by Rosie Sams
Melody just looked at him to communicate the way her gut was screaming that Hillary was innocent.
Alvin shook his head.
Melody shrugged her shoulders and kept her look on him.
“I know that look,” Alvin said. “Okay, let’s go back to the scene of the crime. I am going to go out on a limb and trust you here. My only caveat is that we need to pick up Smudge if we are going back to the inn.”
Melody gave him a big smile. “You are right, Kerry will be sleeping. Leslie was already going to open the pastry shop by herself. We can message Kerry to go in around noon for the lunch rush, but we need to make everything as easy for her as possible. She has been so good in helping me, and who knows, Smudge could be some help.”
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Six
The drive back to the inn was quiet, but Melody felt better with Smudge on her knee. Leslie had been sad to see Smudge go and had given her lots of kisses.
Melody had quickly explained the situation, and Leslie agreed to keep things quiet. Melody handed her assistant the keys to the shop. Out of Alvin’s earshot, she asked Leslie to send some food to Hillary at the station. She knew the girl would appreciate something besides a dry cheese sandwich. Melody asked Leslie to do so as soon as she could, even if it meant delaying the opening by a few minutes. Leslie agreed and hugged Smudge goodbye. The dog was so thrilled to be back by her owner’s side, she only managed to give Leslie a small lick before soaking Melody’s face in sloppy kisses. Melody instantly felt better. Hillary would get some much-needed nourishment, and Melody would find the real culprit. She had never been surer of anything in her life.
The country views that had recently brought so much joy to Alvin and Melody now seemed to mock them. Going back to Bronwyn’s Country Inn was the last thing either one of them wanted to do. Alvin felt the case was closed, but something niggled at Melody. She felt compelled to help Hillary by figuring out who the real murderer was. The girl was too young to spend her life behind bars for a murder, Melody was certain, she did not commit. Only logically, she didn’t know why she knew this. Alvin was right, all the evidence pointed to Hillary, and yet Melody just knew she was innocent. Who could it be? She felt slightly overwhelmed by all the possibilities but was profoundly grateful that Alvin was trusting her to leave the case open.
Dawn had broken, and warm colors filled the inn’s windows with golden light. It was hard to believe that only a few hours earlier, the proprietress had been killed in the elegant dining room. They stopped outside the entrance, and Melody shivered.
Smudge hopped out of the car and ran to Terrance DeWitt, who had been sitting down on one of the front porch’s rocking chairs. He picked up the friendly bulldog and gave her the warmest welcome. Melody was surprised at how relaxed he seemed, given the events of the night.
Alvin shouted a greeting at him, his voice slightly hoarse from the fatigue he must be feeling.
Terrance put Smudge down and brought Melody and Alvin into his office. The bulldog made a beeline for the thermos sitting at the edge of his desk. Terrance had been chugging the coffee hours before in his office when Melody and Kerry stumbled upon him. Surely, it was empty now. Smudge sniffed in its direction with the greatest curiosity. To get her master’s attention, Smudge barked at the thermos and sat down, staring at it.
“Thank you for bringing us into your office, Mr. DeWitt. As you know, the case seems to be closed. We just want to tie up some loose ends and make sure everything is settled,” Alvin said.
“Alvin, why don’t we take a look at the books just to be sure nothing was missed,” Melody said.
“Mr. DeWitt, it will only take a short time.”
Terrance shifted in his seat. “Why? Hillary is already under arrest. You have your murderer.”
“We do, but it is always best to dot all the i’s,” Alvin said, and Melody could hear the excitement in his voice. His fatigue seemed to have gone.
“My books have nothing to do with the murder. Nothing at all. You will just be wasting your valuable time. There is nothing to find here. Sheriff Hennessy, I must insist that you leave my office at once,” Terrance snapped.
Smudge growled at the harsh tone toward her second master.
Alvin smiled as pleasantly as possible, and ignoring the comments he began flipping through the books.
Terrance was visibly annoyed. His face reddened, and he began to sweat profusely. On the desk, his hands reached out for the ledger before clenching into fists before he pulled them off the table. Though he made no more move for the books, his eyes looked wild, and he seemed to flinch with every turn of the page.
