by Ellery Adams
“What about Alice?” Savannah asked. “Find out anything useful? Could she be who Dax is with right now?”
“Maybe,” Quinton said. “Though she didn’t have a kind word to spare for him.”
“Alice did admit that she was working at the inn under duress,” Cooper added. “She didn’t want to be there or take over the kitchen. Her mother insisted. All indications point to Loretta somehow blackmailing her own daughter. Alice denied that notion. Except, a conversation that Quinton and I overheard at the inn contradicts that.”
Quinton nodded. “I agree. What we heard made it sound like Loretta had something on her daughter that was making Alice do her bidding.”
“We’re going to have to dig deeper if we want to find out what it is,” Cooper said.
“What about Chef Eason?” Trish asked.
“I spoke with him last evening. We had coffee and tiramisu at La Grotta Ristorante,” Quinton said. He looked at Cooper and winked. “The man had a lot to say about someone in our group.”
Cooper felt her face flush. Boy, would she have liked to be a fly on the wall for that meeting.
“You guys are killing me,” Bryant interjected. “All this talk of dessert.” He eyed the pastry case. “I’m going to need a chocolate croissant real soon.”
Quinton laughed. “I hear you.”
Trish gave Cooper a friendly elbow nudge. “We’re on the edge of our seats. What did you find out about our handsome chef friend, Quinton?”
“The guy is a boy scout. The only thing hiding in his closet is a trust fund. He has zero motive.”
“A trust fund?” Cooper said the words aloud, instantly annoyed. Public university type, he had claimed. In a pig’s eye. She felt like she’d been deceived and didn’t like it one bit. The information Quinton shared only made her realize that once again, she’d failed to be discerning when it came to men.
“Not a big trust fund,” Quinton continued. “But enough to clear him of any crime for financial gain.”
“Who’s left?” Savannah asked the question as she jotted down a few more notes.
“Tony Mancuso,” Trish said. “And he isn’t just the gardener. His daughter married Mindy’s mother’s cousin’s son.”
“I don’t even want to try to figure out the proper genealogy there,” Jake said.
“Second cousins,” Trish said. “Mindy and her mother’s cousin’s son share a set of grandparents.”
“If you say so,” Jake said. He emptied his coffee cup and set it aside.
“A bit of trivia, Tony’s daughter was married at the Atwood Inn. In the gardens. He’s been kept on as part of the original estate of Mindy’s mother when she passed five years ago. It was her family who owned the inn,” Trish said. “He has an annual salary and a nice pension.”
Cooper nodded. “Which he clearly deserves. The grounds are amazing.”
“Yes, but here’s the kicker,” Bryant said. “Loretta wanted him gone. She didn’t like anything associated with her deceased husband’s first wife. If she was successful in either getting him fired or making him leave, Tony would lose his pension. The man is a few years from retirement.”
“No love lost for Loretta there,” Quinton observed. “Did Tony say anything about the roses in Loretta’s car?”
“Tony admitted to putting them there, knowing it would annoy her,” Bryant said. “He was aware they would only cause irritation, not a deadly reaction. Detective Olson gave him a stern warning and a speech about being charged with malicious mischief.”
“Really, he could have been arrested for that?”
“Absolutely, with fines up to a thousand bucks. Olson declined to charge him.”
“I guess that keeps him on the suspect list until we find out more,” Quinton said to Bryant.
Savannah looked up from her notebook once more. “What about Helen Everett, the receptionist?”
Trish shook her head. “We haven’t found her yet. Her roommate said she moved out two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks?” Savannah asked. “Just like Dax.”
“Yeah,” Jake said. “Exactly two weeks ago, our vacation was interrupted. We were at the inn being interviewed by Detective Olson.”
“What are the odds that Helen and Dax both move out of their places about the same time? That’s way too big a coincidence,” Quinton said.
Trish glanced at her phone and her eyes rounded. “Oh, my. I have to get going. I’m supposed to pick up my daughter from ballet.”
