Andy saw Schuler to the door then returned to the living room. Looking quizzical, he said, “Is it just me, or does it seem like Schuler is enjoying this investigation way too much?”
Four
By the next morning, it seemed every Artisans Alley vendor—and just about everybody else Katie had met since arriving on Victoria Square—wanted to talk about the “accident.” The Alley’s landline kept ringing, and the texts to Katie’s cell phone kept coming like a nonstop interrogation. Finally, she asked Rose to handle the calls and “tell them whatever you think will make them go away.” She also turned her cell phone to vibrate and gained instant peace and quiet.
A gentle knock at the doorjamb caused Katie to look up. Sue Sweeney stood in the doorway, white-knuckling the handle of a small basket filled with an assortment of cellophane-wrapped candies. Sue’s pallid face stood out against the dark hair that framed it.
Katie pushed her chair away from her desk and stood. “Sue? Is everything all right?”
“I just feel so awful. This whole mess with Ken Fenton’s death is my fault.”
Katie directed Sue to the chair beside her desk. “What are you talking about? What mess?”
“If I hadn’t put up a fuss about the tattoo parlor at the Merchants Association meeting on Wednesday evening, none of this would have happened. Ken would be fine, and we’d all be going about our business.”
“Sue, you don’t know that,” Katie said, patting the woman’s arm. She sat back down. “Why do you feel that way?”
“If I hadn’t piped up and complained, Ray wouldn’t have gone over to the vacant building and gotten in a fight with Ken. And now Ken is dead.” She shook her head. “And the truth is that I couldn’t have cared less about a tattoo parlor—it was Paul Fenton I didn’t want here on Victoria Square.”
“So . . . you know Paul Fenton?” Katie took a peppermint from the jar on her desk and offered one to Sue, who declined. And why not? She made her own, which were infinitely better than the commercial mints Katie kept on hand. Katie unwrapped hers and popped it in her mouth.
“Not personally,” Sue said. “But he dated my niece about a year ago. She broke up with him when he became an abusive jerk.”
“Oh no. Sue, I’m sorry to hear that.” Katie didn’t say so, but it appeared to her that a hair-trigger temper ran in the Fenton family. Of course, she hadn’t been there when Ken had punched Ray, but she knew Ray wouldn’t have gone to speak with Ken in an aggressive manner.
Sue released her death grip on the basket in order to raise a hand to wipe a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “I feel responsible for Ken’s death.”
“Sue, we have no idea what happened with the saw Ken was using. Unless you know something I don’t.”
“I know the police have questioned Ray.”
Katie ground the peppermint between her molars. “That doesn’t mean Ray is guilty.”
Sue shrugged. “It doesn’t mean he’s innocent, either.” She stood and placed the basket on the corner of Katie’s desk. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Ray would’ve wanted you to get hurt.”
“And he wouldn’t have wanted Ken to get hurt, either,” Katie said. “I know Ray Davenport, and he’s not a killer.”
Sue nodded, shoved the basket into Katie’s hands, then turned and left.
Katie stood. “Wait, you—” Her phone vibrated. For an instant, she was torn between wanting to further defend Ray and the impulse to answer her phone. She glanced at the number. Caller ID said it was unknown, and Katie hoped it was an answer to one of her classified ads for the tea shop manager.
Holy crap! She’d completely forgotten about the tea shop and hadn’t gone over to get things ready for the lunch trade. She grabbed the phone. “Artisans Alley. This is Katie; can I help you?”
“Good morning. My name is Brad Andrews. Nick Ferrell told me you’re looking for someone to manage your tea shop.”
“Yes, Mr. Andrews, I am.”
“Are you available to see me at Tealicious in one hour?” he asked.
Relief coursed through her. “I’ll be there.”
* * *
—
The instant Katie saw the tall, broad-shouldered, blond man standing in the center of the dining room at Tealicious, Pachelbel’s Canon in D major began to play. She thought she was imagining the tune because the man was downright beautiful. But, no, the music was coming from him.
“Mr. Andrews?” she asked.
