by Tegan Maher
The Sheriff nodded. “I see.” He tilted his head toward Dee. “She says the book notes on that tape recorder had to do with a horrible boss—an editor—who liked to rip apart the work of up-and-coming writers and then steal it and take credit for writing it herself. One of those writers gets fed up and ends up murdering her.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. So?”
“Dee said Fiona was pretty critical of your work. Maybe she hit a nerve and you came back to make sure she got her comeuppance.”
I frowned and shook my head. “That’s insane. I’ve been in this business for more than a decade. Trust me—I’ve had people who matter much more than she criticize my work. It’s just part of it.”
The Sheriff offered me a sympathetic look. “I am sorry that I have to ask all these questions, but I need to figure out what happened here.” He glanced at Dee. “Being that you came in and saw Dee standing over the body with the murder weapon, and being that Dee corroborates your claim, I think she looks guiltier than you do. I just have no idea who you are since you’re new to town, but I do know Dee. I honestly don’t think she could ever hurt a fly, but right now, things aren’t looking too good for her.”
He paused and took off his hat, ran his hand through his hair, and slapped the hat back on again. “It would have made my life a whole lot easier if I could have just blamed a stranger rather than a girl we all know and love.”
I blew out a breath and slumped back in my seat. “I get it. You need to cover all of your bases.”
The Sheriff nodded. “Exactly.”
“For what it’s worth, she was a wreck when I got here, and I don’t even think she realized she was still holding the pin. I was afraid she was gonna pass out.” I glanced over his shoulder to Dee, who was chewing her lip and staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know her, but my gut says she’s a good egg. I don’t think she did it.”
The door tinkled and a heavy-set balding man walked in. The sheriff glanced over his shoulder.
“About time,” he mumbled, then looked back at me. “You and Dee are free to go. If I have any more questions for you, I’ll be in touch. Just don’t leave town, okay? You’ll be at the lodge?”
I nodded. “There, or around town somewhere. I have to get groceries and cleaning supplies, and that’s just to start with.”
He paused for a moment, appraising me, before he said, “And don’t think too little of our town because of this incident and my questioning. This really is a great little place to live.”
I hoped he was right and this wasn’t a preview of what I had to look forward to. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Mike,” the Sheriff called as he stood up and went to greet the newcomer.
I pushed out of the booth and made my way over to Dee.
She looked up at me as she shredded her tissue into little pieces. “I’m sorry if I got you into any trouble with the sheriff.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry about it. You had to answer his questions honestly. Anything else would make us both look like we had something to hide.”
She nodded. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean? Your job?”
Dee shrugged and lifted her hands, palms up. “That too, but where am I supposed to go? I live upstairs in a small apartment, but I can’t stay there now. Not after ...” She gestured toward the kitchen as the sheriff and Mike, who I assumed was the coroner, disappeared through the swinging doors. “The sheriff said it’s a crime scene, and he doesn’t know when he’ll be able to clear it. Plus, it’s creepy.”
I nodded in understanding, then did something completely out of character. “You know, you could always come stay with me.”
Dee’s face lit up for a second at the lifeline, but then she tilted her head and examined me. “Really? You wouldn’t mind? Why would you do that?”
I smiled and shook my head. “Honestly, I have no idea, but I have a good feeling about you.” I thought back to the animal sounds from the night before and shuddered. “Plus, I could use the company.”
Dee stood up and gave me a half smile. “I’ll take it then, especially considering my options are limited to an apartment above where my evil aunt was murdered, your spare bedroom, or a nice cozy refrigerator box. Would you mind waiting here while I go and pack a few things?”
I smothered a laugh, since the sheriff would probably frown on levity while he was extracting a dead body thirty feet from us, and I was talking to the prime suspect. “Not a problem.”
I sat on the edge of Dee’s vacated booth and waited for her to return. While she was upstairs, Mike went out and retrieved a gurney, the sheriff holding the door so he could bring it in. I really hoped Dee came back before they hauled the body out—seeing it once was enough.
Thankfully, they’d barely managed to maneuver the gurney into the kitchen when she came back, a suitcase in one hand and a duffle bag slung over the opposite shoulder. “Ready.”
I got up and followed her out the café doors. “Don’t you need to lock up or anything?”
Dee looked around and shook her head. “No, Gabe said he’d do it.”
I led her to my SUV and unlocked the back door so she could throw her stuff inside. “Do you have a car that we need to pick up somewhere?”
“No. Pretty much everywhere I need to go is in walking distance of this place.” Dee set her luggage in the back and walked around to the passenger side. “Do you mind making a stop by Fiona’s house? It’s just right up the road, and I have to check on Bear and probably make arrangements for him.”
“Sure. Who’s Bear?” I said as I closed the hatch.
“Fiona’s Leonberger. He’s an orphan now, so I suppose animal control will have to pick him up.”
I glanced at Dee. “A Leonberger? Is that a guard-dog type of dog?”
Dee nodded. “He’s massive, but a big baby once you get to know him. Super smart, too, but his size alone is intimidating.”
