Wags to Riches

by Ally Roberts

  I couldn’t imagine Simcoe dicing and chopping, cooking and sautéing, but I just nodded.

  “Carmen was supposed to be here to cover the front end.” Jonah scowled. “She wasn’t. So I had to run a cooking class and manage the restaurant at the same time. It was a mess. She showed up right as the class was ending and we got into a huge fight. I let her go then and there.”

  If he’d asked me, I would have told him he should have made that move weeks ago. “You said this happened last week?”

  He picked up his soda. “Friday. She marched out of the kitchen and I haven’t seen her since.”

  “And when was the money stolen?”

  “No idea. I noticed it was gone two days later.”

  I thought for a minute. “Are you suggesting Carmen might have taken it?” I finally said.

  “Yes,” he said bluntly. “She knew I kept it in my office. Maybe not exactly where, but she knew it was there.”

  I was quiet, mulling over everything Jonah had just told me.

  “And she also has a key,” he added.

  “What?”

  “A key,” he repeated. “When she quit, I didn’t get the keys back from her. To the restaurant or to my office.”

  SEVEN

  Carmen liked cupcakes.

  At least, that’s what Jonah told me.

  Which was why I left The Perfect Catch and headed over to Sweetwater’s downtown and The Cupcakery. It was Two-Dollar Tuesday, and Jonah had said that Carmen was religious in her routine of stopping in for a cupcake and a coffee on Tuesday afternoons. It was the one thing she’d asked him to work around in her own work schedule, which he had done.

  I pulled open the door to the shop and breathed in the sweet smell of baked goods and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The pink and white store was bustling with customers but most were waiting in line, ordering cupcakes to go. Only about half of the tables were occupied, and three had single women sitting at them. All three had a cupcake and a coffee, and all three were scrolling through their phones. Any one of them could have been the woman I was looking for. Or none at all.

  I got in line to order a cupcake. I’d never gotten my chowder from the restaurant and my stomach was gurgling. I figured I could use the four dollars I’d planned to spend on a bowl of soup and apply it to a cupcake and coffee instead. Besides, it was a working expense, wasn’t it? Jonah had hired me to figure out what had happened to his missing money.

  I needed to use the term “hired” lightly. He’d asked me to look into the theft, and he’d promised to pay me if I found it. But, I realized as I slowly shuffled forward in the line, we’d never talked about what my fee might be.

  I had no idea what to charge him. Actually, I didn’t feel comfortable charging him at all. But I hadn’t exactly turned down his offer, either.

  I sighed. I needed to improve my business skills if there was any hope of me being successfully self-employed. This situation was obviously much different than wrangling clients for my dog walking business, but still…if I couldn’t communicate fees or pin down other necessary details or bits of information now, how was I going to do it in the future?

  “Wendy!” Ginny Potter had just left the counter, a white bakery bag in her hand. “How are you?”

  I smiled. Ginny Potter had been Caroline Ford’s business partner, and one of the people I’d initially considered might be responsible for Caroline’s death. Although her name had eventually been cleared in connection to the crime, I did learn that Ginny had some dark secrets of her own, including some substantial debt related to sports gambling. It had come as a surprise because Ginny defied the stereotypes that existed in my mind when I conjured up images of bookies and gamblers. She was almost as old as my mom, with a smart blond bob that was leaning heavily to gray. She was always ready with a smile, and a quilter to boot. Who would have thought she’d led a double life, gambling herself into thousands of dollars worth of debt over basketball games and horse races?

  “I’m good,” I said. “How are you doing?”

  It was crazy to me that, despite the intimate setting of Sweetwater Island and the town’s small population, weeks could go by without seeing people. Ginny was one of those people. I’d seen her once at the local grocery store since solving Caroline’s murder, but beyond that, our paths hadn’t crossed. And, due to a job that literally required me to walk a few miles each day, this always struck me as a bit odd.

  She smiled brightly. “I’m just peachy.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear.” It was also surprising to hear, given her circumstances. Not only had her gambling debts caught up to her, but she’d lost her job with Caroline’s quilting company when she decided to dissolve the business.

  “Yep.” She leaned close to my ear, and I got a whiff of her citrus-scented perfume. “I started attending Gamblers Anonymous,” she whispered.

  “That’s great,” I said.

  Ginny nodded. “It really is. It’s been life changing, and I’ve only been going for about a month. Oh!” she practically squealed. “And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to start fostering puppies!”

  “You are?”

  Her head bobbed up and down. “I am. You know Ruff Start Rescue, right?”

  I shook my head. I did not.

  “They’re over on the south side of the island, just a little rescue group Kitty Jennings started up a few years back. Anyway, my sponsor told me it might be a good idea to find some new responsibilities, something that gives me a sense of purpose, something that takes my attention off of me and my problems. I thought fostering cute little puppies would be the perfect thing to do!”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I told her. “And fun.” I didn’t add that puppies could be an awful lot of work, too. Trixie had been a handful when I’d first gotten her, with plenty of sleep-interrupted nights for potty breaks, and lots of training to get her to realize that shoes and socks were not her personal chew toys.