“Yes.” He held up his phone. “Lovely classical music—that’s what should be playing in here. Not this soft pop drivel.”
“Okay.” Katie had allowed Janine to choose the music because the young woman had lobbied so hard for it, it had made her happy, and the customers appeared to enjoy it. Katie had to agree, however, that the song streaming from Brad’s phone was much more pleasing than the one currently playing over the tea room’s speakers.
“I’m glad we’re in agreement. Otherwise, I’d have to turn down your job offer.” He smiled, shut off the music, and returned the phone to his pocket.
“I’ve not yet made you a job offer, Mr. Andrews.”
“Call me Brad. And you know you’re going to offer me this position because no one is more qualified than me.”
“That remains to be seen.” She nodded toward the stairs and her attic office. “Follow me.”
As they passed the door to the kitchen, Katie saw that Janine was peeking through the small glass window, watching them. Had she been eavesdropping as well?
Within five minutes of meeting him, Katie had moved past Brad’s arrogant demeanor and had downgraded him to self-assured. Within fifteen minutes, he’d impressed her so thoroughly she was ready to offer him the job.
But first, she had to know: “Why do you want to work at Tealicious? With your credentials, you could work at any five-star restaurant or hotel in the country.”
“True, and as you can see from my résumé, I have worked for some of the finest establishments in the state. But the stress nearly killed me.” He lowered his gaze to his hands. “I began drinking . . . too much and too frequently.”
“Did your drinking interfere with your job performance?” Katie asked, keeping her voice neutral.
He let out a breath. “It was starting to . . . so I quit and checked myself into rehab.” He met her gaze again. “I’m one-hundred-twenty days sober.”
Katie gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “Congratulations.”
He looked at her steadily, his dark blue eyes never wavering. “Well?”
“Welcome to Tealicious. Why don’t we go meet the staff?”
Janine had stationed herself near the tea room’s register. Her ponytail was gone, and her dirty-blonde hair hung around her shoulders. She’d also put on a fresh coat of lipstick.
“Ah, Janine. I’d like to you meet Tealicious’s new manager, Chef Andrews.”
Janine’s eyelids fluttered and she offered her hand. “Very nice to meet you.”
“My pleasure,” Brad said.
Katie was about to turn away when Janine spoke up. “Uh, Katie. I just wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking it over and I may have been a little hasty in my decision not to stay on as a server. I’ll be more than happy to remain here in the shop until school starts in September.”
Katie gave the young woman the warmest of smiles, and said, “That’s all right, Janine. We’ll be just fine.”
* * *
—
Katie couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as she returned to Artisans Alley. Brad would be starting on Monday, and she felt confident he would be a wonderful asset to Tealicious. Plus, as petty as it was to admit, after Janine had quit so abruptly, Katie wasn’t about to allow her to stick around and make doe eyes at Brad.
As soon as she walked into Artisans Alley, however, a gray cl
oud settled over her usually sunny disposition. Detective Schuler stood by the main cash desk waiting for her.
“Detective Schuler, are you finding everything okay?” She knew he wasn’t at Artisans Alley to shop, but she couldn’t resist goading him a bit, especially since he seemed so eager to point a finger of guilt at Ray Davenport.
“I’m afraid I’m here on official business, Ms. Bonner. May we speak in your office?”
“Of course.” Katie ignored Rose’s worried frown and led Detective Schuler through the Alley’s main showroom to her office.
“It’s kinda warm in this place, don’t you think?” Schuler asked as they walked. “Don’t you guys have air-conditioning?”
“We do, actually, and it’s not as hot today as it was yesterday.”
Once in her office, Katie turned on the fan and sat in her office chair. Schuler refused her offer to let him sit in her visitor’s chair.
“Our tech team has examined the saw that killed Ken Fenton,” he said with no preamble. “Someone tampered with it. It was rigged to shock him as soon as he turned it on.”
“I wish you’d mentioned that before I switched on the fan,” Katie said and glowered. “We might have a serial electrocutioner in Victoria Square.”