“My fiancée has to keep her own books for her business, Mr. DeWitt. I am going to ask for her expert opinion here,” Alvin beckoned Melody to his side to take a look.
It took only one glance for Melody to see that Ruth had been in the red.
“Did Ruth know how much debt the inn was in?” Melody asked.
Terrance mumbled and shook his head.
“Why would she have recruited such a star chef if she had?”
Terrance’s eyes were even wider, but he didn’t answer.
“I doubt she would have,” Alvin said. “That is too much of a Hail Mary for a failing business.” His voice was even and calm, his gaze never moving from Terrance, but Melody had a growing sense of alarm.
“I made Ruth aware of the situation,” Terrance managed at last. “She told me to handle it. I was doing so last night. That’s why I stayed so late and why Ruth was annoyed when I didn’t upsell Miss Porter on a larger reception.”
“That’s all? Her business was failing, and she asked you to handle it? You, in many ways, are responsible for her being in the red. What you are telling me is that she barely batted an eye. I am having a hard time believing that, Mr. DeWitt,” Alvin said.
“I simply planned to hold off on all non-essential purchases. I actually did not want to book Miss Porter’s wedding at all because we would have had to buy so much in advance, but Ruth was insistent that the inn keep the news out of the Port Warren grapevine. That we carry on as usual. It was an approach that I was against.”
“Maybe the best way to get her to see your point of view and silence the grapevine was to get rid of her,” Alvin suggested.
“I would never! There is a big difference between the value numbers represent and the value of human life. I know the difference. Everything aside, I would never take Ruth’s or anybody’s life over money.”
Alvin’s eyes were like lasers seeing into Terrance’s soul. “But you believe Hillary is guilty of committing the murder because she was fired. It seems like you have more of a motive than she does.”
Terrance shrugged and then smiled. He knew it did not look great for him at the moment, even though the young waitress had been covered in blood. However, it looked like his nerves were gone. Like he had an ace up his sleeve.
“Were you aware that Hillary was involved in a love triangle with Ruth and Shawn? Hillary and Shawn had a thing going, and Ruth was pressuring Shawn to put a stop to it. Pressuring him to be with her. Then there’s the chef. With all due respect, Sheriff Hennessy, I think that jealousy trumps being in the red any day,” Terrance said.
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Seven
Melody’s jaw hit the ground, and Smudge let out a small yip. Melody had never thought of Ruth as a woman who dipped her pen in the company ink. She had known bosses who put their employees in uncomfortable positions such as this. She vowed to never be that way and was not sure if Terrance was just saying this because Ruth couldn’t defend herself. Her main emotion was shock, but she looked over at Alvin and could see his face was touched with anger. Alvin was very protective of the Port Warren women.
“These have to be the nastiest and stupidest words I have ever heard,” Alvin said. “The kids I bring in that have been busted for shoplifting have better excuses. Terrance DeWitt, you must be a fool to think I would ever believe you and an even bigger fool for letting that thought
leave your mouth. You should be ashamed of yourself. Ruth may not have been warm and friendly with you guys, but she has a reputation for being fair. To desecrate her memory like that, when her body isn’t even cold is beyond disgusting,” Alvin said his words calm but powered with force.
Terrance was taken aback by Alvin’s reply. “I know it’s shocking. I didn’t want it to be true either when I found out. Ruth and I had our own relationship, nothing funny, though. She wanted to teach me the ins and outs of business so she could make me a partner. She spent so much of her life at the inn, trying to make it a success and then keeping it that way. There was little to no time for her personal life. That’s why she wanted me to take the reins a bit. She had even planned to go on vacation for a week or two after I became a partner. She started researching cabins in Vermont and rentals in Paris. We worked well together, and she knew it.”
“And maybe that is why you put a knife in her back. You didn’t want to be a partner, you wanted the whole business to yourself. That way, you could have total control of the inn. You decided to frame an upset girl, make her look guilty beyond a reasonable doubt by covering her in Ruth’s blood, and then take over. You would take both women’s lives just to make your own more comfortable,” Alvin said. “You better have a strong alibi because I think you have the perfect motive for murder – greed.”
