by Jessica Beck
“That was your idea, remember?”
“I know, but she could be playing some kind of intricate ruse. If she killed Tom and stole that money, what better way to cover her tracks than by publicly claiming to know something that no one else does? If she is the murderer, she would know that she wasn’t risking anything by claiming to know who killed Tom Johnson, would she?”
“So just like that, she goes back on our list,” Grace said. “Fine. I’m easy. That leaves us four again.”
“With time running out,” I reminded her.
“By the way, that was a brilliant move backing the three of them into agreeing to help with the donutmaking demonstration after the signing,” Grace said. “Did you plan that out, or did you just come up with it on the spot?”
“It was a stroke of inspiration created out of desperation,” I admitted. “Do you think it will help our cause?”
“I don’t see how it could hurt,” Grace said. After glancing at her watch, she added, “We’ve got forty-five minutes before your donutmaking demonstration. What would you like to do with our time?”
“I say we hunt Gregory Smith and Cindy Faber down, if we can manage to find both of them,” I said. “They’re the only two I haven’t really pushed yet.”
“Then lead on,” she said.
We found Gregory just leaving Hannah’s line clutching three of her books protected in glassine envelopes. “I’ve got three more for my collection,” he said happily as he kept staring at them.
“How many does that make?” I asked him.
“Eighty-two, all total,” he said proudly. “There are lots of multiples, of course, but you can’t have too many of your favorite author’s books, especially when they’re autographed. Look at poor Tom Johnson’s fans. They’ll never get the opportunity to buy a personally signed book from him ever again.”
I for one didn’t see the point of it, but I wasn’t going to point that out to him. I loved reading some of my favorite books over and over again, but I’d never seen the need to have more than one copy at any time. I could see the appeal of having an autographed book or two on my bookshelf, but he’d clearly taken his collection well beyond that.
“Wow, that’s just crazy,” Grace said.
Gregory’s head snapped around at her comment. “There’s nothing crazy about it. Having a hobby collecting things is perfectly normal. Would you feel that way if it were coins or stamps? Signed books are just as valid an avocation as anything.”
“When I said crazy, I didn’t mean insane,” Grace corrected herself as she stepped back. “I meant that I thought that it was amazing. I’m sorry. It was a poor choice of words on my part.”
He seemed mollified by her explanation, so we were good, at least for the moment. “Gregory, did you happen to speak with Tom Johnson last night after the author’s dinner at the Boxcar Grill?”
“Why on earth would I want to speak with him?” he asked.
“He was rude to Hannah onstage and afterwards,” I said. “And I know that you’re one of her greatest defenders.”
“If I’d been able to stick around, I might have, but unfortunately, I had to drive back home after the panel to take care of Hannah.”
“Hannah Thrush?” I asked him, confused by the sudden turn our conversation had taken.
“No, Thrush was fine, but Hannah needed her medicine, and I couldn’t be late,” he explained. “Hannah and Thrush are my cats.”
“And you named them after your favorite author,” Grace said as it all became clear.
“Why wouldn’t I? I have a photo of them on my phone, if you’d like to see them,” he said as he pulled out his cell phone and brought one up. It showed two Siamese cats looking at the camera with indifference at the photographer. “Look at the way Thrush is smiling. She’s amazing. Hannah’s been under the weather lately, and I’ve had to follow a rather rigorous schedule getting her the medicine she needs on time, but she’ll bounce back. I just know it.” His expression grew stormy for a moment as he said, “I nearly didn’t make it home in time to give her the meds last night. Your police chief gave me a ticket on my way out of town last night! What was he doing almost in Union Square?”
“His territory extends up to their city limits,” I explained. “What time was that?”
“I’m not sure exactly,” Gregory said as he put his phone away and pulled out his wallet. It showed the exact time of the ticket’s issuance, which meant that even if he had turned around and driven straight to April Springs, he couldn’t have made it back in time to rob me and kill Tom Johnson. After he put the ticket away, he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get these into the cooler in the back of my car before anything happens to them.”
“Go right ahead,” I said.
After he was gone, I turned to Grace. “So, your boyfriend has just accidentally alibied one of our suspects.”
“The town council has been on him to issue more tickets, and he hates giving them out to April Springs residents, so he’s been setting up his speed trap on the outermost reaches of his territory,” she explained.
“So now we’re down to Amanda, Hank, and Cindy,” I said.
“The Big Four have become the Big Three,” she agreed.
“Well, I’m going to be seeing Amanda and Hank in less than half an hour, so we need to go find Cindy and see if we can find out why she reacted so badly to Amanda’s news.”
We walked throughout the park, including making stops at each signing table and the place that Paige had set aside for Cindy’s presentation in our quest, but there was no sign of her anywhere. Amanda had been AWOL herself, but since we’d already spoken to her, I wasn’t going to let myself worry about that just yet.
“Where else can we look?” Grace asked me.
“Cindy had to have driven here, since she doesn’t live anywhere nearby. Let’s go to the city hall parking lot and see if we can find her car. Maybe she’s sitting in it composing herself before her reading.”