  “And I found a job.” Ginny’s eyes were almost sparkling, she looked so happy. “Over at the tailor’s shop just off Bellamy Street. Do you know it?”

  I shook my head again. I was zero for two. I was beginning to think I needed to pay more attention to my surroundings if she could mention two businesses that I wasn’t even aware existed. Sweetwater Island wasn’t that big, and I’d grown up here, for crying out loud.

  “It’s part-time,” she said. “Only about twenty hours a week. But it’s enough for me to pay my bills and to send money each month to start paying down my debt. I got it all consolidated, you know. One of those organizations that helps you out for free.”

  “That all sounds great, Ginny. I’m glad things are working out for you.”

  She was practically beaming. “They really are. And I owe it all to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Well, yes. I mean, if you hadn’t confronted me about my…my problem…who knows how long it would have taken me to realize just how far I’d sunk? You saved my life, Wendy. Well, you and Gamblers Anonymous. I can’t thank you enough.” She glanced at the bag she was holding and then thrust it in my direction. “Here. Take my cupcake.”

  “What?”

  “Take it,” she repeated. “A small thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

  “I-I’m going to get my own,” I stammered.

  “Are you sure?” Ginny’s lips pulled into a half-frown. “I’d really like to give it to you. It’s chocolate cappuccino.”

  “Really, it’s fine,” I assured her. “Thank you, though. That’s very generous.”

  She dropped her outstretched hand and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I’m glad things are going well for you, Ginny.” My words were sincere. “That is great news.”

  “I’ll let you know when I start fostering puppies,” she said. Her smile had returned. “Maybe you can swing by and say hello. Who knows? If they are adopted out on the island, they might end up being future clients of
yours.”

  “You never know,” I said. I glanced over at the tables, noting all three women were still in their respective seats. “Say, maybe there is a favor you could do for me.”

  Ginny was all ears. “What?”

  “Do you know Carmen Diggs?” I figured it was worth a shot to ask her. She seemed to know a lot more about the island than I did.

  Ginny’s brow furrowed. “The girl who works at the seafood restaurant?”

  I nodded.

  Using her free hand, she pointed to one of the tables. “You mean that Carmen?”

  I hazarded a glance and then nodded. “Yes. That’s her.” I smiled. “Thank you.”

  I could tell from her expression that she had questions but it was my turn to order so I bid her a quick goodbye.

  With my cupcake and a drip coffee in hand, I headed directly toward Carmen Diggs’ table.

  And sat down.

  Carmen, a pretty brunette who was probably in her early thirties, looked at me with a quizzical expression on her face.

  “Is anyone sitting here?” I asked.

  “No,” she said hesitantly. Her gaze darted around the restaurant…probably noting the numerous empty tables nearby.

  I slid into the seat across from her. She was almost finished with her cupcake, a vanilla buttercream with pink frosting, but her coffee was still half-full. I didn’t think she had plans to leave any time soon.

  Well, not until I showed up, anyway.

  I scrambled for something to say, something to keep her there. Something that wasn’t a flat-out accusation about the missing money from Jonah’s restaurant.

  “You work at The Perfect Catch, right?” I asked.

  I could tell she was searching my features, trying to see if she recognized me as a customer there. I could also tell she was coming up empty-handed.

  “I used to,” she said.

  I pulled at the wrapper surrounding my lemon cupcake. I was sure all of Leah’s cupcakes were delicious, but I was partial to the lemon ones. “Used to?”

  She gave a slight nod and said nothing.

  I bit into my cupcake, savoring the sweet and tangy flavors as the morsel melted on my tongue. “I swear I just saw you there last week,” I told her.

  Her lips thinned. “My last day was Friday.”

  “Oh.” I tried to look surprised. “Why did you quit?”

  She stared at me, her brown eyes a little apprehensive. I didn’t blame her. Who was I to her except some random woman sitting at her table, asking her questions?

  “I mean, it seems like a great place to work,” I continued. “Good food, pretty steady business, and it seems like Jonah is pretty laid back.”

  She sipped her coffee and said nothing.

  “Maybe I’m wrong,” I said.

  “It’s a fine place to work,” she said curtly. “It just…wasn’t a good fit anymore.”

  That told me absolutely nothing.

  She popped the last bit of her cupcake in her mouth, and I felt a surge of panic. She was going to leave and I’d gotten exactly nowhere in my conversation with her.

  I didn’t want to just burst out with an accusation, but I needed to cut to the chase.

  “Did you hear about the missing money?” I blurted out.

  She frowned. “What?”

  “The missing money,” I repeated. “Something about a bunch being missing from Jonah’s office…?”

  Carmen’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  I nodded. “Do…do you know anything about it?”

  She didn’t respond. She looked too shell-shocked to answer.

  “What?” I leaned across the table. “What do you know?”

  She blinked. “I don’t know anything,” she said. “This the first I’ve heard of it.”

  I had no way of knowing if she was lying or not.

  She expelled a breath and then picked up her cup of coffee. “That’s terrible news,” she murmured.

  I watched as she sipped her coffee. She really did look surprised by the news.