That sounded like the perfect solution for me. “I planned on getting a dog anyway, so why don’t we just bring Bear with us back to the lodge? He can stay with us until you find him something better. Or for that matter, if we get along, I’ll keep him, if nobody has a problem with it.”
She turned to me. “Really?”
I nodded. “Sure. I need a dog, Bear needs a home. It’ll save me a trip to the animal rescue shelter, and it’ll keep him out of one, so it’s a win-win situation.”
A relieved smile spread across Dee’s face. “You’re amazing. I really wasn’t too keen on calling animal control to come get him. You’re going to love him. I promise!”
Chapter 6
AS THE HATCH CLICKED shut, a little old lady wearing a pink apron approached us, carrying a huge jug of what I guessed was chocolate syrup in each hand. “What’s all the fuss about?” she said, scowling. “Fiona finally poison somebody?”
Considering the circumstances, I bit back a smile because it was something I’d have probably said. Actually, I had said it, right to Fiona, the night before. Dee climbed back out of my car.
“Marjorie, this is Toni. She just moved here. Toni, Marjorie owns the ice cream shop.” She motioned to the store situated directly beside the café. Ah, Marjorie of the intrusive signs.
“Yeah, yeah,” the woman said, setting down the jugs and shaking my hand, but only because I offered it. “Nice to meet ya. Who’d Fiona poison?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or did she do something to Harold?”
Dee furrowed her brow. “She didn’t poison anybody, and why would you think she did something to Harold?”
Marjorie snorted. “Because they was kickin’ up some sort of fuss this morning. I was taking my trash out and could hear them all the way back there. Not that I was eavesdropping or anything.”
I gave her a wry smile. No, of course not.
“How do you know it was Harold?” I asked.
She gave me a speculative look. “Cause his truck was parked out back. How else? Ain’t like
anybody was there just to visit her. Now, what’s going on?” She craned her neck toward the café, looking back and forth from it to the cruiser and ambulance.
Dee sighed. “Somebody killed Fiona, Marjorie.”
The woman stared at her for a couple heartbeats, her faded blue eyes speculative. “They know who did it?”
“Not yet,” Dee said. “They’re processing things now.”
The old lady thought for a couple more heartbeats, then gave a brisk nod and picked up the jugs. “Well good, then,” she said, then turned and disappeared back into her store before either of us could gather our wits enough to ask what she meant by that.
“That was ... odd,” I said. “Is she always like that?”
Dee frowned, looking after the woman. “She’s kind of an odd duck, I suppose, but that was a little over the top even for her.”
“Should we tell the sheriff about it?” I asked. The woman obviously wasn’t going to lose any sleep over the fact that her neighbor had just been murdered in the building right next to her.
“Nah,” she said after a few seconds. “He’ll talk to her, and besides, what would we say? That Marjorie wasn’t broken up when we told her Fiona was dead?”
“Um, I was thinking more along the lines of telling him she was glad Fiona was dead and stated it in no uncertain terms.”
She waved me off. “That wouldn’t be news to him. Those two have been going at it forever.”
I may have been new to the place, but that seemed relevant. I said so.
“Gabe’ll talk to her,” she said, climbing back into my car. “He’s known her forever and will have a much better read on her than we could.”
I still thought maybe we should have said something, but she knew the lay of the land better than I did, and it was her head on the pike.
“So are you from here?” I asked as I climbed in and buckled my seatbelt.
“No,” she said. “My mom was from here and wanted to come back when she got sick so she could be with Fiona. She passed a few years ago, and I stuck around. By then, the place had grown on me, and despite how she seems, my aunt wasn’t all bad. She could be downright funny when she wanted to be.”
I’d have to take her word for it because I sure hadn’t seen that side of her.
“Are you married? Kids?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nope, and nope. The dating pool here isn’t exactly Olympic-sized. What about you?”
“Me either,” I said, not ready to share much more than that. “I’m not looking right now, but it would be nice to meet somebody eventually. Trust me—the dating pool can’t be much worse here than it is in Orlando for somebody our age.”
“Really?” she said. “I’d think there’d be all kinds of hot guys there.”
I laughed. “There are, but it seems all the good ones are either married, too young, too old, or gay.” Or friends with my ex-husband, I added to myself.
She lifted a shoulder, then smiled. “I have to believe we all have somebody. I just hope they break down on the freeway and have to stop here. I don’t want to wish the food on them, but the coffee’s not bad while they’re waiting for a tow truck.”
“Speaking of,” I said, “What’s gonna happen with the café?”
“Oh,” she said, looking a little dazed. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought of that. For that matter, I should probably call Katie and tell her she doesn’t need to come in this evening.”
“Yeah,” I said, brow raised. “That may not be a bad idea. Considering the cook’s dead. Though to be fair, the food couldn’t really get much worse.” I felt bad after I said it because a shadow crossed her face. I needed to remember that Fiona had been her aunt as well as her horrible boss.
“Sorry,” I said. “That was out of turn.”