“I have to be on my way as well,” Bryant said. His gaze scanned the table. “Looks like we all need to dig deeper if we want to find the real culprit and be able to cross Mindy Atwood and Maggie Lee off the list.”
Cooper nodded. She planned to dig deeper, and that included questions that needed answers from Jon Eason. She followed the group out the door. Savannah’s cane clicked on the asphalt as headed to Jake’s Mr. Faucet work van parked right in front of Panera. The Mr. Faucet van was hard to miss. It was painted sky blue with a shiny silver water faucet on each side. The slogan splashed across the side of the van read Get the drips outta your life.
“Jake, you have a flat tire,” Trish said.
“Well, that stinks.”
“Savannah, why don’t you wait in the restaurant while I change the tire? Nice and air-conditioned in there.”
“Nonsense, I’m not a fragile flower. I can hand you tools.”
He grinned. “That’s my gal!”
“Can we help?” Bryant asked.
“Nah, no big deal.” Jake flexed his biceps. “I’ve got this.”
Cooper crossed the pavement, and as she approached her own Jeep, she could see that she too had a flat tire. Hadn’t they just mentioned coincidences?
She called over to Quinton, a few car spots down. “Is your car okay?”
Quinton peered at his cream-colored vintage Caddy and sighed. “Flat tire. Looks like it’s a puncture.”
“My Audi, too,” Bryant called out. He glanced up at the parking lot lights. “Look, there are cameras. We need to find out who did this.”
“Trish, are you okay?” Cooper asked Trish, who had parked close by.
“Yes. But my Mercedes was hit as well.” She shook her head. “Whoever did this doesn’t know what they’ve unleashed. You do not mess with the mama of a bunhead.”
A shiver raced over Cooper, and she quickly assessed the cars and the few people in the parking lot. Was whoever did this watching them? And did they have enough bravado to deflate tires in broad daylight?
The group quickly congregated in a shady spot at the outdoor tables in front of Panera to confer.
“Who arrived first?” Quinton asked.
“I did,” Cooper said, raising a hand. “I dashed out of church as soon as the last song ended, so I could save a table for all of us.”
“That’s how the culprit found all of our vehicles. He . . . or she, had eyes on you in the restaurant, and we all showed up.”
“Someone followed me?” Cooper squeaked.
“That’s my guess,” Quinton said.
“Someone who recognizes all of us from the Atwood Inn,” Trish added.
“That someone is sending us a message,” Bryant said.
“I’d say it’s a cowardly message,” Savannah replied. There was a fierce expression on her face. “To do evil is like sport to a fool.” She looked at them. “Our study this morning. Remember? Proverbs 10:23. Whoever did this finds pleasure in wicked schemes.”
Cooper gasped. “Jon told me that Dax was a practical jokester.”
“If this was him, he’s crossed the line. This isn’t funny,” Trish said.
“We all need to be very careful from this point on,” Quinton said. “I have no doubt this was simply a malicious prank to get us all nervous. But it worked.”
“Should we call the police?”
“Yes. Let’s give Detective Olson a call. Maybe they can identify the perpetrator from the parking lot security cameras.”
“I�
�m going to call Triple-A,” Trish said.
Jake turned to her. “I’ll change your tire, Trish.”
“Nonsense, there are too many tires here to change. That’s why my dear husband invested in a top-of-the-line road service. Which reminds me, I better call Phil and tell him he has ballet duty.” She stepped away with her phone to her ear.
Cooper frowned as she considered the implications of today’s attack on the group. Quinton was right. Now they’d have to look over their shoulders and be very careful. But what about her mother? Had she inadvertently put Maggie in danger as well? Cooper grimaced, praying that she was wrong.
• • •
“Frank will be here any minute,” Grammy announced. She zipped up her purple jogging suit as she entered the kitchen.
“Don’t you look nice, Grammy,” Cooper commented. Her grandmother’s Sunday jogging suit was always purple, but this one was a bit fancier than her usual outfits.
“Thank you, Granddaughter. This was a Christmas present from Earl and Maggie, if you recall. This shade is called cabernet.” She did a little twirl to show off the pretty embroidery on the sleeves before she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic container of fried chicken.