“Maybe,” Grace said. “It’s as good an idea as any, at any rate.”
We never made it to the parking area though, at least not right away.
As we neared city hall, we were nearly run over by one of our remaining suspects.
Chapter 22
“Amanda, where’s the fire?” I asked. “I thought you were supposed to be at the book signing. We were just at your table, but you weren’t there.”
“I was earlier, but then your police chief pulled me aside to talk to me. There were finally a few fans in my line that I hadn’t signed books for yet, but he insisted.”
“What did he want from you?” Grace asked her.
“He mostly wanted to know what I saw last night, but while he had me in that dungeon of an office of his, he demanded that I give him an alibi for the time of the murder, too.”
“What did you tell him?” I asked. It was clear that at least in this respect, Grace and I were on the same page as Chief Grant.
“I told him the same thing that I told the two of you. I made it all up as a stunt to grab a little attention. It was embarrassing to admit it to him, but I wasn’t about to try to keep the lie going just so I could keep from looking foolish.”
“Were you able to supply him with an alibi?” I asked her. “After all, you were seen near my shop around when the time of the murder occurred.”
“I told you, I was taking some extra books to Paige, a fat lot of good that did me. Just about everyone there today wanted a book signed by Tom Johnson or Hannah Thrush. Maybe the chief did me a favor. It was embarrassing sitting there with my anemic little line while she and that bookstore clerk got all of the attention.”
“About your alibi,” Grace prompted her.
“Oh, that. I was on my way to Charlotte when he was murdered,” she said.
“How can you possibly prove that?” I asked her.
“I got there in eighty-two minutes,” she said, “and I couldn’t do that and still have time to hang around to kill Tom, too. Besides, I was on the phone
with my agent the entire time, asking her why she couldn’t get me a deal for my fiction. We had a pretty extended conversation, and the chief called her right then and there and verified the fact that we’d been talking nonstop since before Tom was last seen alive. He even had the phone records checked to make sure we weren’t both lying to him, if you can believe that.”
“Why were you going to Charlotte,” I asked her, “since you just had to turn around and come back here today?”
“I wasn’t about to stay with those Nosy Rosies you put me up with. They wouldn’t stop asking me questions, and they even expected me to make one of my recipes for them. When I flatly refused, they got kind of snooty with me, so I decided I’d be better off someplace else.”
“Are you going back to finish up your signing and come to the donutmaking demonstration now that your interview with the police is over?” I asked her. “After all, your fans are expecting you.”
“Sorry, but my fans will just have to learn to live with a little disappointment. I was heading back to the festival to tell Paige that I was leaving, but you’ll do. I’d love to say that it’s been a real treat, but then we both know that I’d be lying, wouldn’t we? Can I get that honorarium before I go?”
“We’re going to mail it to you, just like we told you when you all got into town. Is the chief really okay with you leaving town?” I asked. If he was, it meant that he was satisfied that she hadn’t had anything to do with the murder. If she’d committed the robbery, and it was a completely different occurrence—which I sincerely doubted—then I was just going to be out of luck.
“Are you kidding? He urged me to take off,” she said. “You should have heard the scolding I got from him for what I said onstage. He told me that I was being reckless, and what was more, he couldn’t protect me from the real killer. That’s all I needed to hear to get out of this murderous little town.”
“Don’t go,” I said, thinking more of the festival at the moment than her safety.
“Sorry,” she called out as she headed back for the festival parking area.
“Should we follow her so we can try to persuade her to stay?” Grace asked.
I glanced at my watch. “There’s no time. We’ll just have to make do with Hannah and Hank. I have to get back right now if I’m going to lead the demonstration.”
“I can try by myself, if you’d like,” Grace said.
I took her hands in mine. “Grace, promise me that you won’t do anything without me. It’s too dangerous.”
“I’ll be fine. After all, what’s going to happen to me in broad daylight?”
“Grace, promise me.”
She didn’t look too happy about it, but she finally said, “Okay, fine, I’ll come back with you and watch your donut demonstration with your last two authors.”
“Good,” I said, suddenly feeling much better that Grace wouldn’t be taking any extraordinary chances without me. I knew full well that I hadn’t always followed my own advice, but sometimes in the past it just couldn’t be helped.
Besides, it was one thing to risk my life, and quite another to let Grace risk hers.
Thanks to Emma and Sharon, the stage was set as I walked up the steps. I glanced at my watch and saw that I’d made it with two minutes to spare, just enough time for me to look over what my gracious little helpers had prepped for me. Everything looked fine, but something drew my attention to the back of the stage area, away from the gathering crowd. Hank and Hannah were having some kind of argument, and I had to wonder if it had anything to do with Tom Johnson’s murder. I wanted to eavesdrop, but they suddenly looked up at the same time and spotted me watching them. I didn’t have any choice but to smile and wave them up onstage to join me. It was the best I could do, and besides, there were just ninety seconds left until it was time to get started anyway. I handed them both the aprons my little helpers had left there for them, and they reluctantly put them on before I got started. I’d put mine on the second I’d seen it onstage, so I was ready to go.