One of Alvin’s officers came into the office and let Alvin and Melody know that Chef Coleman had made the officers pizza and chili. It was going on nine o’clock in the morning. Chef Coleman knew the men would need hearty fare to take them through the day.
“I want you to know, Terrance, that you better not leave this office. I am posting an officer outside to make sure you don’t. You are a shameful person and now the prime suspect.”
Melody put her arm around Alvin and steered him out of the room. She hadn’t seen him that upset in a long time. Melody knew Alvin took his job seriously. She also knew he had not gotten much sleep and had to be famished. She knew she was.
“Let’s enjoy some pizza. I can’t believe Chef even made us chili. I bet that must have gone against his belief that our palates need expanding,” Melody said.
Alvin laughed a little harder than he normally would have. The fatigue had started to set in. As the happy couple stepped outside Terrance’s office, the smell of cheese and meat beckoned them to the dining room.
“Smells good,” Melody said, her mind briefly wondering if she should call the bakery to check in. After hearing Terrance’s shocking news, the fact that Ruth felt she had no time for a personal life hit her hard. Melody knew that running a business was no easy feat. A business owner had to manage staff, pay attention to every penny, including buying just enough ingredients to make the goods but not so much that it creates a wasteful surplus. On top of all this, you had to connect with customers, balance the books. Melody knew she did a good job balancing it all, but there were still some days when crippling doubt would set in that her dream was too big for her capabilities. Another fear was that the people of Port Warren wouldn’t like her food anymore. Sometimes, when bad weather hit the town, Melody saw the empty chairs in her shop as warning signs of what would happen if she stopped working for even a second.
Melody didn’t want to believe that Ruth was involved with one of her servers. Well, from the sounds of it, trying to force an involvement. But if she never had time to enjoy her success, with or without someone special, it would make sense. Still, Melody was not convinced. She did take a moment as Alvin walked in front of her toward the heavenly smell of pizza and chili to thank her gut for screaming that Hillary was innocent. She thought back to when she had been accused of the Swan murder. Alvin made sure Melody felt cared for as she sat behind bars, dreaming of freedom. The day that Alvin brought Smudge to visit her in her cell had been such a moment of hope. Melody wondered how Hillary was holding up.
“Alvin, I’m just going to check in at the shop.”
Alvin nodded and sprinted ahead for the food. Melody called Leslie’s cell and asked her not to be put on speakerphone.
“Leslie, I know you have everything handled. I just want to ask you if you have ever heard anything odd about Ruth.”
“Ruth? Same as you. Her staff complained about her all the time. Nothing too awful, though. They just hated how she was so strict with them.”
“Nothing about her hitting on any of them or making passes?”
“Never. What’s going on?”
Melody changed the subject, and Leslie filled her in on how the townspeople had been abuzz with the news of the murder. She learned that no one had anything too bad or too good to say about Ruth. Melody knew this was because Ruth mainly stayed at the inn, which would make her an easy target for Terrance’s lies. Smudge jumped up at Melody’s leg during the call, her tail wagging at Leslie’s voice. Each wag brought Melody a sense of happiness and peace. She ended the call certain that Terrance had a hand in Ruth’s stabbing.
Melody ate with the rest of the force still at the inn. When she had arrived at the pizza table, she was happy to see a warmer had been placed under the authentic Italian offering. The gooey cheese was incredible. The crust was razor-thin and flavored with just the right amount of garlic. For a man who studied in Italy, Chef Coleman’s chili would win any cook-off in America. It was so meaty, a good heat level, and with a hint of sweetness that took Melody a moment to recognize. She almost laughed when she figured out it was pistachio paste.
Once the tables were cleared, Alvin summoned Shawn to the back of the room for a few questions. The food had calmed Alvin down considerably, much like a walk always did for Melody. Alvin asked him a few warmup questions and then asked if it was true that Shawn had a romantic relationship with Ruth and if he felt that gave him a claim to the property?