She sighed and flicked her hand as she pulled her phone out of her purse. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you’re wrong.”
She made the phone call, but when she hung up, she turned to me. “I’m not sure what to do now. I mean, does the restaurant just stay closed, or should I go ahead and open it in the morning?” She gave a little shiver. “I know I don’t want to be there alone, but we all have to work, too. That place is how Katie, Jeremy, and I pay the bills. Jeremy’s the other cook.”
“Is he any good?” I asked. “Can he run the kitchen without Fiona?”
She snorted and motioned for me to make a left. “He’s amazing. I’m sorry he wasn’t the one working when you came in—he has this blend he puts on the burgers that’s off the chain. That’s about as creative as Fiona would let him get, though. He had some great menu suggestions, but she wouldn’t listen. Just like with my desserts.” She shook her head. “Wasted talent, and we could have made her place better.”
I took the turn, admiring the houses as we went. If we were near Fiona’s house, she lived in a good neighborhood. All the lawns were neatly trimmed, and the houses themselves were nice, though not upscale. “Then maybe you should talk to the sheriff. I mean, you said you went to school for baking, right?”
“Yeah,” she replied, motioning to a white house with green trim. “That’s her place. Just pull into the drive. I went to pastry school. I’m not much good at savory foods, but I can bake a soufflé like nobody’s business.”
“Okay, then,” I said, putting the car in park. “And didn’t you say something about the ladies’ auxiliary placing an order for cakes or something with Fiona?”
She turned to me, excited. “You’re right! Somebody’s going to have to bake those.” Her face fell. “We have another bakery, though, so I can’t imagine she’s going to give me the business when she’s never tasted anything I’ve made.”
I lifted a shoulder. “You never know.”
She still had to make a living, and there was still a café there. I didn’t know how the law read, but it seemed to me that life had to go on.
Chapter 7
I WAS A LITTLE SURPRISED to find Fiona’s place was immaculate. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but a cute house decorated with homey but tasteful pictures and knick-knacks sort of threw me for a loop. I’d been expecting chaos ... and maybe a torture chamber or two.
The monstrous, furry dog that bound to the door to lick us to death didn’t do much for my faith that he’d be a good guard dog, but Dee assured me he’d be protective once we built a relationship. I let him out while she grabbed his food and bowls, then we loaded him into the backseat and were on our way. Dee’s attitude at first was a little odd, a mixture of sadness and relief.
We made idle chitchat for a couple miles, then she turned to me. “This is gonna sound really bad, and I feel like an awful person saying it, but I have mixed feelings about her being gone. On one hand, I’m sad that the person I know she could be is gone, but on the other, we didn’t get along well most of the time. I’m not glad she’s dead, but I feel like I should be more ... devastated, or something.”
I studied her face for any signs she was a serial killer about to reveal the truth before she killed me too, but all I saw was guilt.
I shook my head. “You can’t do that to yourself. People are complicated, and she didn’t strike me as somebody who was exactly easy to love. She wasn’t nice to you at all, so with all the power she held over your life, I’d say what you’re feeling is probably normal.”
“It doesn’t feel normal, but then again, this is only the second time I’ve dealt with the death of somebody close to me, at least as an adult. My dad died when I was six, and my grandparents helped raise me, but I didn’t spend hardly any time with Fiona at all until the last few years. I guess I just feel like I should feel worse about it.”
“You can’t make yourself feel anything, and you shouldn’t feel like what you’re feeling is wrong.”
She glanced at me, her brow raised, then laughed. “I’m not sure what the heck you just said, but I’ll take your word for it.”
I grinned back. “Sometimes things that sound perfectly reasonable fall out
of my mouth directly from my brain before I have a chance to filter it. That was one of those times. Trust me—it made sense before I said it.”
“Go with that,” she said, and the mood in the car lifted. In a few more minutes, I pulled around the final curve to the lodge. The mountains rising behind it reminded me why I’d fallen in love with it to begin with, and for just a minute, I could look past the decay and amount of work it needed, and see what lay beneath. It had potential, and I intended to help it live up to that.
Dee shook her head. “That place is awesome, or at least it could be. You could make it a lodge again, or a bed and breakfast, or you could just rent out rooms to people that need them.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, but I’m definitely going to fix it up. I don’t know how I feel about staying under the same roof as strangers all the time.”
I pulled around to the cottage, then got out and opened the back door. Bear leaped out with a huge doggie smile. He was a massive animal but didn’t drool like most big dogs. I had a feeling he and I were going to be buds.
“Even this place is great,” Dee said as she pulled her suitcase out of the back of the car.
I reached down to pet Bear, looking at the place and trying to see it through her eyes, considering my view was jaded. “I still don’t know what I want to do with it, either. I guess taking stock of what needs to be done at both places is my first order of business.” It was then that I heard chopping coming from around back.
Dee and I shared a quizzical look before creeping around to investigate the sound. Scout was there chopping wood, and it looked like he’d been at it for a while. There was a decent pile started within the woodshed, and several pieces lying split and ready to stack around the stump he was using as a chopping block.
