug had been more than enough.

  His chestnut eyes lost their shimmer. “To what do I truly owe this honor? Why didn’t Billie bring me the cake herself?”

  Oh no. Where did she start? As she spoke, would he be planning her death? She pressed a palm over her pounding heart in hopes it might quiet the noise in her ears. “Do you remember my grandmother?” Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

  “Yes. I saw you at her funeral.”

  Tandy pinched Marissa’s side. She elbowed Tandy’s arm away. She was doing her best. Though maybe she should leave this job to Little Lukey after all. “Right. You’ve known her longer than I have. Which is why I thought you might have some stories you could tell me about her that I don’t already know.”

  His gaze didn’t move, but his chest rose and lowered.

  She reached for Tandy’s arm that she’d earlier elbowed away. She needed support. Tandy’s warm fingers clasped hers. This city girl wasn’t all bad. Though if it was true that the good died young, then Tandy was safe while Marissa was still conspicuously wearing the “Nice” Santa hat.

&
nbsp; The hard glint in Mr. Cross’s eyes faded. “Are you talking about how I rigged the Miss Ohio pageant?”

  Tandy’s grip tightened, and Marissa prepared herself to be yanked down another hall by the other woman. She wouldn’t complain this time. Because with her body frozen in fear, it was the only way she’d be able to escape.

  Tandy tensed to run. If Cross had killed Virginia for knowing his secret, was he also going to kill the two of them after this confession?

  If so, she might as well see how much information she could get out of him first. “You rigged the contest to make sure Marissa’s grandmother would win?”

  Mr. Cross leaned back in his chair and looked out one of the many windows. He appeared more contemplative than dangerous. “Regrettably, yes. I was young and ambitious. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I justified my actions by telling myself Ettabell would be the best queen.”

  Tandy shook her head. If he could justify cheating, then could he also justify murder?

  He rolled his lips together like the words struggled to get out after all this time. “I kept it a secret for years, but it slipped to Ettabell at a dinner party after I’d had a few too many drinks.”

  Would a slip like that really ruin a career as a politician? Was the threat of discovery bad enough that he would have been willing to pay blackmail or commit murder? It was only a stupid beauty pageant.

  “Ettabell slapped me as she should have. Shocked me sober. She wanted to come clean with it right away…” His voice faded like he was being drawn back in time with his memories.

  Marissa had gone just as still. Numb maybe. Hopefully she’d snap back to life if they had to run. Because Tandy would also have to rescue Cocoa.

  Tandy curled her fingers around the cell phone in her pocket with her free hand, ready to call the deputy if needed. “You didn’t want the truth to come out, did you?”

  The foot on Cross’s knee dropped to the floor. His arm on Marissa’s chair took its place on his thigh as he curled forward and into himself, head bowed. “I asked her to wait until I sold my riverboat company because I knew there would be bad press, and I didn’t want my mistake to sink the town, so to speak. I think she agreed because she felt like it was a fitting punishment.”

  Tandy narrowed her eyes. If he’d been preparing for the news to break, then he wouldn’t have needed to pay a blackmailer. There was only one way to find out. “Did you sell your business before Marissa’s grandmother passed?”

  Marissa’s hand trembled in her grip as they waited for the answer.

  Cross looked up, dark eyes wry in self-deprecation. “I did. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  Marissa slid her hand away to wave emphatically. “Ironic isn’t the word I’d use.”

  Oh boy. Should Tandy try to restrain the princess’s passion or wait and see how Cross reacted? She’d remain in her seat for a moment.

  Wrinkles lined Cross’s distinguished brow, his confusion ruling him innocent in Tandy’s mind. “What word would you use?” he asked. He wasn’t Santa Claus, or even Sean Connery. He had the appearance of being wise like a Roman emperor and in need of a laurel wreath around his head. Though it was more likely Marissa would smash a Christmas wreath in its place.

  She shot to her feet, and flashed her straight, white teeth when enunciating slowly. “I’d use the word convenient.”

  Tandy rubbed at a sudden throb in her temples.

  Cross tilted his head. “You mean the opposite of convenient, don’t you? If I’d known your grandmother was going to take our secret to the grave, then I wouldn’t have had to sell the business at all.”

  Marissa leaned forward to get in his face since he was still sitting down. “You did know she’d take it to the grave since you put her there.”

  Cross sat in silence. The Christmas music playing in the background grew louder. The waitress arrived with their orders, her friendly smile faltering.

  Tandy tugged Marissa down, took her tea from the server, and slid it across the table. “Here, drink this.” Tea was supposed to be soothing, right? Maybe that’s why Marissa preferred it. If Marissa drank coffee, the caffeine might rile her up enough to accuse all the patrons in the cafeteria of being in on the imaginary crime against her grandmother.

  Marissa shoved the cup away, causing her tea to slosh. “I’m not drinking my tea until Mr. Cross confesses to selling his company to pay Virginia’s blackmail.”