“Sherriff, I honestly don’t know what you are talking about. There was no relationship between Ruth and me. I am just a server here. I couldn’t even imagine I would have a claim with Ruth dead or alive. She was a tough boss, and I was one of the few who did the job to her satisfaction. It got to the point where she was ready to promote me, but a claim like that… I don’t even know what to say.”
“If you don’t know what to say about that, tell us about your relationship with Hillary,” Melody said.
“Hillary? She was a friend of my ex-girlfriend’s little sister. We were a casual fling at best. She is a really sweet girl, but she made everyone’s job harder in the short time she was here.”
“Do you think she murdered Ruth?” Alvin asked.
“Anything is possible. If she murdered Ruth because she was in love with me and threatened by that rumor about Ruth and me, her actions hurt me and everyone else here. I don’t know where I’ll get a job that allows me to play hockey and earn as much as I do here. Ruth was tough, but she was fair. Getting her to crack a smile was another job entirely.”
Melody raised any eyebrow at Shawn’s dismissiveness at his relationship with Hillary - to say the sweet girl was a casual fling at best hurt her heart. Hillary deserved much better than that. Every woman deserved much more than that. Melody reached down to get some comfort from Smudge. The bulldog seemed a bit distracted and pointed her paw back in the direction of the kitchen. Smudge deeply inhaled and exhaled. Melody knew she had caught a whiff of something she found interesting. She asked Smudge what she knew. The dog yipped in response and dragged Melody to the kitchen with Alvin following close behind them.
The scene before them was curious, indeed. Chef Coleman was unpacking a new set of knives, each bigger than the last, wearing white gloves. He set them down on the counter carefully, touching each end to ensure they were as sharp as possible.
“Do you always unpack knives with white gloves?” Melody asked. Despite the noise they had made, he seemed enraptured with his task and jumped slightly as she spoke. “Did you wear white gloves when you stabbed Ruth? Maybe with another knife… but the same set of gloves?” Melody felt her heart quicken, was this the evidence they needed?
The haughty chef looked up and raised his nose. “Do you know nothing? This is how a professional chef would unpack knives, in Italy at least. It is how the inn will also do it as long as I am here.”
“That’s a great way to conceal fingerprints,” Alvin said, and Smudge wagged her stump of a tail and gave a little yip of agreement.
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Eight
“How dare you!” Chef Coleman yelled. “I loved Ruth deeply. She was a very difficult woman, but so passionate in her devotion to perfection that I had the deepest respect for her. She discovered me. In return, I allowed her to discover herself through me. She told me many times how she finally felt alive and understood only with me.”
Melody and Alvin shared a glance, and Melody felt her jaw drop open. Had he inferred that they were together?
“You should have seen my Ruth with her hair down. That bun hid her femininity. Did you know her hair reached her lower back?” Coleman laid another knife down with such reverence. It was super creepy. “DaVinci would have gladly painted her instead of Mona Lisa. She was my Mona Lisa, perfect in her imperfections. Ruth Bronwyn was my very own masterpiece.”
Chef Coleman sighed, and the fire went out of him. Despondent, he looked at his feet.
Melody fought the temptation to hug him. His despair was now palpable. She knew what it was like to have a broken heart. Chef Coleman cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, turning them bright red. He paced away from the knives and looked around at the kitchen. There was a pallor to his face. It was as if he saw the ghost of Ruth just out of arm’s reach. Melody was sure he was flashing back to all the good times they shared in that kitchen. Melody thought of the interesting dynamic between the two of them. Artists had often needed a patron throughout the centuries, one that helped them escape poverty and brought a spotlight to their name. The Medici’s had sponsored DaVinci and other Renaissance artists, bringing them great comfort in exchange for the Medici family name being immortal as long as humans walked the planet. Ruth must have felt that she was bringing a gift to Port Warren with an Italian-trained chef to shake up the monotony of the restaurant scene. Melody knew that anything too exotic was a hard sell with some of the locals. She had once tried a dragon fruit pastry. It was such a flop that she didn’t try to experiment again for six months afterward.