“I want to thank you all for sticking around for my donutmaking demonstration,” I told the crowd, who applauded politely. “In addition, let’s hear it for Hank and Hannah, who have agreed to join me today.”
Someone from the audience called out, “Where’s Amanda Harrison?”
“Unfortunately, she was called away unexpectedly at the last moment,” I explained.
“That’s funny, I saw her with the police chief,” someone else from the crowd shouted out. “Did he arrest her for murdering Tom Johnson?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. In fact, it is my understanding that the police have cleared her from any and all suspicion concerning the crime.” I wasn’t sure I should have been the one to disclose that, but at least it should stop the inquiries I was getting from the audience, and we could get on with our demonstration.
That statement managed to get a few tongues wagging anyway. Before I got any more impromptu questions, I decided that it was time to begin. “First, we’ll be showing you how easy it is to make cake donuts yourself at home. If I may, I’d like to ask Hank to give me a hand mixing the basic batter we use every day.”
“Sure,” Hank said reluctantly, “though I’ve never made donuts in cast iron before.”
“It’s as easy as can be,” I said, trying to smile to ease some of the obvious tension between my two guests. “In fact, you’ll be so good at it by the time we finish that you’ll be able to surprise someone you’re cooking for with these delightful treats for dessert.”
“There’s only one person I want to cook for,” he said pointedly as he stared at Hannah. “Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to be interested.”
Hannah looked a bit uncomfortable with him directing the statement at her, but she decided to address it right then and there. It wasn’t the donutmaking demonstration that I’d promised the crowd, but they were getting a show nonetheless. “As I told you before, I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. I’m going to focus on writing bigger and better books than I have in the past, so there won’t be a great deal of time for extracurricular activities.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Hank asked her in a huff. “You know what, Hannah? If you’re going to take that attitude, I don’t even know why I’ve been bothering with you.”
“If you recall, I asked you that exact same question not five minutes ago,” Hannah said.
“Forget it,” Hank said as he pulled his apron off and threw it onto the stage. “If that’s the way you really feel, then there’s no reason for me to stick around.”
He stormed off stage, and before I could say anything, Hannah followed him. “Hank, wait a second,” she called out. “We can’t leave things like this.”
“I don’t have a problem with it. Watch me walk away from you for a change of pace,” he said as he stormed away.
Hannah followed him, along with most of my audience. A few diehard donut fans remained, so I couldn’t exactly shut the demonstration down, but my heart wasn’t really in it as I continued. After all, the show must go on; at least that’s what I’d heard.
By the time I finished, three people were still watching, so I invited them onstage to taste the results of what I’d just made solo.
Only two of them agreed to sample my goodies, the other one drifting off the moment the demonstration was over.
I left the stage to find Grace waiting at the bottom of the steps for me.
“You did great,” she said, trying to pump me up.
“For a train wreck, I suppose,” I admitted.
“Come on. It wasn’t that bad.”
“It wasn’t exactly good, either, but at least it’s finished.” I glanced over at the spot where Cindy was supposed to be doing her reading, but there was no sign of her. “She didn’t show up?”
“No, and I’ve been looking all over for her in the crowd. I can’t imagine her giving up the spotlight willingly.”
“Unless she’s running away,” I said.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Grace said. “Let’s head back to the parking area and see if we can find her car.”
“I don’t know how we’re going to even know what she’s driving,” I said.
“Let me make a quick call,” she said as she pulled her cell phone out.
“Do you honestly think the chief of police is going to give you her license plate number?” I asked her.
“I don’t know, but what could it possibly hurt to ask?” Grace asked. After a few moments and some cajoling, she said, “Thanks, babe,” and hung up.
“He actually told you?”
“What can I say? I have a way with people.”
“Boyfriends especially,” I said. “What’s her license plate?” I asked as we hurried toward city hall and the temporary festival parking.
“You’re not going to believe this. Who knows? Maybe you will. It’s SINNNDY. Charming, isn’t it?”
“At least she doesn’t own two cats named Tom and Johnson,” I said.
“Or Janice and Davis,” Grace replied, noting one of the late author’s several pseudonyms.
“That’s a fair point,” I said as we neared the half-empty lawn. Apparently a great many of our fairgoers had already left, and I just hoped that Cindy had decided to stick around a little longer. “The chief didn’t happen to mention the make and model of her car too, did he?”
“It’s a yellow Subaru Forester,” Grace said. “That should be easy enough to find.”
Sure enough, we spotted her car near the exit. It was empty, at least of drivers or passengers, but that wasn’t what attracted our attention when we came upon it.
Barely tucked under the front seat, we could see a transparent shopping bag with money sticking out of it.
A great deal of money.
“What are you doing?” I asked Grace as she grabbed the door handle with her hand, using her top as a guard against leaving fingerprints.
“Don’t worry. I won’t disturb anything,” she said as the door swung open. Had Cindy actually left her car unlocked with all of that money in plain sight? “I just want to see how much is there.”
“I can hazard a guess,” I said. “We should leave it right where it is.”