  Which did not support the theory that she was responsible.

  I tore off a hunk of cupcake and held it in my hand for a second before popping it in my mouth. I had no reason to think she was innocent, of course, especially considering the circumstances surrounding her departure from Jonah’s restaurant, but she certainly wasn’t acting like she was the guilty party.

  I chased the cake with a mouthful of coffee and decided to try a new tactic. “Would you know if there was someone who doesn’t like Jonah?”

  Her eyes flitted back to me. “Excuse me?”

  “I mean, I don’t know if it was stolen or what, but I was just wondering if there was anyone you know of who might have done something like that.”

  Carmen opened her mouth, then clamped it shut.

  Which meant there was someone.

  “Who?” I immediately asked.

  Her gaze dropped back to her coffee.

  “You know something.”

  “I don’t,” she said softly. “I don’t know anything.”

  “But you know someone who might have done it? If it turns out the money was stolen?”

  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “Look, I’m a friend of Jonah’s,” I told her.

  She gave me a skeptical look. “Then why don’t I know you? And why are you asking me so many questions?”

  I ignored her first comment and addressed the second one instead. “He asked me to look into the missing money,” I said. I took a deep breath. “Look, if you care one whit about Jonah, you would tell me if you can think of anyone who would do something like this to him. Just think of how bad this is for him.”

  Her cheeks flushed and she reached for her coffee again.

  “Please,” I said. “For Jonah. I know you didn’t leave under the best of circumstances, but does that really mean you want to see him suffer?”

  Of course, it did if she was the one responsible for stealing the money. But I wasn’t convinced she was. At least not yet.

  “Gunther.” She said the name in almost a whisper.

  “Who’s Gunther?” I didn’t recognize the name.

  “Gunther Lawrence,” she said. “He owns Shawnty’s.”

  That was a name I recognized.

  Shawnty’s was the other seafood restaurant on the marina.

  And in direct competition to Jonah’s place.

  EIGHT

  I didn’t know the first thing about Gunther Lawrence.

  So I started asking questions.

  “Why would Gunther Lawrence steal all of Jonah’s money?”

  Carmen’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t say he did,” she said quickly.

  “But I asked if you knew anyone who might have done it, and you said Gunther.”

  “I said no such thing.” Her lips pursed. “You asked if there was someone who didn’t like Jonah.”

  “No, I specifically asked if you knew someone—”

  Carmen cut me off. “No.” Her tone was firm. “Your first question was if I knew of anyone who didn’t like him. That was the question I was answering.”

  I mentally walked back through the last few minutes of my conversation with her. She was right.

  “Okay,” I said, a little grudgingly. “So can you tell me why Gunther might not like Jonah?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  It was, but I wanted to hear it from her.

  “Their restaurants are both on the marina and they both specialize in seafood.”

  “That doesn’t mean they have the same clientele,” I pointed out, remembering what Tate had told me about Jonah’s history.

  Jonah had left a swanky restaurant in Charleston to come to Sweetwater Island and open his own place. He’d wanted to leave behind the hustle and bustle of the city, but he also wanted to say goodbye to the pressure and stress of working in a high-volume restaurant. According to Tate, that meant the locals on the island kept Jonah’s place as
much of a secret as they could. Sure, its location meant that tourists and residents alike knew it existed. But it was Shawnty’s, Gunther’s restaurant, that the locals consistently recommended to tourists in an attempt to keep Jonah happy.

  Carmen shrugged. “All I know is what I’ve heard. Business is slowing down for Gunther. More people are going to PC.” She used the initials of Jonah’s restaurant in place of its actual name.

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s not hard to figure out,” she said. “More people coming in to Perfect Catch, more reviews on the online sites from out-of-towners.”She fingered the cupcake wrapper on her plate. “It’s a small island. Word gets around, you know?”

  That I did know.

  “But I don’t think Gunther would have done something like that,” Carmen continued. “If the money was actually stolen.”

  “If? What do you mean?”

  She smirked. “Jonah isn’t the most organized of people. There’s a good chance he just misplaced whatever it is that’s missing.”

  I mulled this over. I’d seen his office, how every horizontal surface seemed to be overflowing with clutter. But I’d also seen how distraught he was the day he’d discovered the money was missing. And I’d sat down and talked to him hours later, which would have given him plenty of time to tear apart his office and look for the box or envelope or whatever he’d used to hide away his savings.

  No, I was pretty sure he hadn’t just misplaced his life savings.

  “Wait a minute,” Carmen said slowly.

  I perked up. What had she remembered?

  Her eyes were slightly widened, and they were staring right at me. “I know who you are.”

  “What?”

  “You’re the dog walker, right? The one who has flyers up all over town?”

  I gave a slight nod.

  “And you were involved with that one lady’s death, right? The quilter?”

  I swallowed. Caroline.

  “I wasn’t involved,” I told her. “I found her dog and—”

  But she kept going. “And then the guy in the pool at the doggy daycare. You were involved with that, too, right?”

  I squirmed in my seat. She was making it sound as though I was somehow responsible for both of those deaths.