  Cross sat back and scratched his head. “Honey, I don’t know what blackmail you’re talking about. I can’t be sure I heard you correctly a moment ago either. If you think I killed your grandmother to keep from having to sell my river tour company, then you can check the dates on the sale.”

  Marissa crossed her arms. “Then where’s all your money? Why do you live here?”

  Cross turned from them to study the room, and with the way his jaw twitched underneath his ear, it looked like he was using the time to calm himself. He wasn’t thinking up a lie, was he?

  He slowly faced them again, his stare gouging her conscience with its sharpness. “I built this place.”

  Marissa wilted like a poinsettia in January.

  Tandy studied the man. Was he telling the truth? That would be easy enough to check out. As were his whereabouts at the time of the murder. “Have you been here all day?”

  “Here? Yeah.” Cross shrugged. “I played snowshoe golf this morning, but that was on the premises. You can ask our events coordinator.”

  Tandy heaved a heavy sigh. They’d both wanted Cross to be guilty. Then he could be locked behind bars and the two of them could go home safely and sleep soundly that night. Instead, he was simply a man who’d made a mistake in his past that shook Marissa’s current world. Tandy would still be a suspect in Virginia’s murder, and somewhere out there, the real killer wasn’t even a blip on their radar.

  “I’ll double check your story, Cross.” Tandy eased away from the awkwardness. “But I do apologize for making assumptions. We are only trying to help the police figure out who killed Virginia Pierce.”

  Cross’s eyes bulged. “Virginia Pierce is dead?”

  Marissa shot Tandy a skeptical look as if she still wanted to believe Cross to be the bad guy.

  Tandy pointed at the tea. She needed to keep Marissa’s mouth too busy to talk.

  Marissa picked up the cup, though her expression remained rebellious.

  “Yes, sir,” Tandy answered. “She died this morning, and the police suspect foul play. We know she was taking pictures of pages in Marissa’s grandmother’s diary, and we thought she might have been blackmailing you.”

  Cross ran a hand through his hair. “That’s why I saw Virginia’s sister crying earlier.”

  Tandy slid her eyes toward Marissa to check if the other woman knew about Virginia’s sister, and if their relationship had any significance. She seemed to know everybody in this tiny town, but she didn’t even flinch at this knowledge. Just continued to stare Cross down.

  Cross shook his head, defending himself. “Virginia wasn’t blackmailing anyone. She wanted to use me to rig the downtown holiday decorating contest in her favor.”

  Marissa rolled her eyes. The girl couldn’t hide her thoughts, though Tandy was thinking the same thing. How would Virginia have won since her place was hardly decorated?

  “I told her no, of course, but…” His eyes scanned the panes of glass overhead

  Tandy looked up also to see what he saw. Silver snowflakes similar to the ones dangling in Virginia’s shop.

  Marissa set her cup down with a clank. “But what?”

  Cross’s gaze lowered though the blank expression masked his thoughts. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was some foul play involved.”

  Marissa inhaled sharply. “Why?” The girl was as subtle as an ice scraper. Tandy should have left her in the car, as well.

  Cross grimaced. Was he truly reluctant to tell them info that would keep them off his tail? “It may be nothing, but while I was at her shop, I overhead an argument on t
he phone. It sounded like it was over some rare piece of art or artifact she’d acquired. She wasn’t willing to work out a deal.”

  Of all the reasons to kill someone, Virginia was killed for stuff? Couldn’t the bad guy simply steal the item? Though if he did, she’d probably know who he was and report him to the police.

  Marissa leaned forward. “Who was it?”

  Cross lifted a shoulder. “Maybe check her phone records or question local art collectors?”

  That didn’t do them much good. Anybody could have wanted anything from Virginia. They were back at the beginning of this whole mess. At least Marissa didn’t have to worry anymore about her grandmother’s diary being evidence, though Tandy would have preferred that scenario.

  Marissa stood to her feet. “I know who it was.”

  Chapter Seven

  Marissa held her palms to her cheeks. It was shocking how much sense her realization made. “Randon Evans killed Virginia.”

  Tandy remained in her seat, unfazed by the bombshell. “As I’m new to town and haven’t met anyone before today, you’re going to have to give me a little more information than a name.”

  Oh. No wonder she didn’t get it. Though Marissa had thought the man was known worldwide. “Randon is the famous app designer. He’s become a millionaire off his apps while working at home in his pajamas.”

  Tandy shook her head.

  “Excuse me, girls.” Mr. Cross stood. “I’m going to go call Billie and see how she’s doing.” He took a few steps before pausing and stroking his beard. “Don’t you think you’d be better off leaving the detective work to actual detectives?”

  Tandy still didn’t rise. Only deadpanned, “Not if they’re investigating us.”

  “Ah. I see.” He continued on past. “In that case, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good alibi.”

  Tandy watched him leave. “I’ll double check the date when Cross sold his company, but I really don’t think he’s guilty. Why do you think this Randon guy did it?”