Cooper stared in disbelief as her grandmother put the entire container of chicken in a wicker picnic basket, along with a container of potato salad and half the apple pie left over from dessert last night.
“I guess Frank is a big eater,” Cooper finally said.
“Naw, most of that is for me.” She grinned and pulled the ice packs from the freezer. “We’ve got a long day planned. I need my sustenance.”
“Are you going to watch the fireworks, Grammy?” Maggie asked as she removed warm gingersnaps from a cookie sheet.
“You betcha. Car show, concert in the park, and then fireworks.”
“You and Frank certainly are getting along very well, aren’t you?” Cooper asked.
Grammy turned slowly and pointed a bottle of orange soda at Cooper. “Don’t be getting any ideas.”
“I’m just saying.”
“It’s not what you’re saying,” she said. “It’s what you ain’t.”
“You two have been dating, what? A year now?” Cooper asked. She flipped the pages of the gardening catalog slowly, stopping to examine glossy pictures of hanging flower baskets.
From across the table Earl lowered his newspaper and watched the exchange, his lips twitching.
“Why is it you young ’uns need to put a label on everything? We’re just two people going to do the same thing at the same time. Date!” Grammy practically spat the word. “You’d do better with your relationships if you stopped worrying about tomorrow and focused on today.”
Cooper laughed, but she could see the simple wisdom in her grandmother’s statement, though she wasn’t ready to admit that. After all the times Grammy had given her grief about her love life, she figured today was as good as any for a little good-natured chiding.
“So it’s not a date,” Cooper said.
“Oh, my stars. People my age don’t date. They’re too busy taking another breath. I’m grateful to the good Lord each day to find my name isn’t in the Richmond Times-Dispatch obituaries.”
“Why don’t you bring Frank over for dinner sometime, Grammy?” Cooper asked.
“Because my nosy granddaughter might scare him away, that’s why.”
“Cooper, what are you doing, getting Grammy all stirred up?” Maggie asked. Her eyes sparkled as she observed the mischief.
“I’m simply trying to find out Frank’s intentions with my dearly beloved grandmother.”
Grammy started laughing. “Now that is the funniest thing I ever heard.”
“Cooper, your father and I are headed to the car show too,” her mother said. She untied her apron. “Are you sure you don’t mind being alone on the holiday?”
“No way. I have half a dozen flats of flowers in the back of my Jeep ready to plant, and a dozen chores to do to get ready for Angela’s wedding.”
“That reminds me. We got our invitation to the wedding. I’m so excited. Imagine a wedding in our yard.” Maggie smiled. “Is the reception still going to be at Atwood Inn?”
“Yes. They have a lovely banquet room. Ashley reserved it weeks ago, before we even knew we’d be right in the middle of an investigation.”
“It’s not going to be a problem?”
“Not according to Ashley and Mindy.”
“I’ll be excited to see the inn then. I only dropped off Magnolia’s Marvels at the delivery door. Maybe I can see the gardens.”
“I’ll show you around, Mama.”
An hour later, Cooper went outside to wave goodbye to her parents as they took off for the afternoon. Cooper sat on a wooden glider in the side yard and enjoyed the warm sunshine on her face as she planned her afternoon. The air was warm with a slight breeze that moved the wind chimes hanging from the oak tree, creating a tinkling accompaniment to the sounds of Mother Nature all around her. The hummingbirds were out this morning, sipping nectar from the bright red salvia before darting away. Days like this made her reluctant to leave home. Everything she needed and wanted was here.
For a moment, her thoughts drifted to the awful prank at Panera yesterday. She’d been so upset by the whole thing that she’d driven in circles before heading home, hoping to lose whoever might be following her. She had vowed that she’d get to the bottom of the situation, if only so she could sleep at night.
A few minutes later, Frank pulled up in his Caprice with the top down and gave a musical toot of the horn for Grammy. Today he looked even more dapper than usual in a straw Fedora and sunglasses. With his white beard and mustache, she had to admit that Grammy’s beau was a very handsome gentleman.
When Frank spotted Cooper, he offered a tip of his hat. “Hello, Miss Cooper. Any big plans for the holiday?”
“If dead-heading marigolds is big plans, I’ll be knee-deep in the fun,” she said.
Frank offered a deep and full laugh. A moment later, Grammy came out the door lugging the picnic basket in her skinny arms.
Cooper jumped up from the swing. “Grammy, let me help you with that.” She took the basket and nearly stumbled. “Goodness, do you have Little Boy in here too?”
“Very funny, Granddaughter. It’s a little snack for us old folks.”
Frank opened the trunk of the Caprice and took the basket easily. “Thank you, Miss Cooper.”
“Are you sure you two aren’t taking a road trip?” Cooper asked. “That basket has enough food for a week.”
“For a little thing, your grandmother can pack it away,” Frank murmured for her ears only. “It’s not good for her to go too long without eating. Low blood sugar breeds contrariness.”
Cooper nearly laughed out loud. Frank sure knew her grandmother well.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Grammy called from the passenger seat. She tied a purple scarf around her hair and slipped on her oversized tortoiseshell sunglasses. “Tootle-loo, Granddaughter. Don’t wait up for me.”
Cooper waved as the car pulled away. A minute or two after they disappeared from sight, a familiar dark sedan pulled into the Lee driveway. Jon Eason.
When he got out of the car and smiled, Cooper resisted the urge to give in and smile back. Instead, she crossed her arms, watching as he approached.
“Should I have called first?” he asked with a frown. “You said you’d be working on the yard today, and I thought I could help.”
“Is that so?” The man could have helped a long time ago if he’d been honest with her. He was a blue blood, like Lincoln Love, and while she often envied her sister’s charmed, upper-crust life in her castle, she was happy with her life among the peasants.
“I am definitely sensing a problem.” Jon reached into the car, pulled out a container and placed it on the roof of the sedan. When he straightened and faced her, a lock of caramel hair fell over his forehead, nearly distracting her. “I brought cookies,” he said.<
br />
“That won’t help you out of this fix,” Cooper said.
“Maybe you should tell me what I did,” he countered.
“Do you, or do you not, have a trust fund?”
“Oh, that. I guess you’ve been comparing notes with Quinton.”
“I thought you said you were a regular guy.”
“I am a regular guy.”
“I don’t know any regular guys with trust funds.” She didn’t know any guys like him period. But that was another matter.
“Now you do. My grandmother left me a small amount of money, and I created an organization that provides scholarships for high school students who want to become professional chefs.”
Rich and altruistic. Cooper sighed. Quinton was right. Jon was a boy scout, which made him nearly irresistible.
He leaned against the sedan and crossed his arms as well. “Are you telling me you’re only my friend because you thought I was penniless?”
“No, but that would be helpful,” she admitted.
He laughed. “Would it help if I gave away my extensive collection of Beatles memorabilia?”
“What? No! You never said you were a Beatles fan.”
“Excuse me. The last time I was here, my shirt said it all.”
Jon was a collector? She recalled that her former fiancé, Nathan, had a Star Wars collection. Two guys in her life with collections. Maybe it was a guy thing. She sure hoped that was the case instead of having some deep-seated psychological meaning about her that would require years of therapy.
Did her daddy collect things? Earl did have all those vintage license plates from the fifty states tacked to the wall in the garage. Immediately, she felt better. It was them, not her.
“You okay, Coop? You seem to be thinking hard. Do you want me to leave?”
“Leave? I’m not even sure why you’re here.”
“You said you were doing wedding prep today. I’m here to assist. Point me in the right direction, and I’ll get to work.”
“On the Fourth of July, you came out to the Lee house to help me with chores?”
“I had high hopes that it meant digging in the dirt.”
Cooper stared at him, and this time didn’t hold back her smile. She weighed her options. Handsome chef who has been cleared from the suspect list brings cookies and asks to help with her chores. What was she waiting for?