“Oh, I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Ms. Bonner, because you’re friends with . . . well, with a lot of people who have extensive knowledge of electrical processes.”
“Such as?”
“Such as Ray Davenport, Vance Ingram—”
“Hold on. Just because Ray and Vance are skilled woodworkers doesn’t mean they’re expert electricians.”
“True,” Schuler agreed. “But who else do you know who had a grudge against Ken Fenton and might have sufficient electrical knowledge to rig that saw to kill him?”
“For one thing, I don’t know a single soul who had a grudge against Ken Fenton. Furthermore, I couldn’t even begin to fathom how much electrical proficiency one would have to have in order to purposefully electrocute another person.”
“So, you’re saying you don’t know?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Schuler took his notebook from his breast pocket. He removed the pen he’d clipped to it and dictated as he wrote: “Friday at eleven twenty-two a.m. Katie Bonner denies knowledge of any personal grudges against Ken Fenton and-slash-or anyone with the ability to weaponize electrical current.” He replaced the pen and slipped the notebook back in his pocket. “You will call me if you’re enlightened about either of those circumstances, won’t you, Ms. Bonner?”
Katie’s eyes narrowed. “Immediately.”
He stood. “See that you do. And, in the meantime, I’d check all my electrical cords before turning on anything,” he said, seeming to change his tune. “You just never know.”
* * *
—
Nearly forty-five minutes after speaking with Detective Schuler, Katie was still fuming. Briskly walking the three blocks to Del’s Diner hadn’t quelled her ire. She had actually liked the deputy before he’d been promoted.
The diner’s interior was cool and a welcome change from the harsh noon sun and Katie slid in the booth just as Andy walked through the door. He came over, leaned down, and gave her a brief kiss.
“How are you, Sunshine?”
“I’d say I’m ready for the weekend, but since we don’t have Saturdays and Sundays off like regular people, would you consider running away with me?” Katie asked.
Andy plunked down opposite her. “Your morning has been that bad?”
“It didn’t start out that way.” That wasn’t entirely true, but she told him about hiring Nick’s friend to be Tealicious’s new manager. “And he’ll start on Monday, so that’s fantastic. But when I returned to Artisans Alley, Detective Schuler was there. Ken Fenton’s death has officially been ruled a homicide since it was evident that someone tampered with the saw’s wiring so it would shock Ken when he turned it on.”
“After yesterday, we were expecting that, though. Weren’t we?”
“We were. But this morning, Schuler asked me who I knew who had both a grudge against Fenton and knowledge about electrical processes. I said no one.”
“He’s going after Davenport in a big way.”
“Not only Ray. He mentioned Vance, too,” Katie said.
Andy blinked. “Vance? No way.”
Katie started. “So you’d believe Ray is actually capable of murder, but not Vance?”
Andy didn’t have an opportunity to answer because Sandy, the waitress, arrived to take their order. After requesting a grilled cheese sandwich and a slice of coconut cream pie, Katie decided that if Andy didn’t pick the thread of their conversation back up, neither would she. The thought of either Vance or Ray killing anyone was laughable, so she didn’t feel the topic was worth debating.
That said, when her lunch arrived, Katie didn’t feel like eating. Still, she managed to choke down half the sandwich during their innocuous chitchat, and then asked for the rest of her order to go. And she insisted on picking up the check. At that moment, she wanted nothing from Andy other than goodwill—and right then, she wasn’t at all sure he was willing to give it.
* * *
—
Katie declined Andy’s offer to drive her back to Artisans Alley, and instead power walked the distance—her mind set on her next course of action. Instead of returning directly to Artisans Alley, Katie went to Wood U to talk to Ray. Even though Schuler had included Vance in his suspect list, he’d made it clear the evening before that he believed Ray was responsible for Ken Fenton’s murder. Or, even if he didn’t entirely believe it, he wanted Ray to be guilty. Katie wondered what had happened to cause such animosity between the two men. Maybe Ray would tell her. Either way, she felt she should warn him.
When she entered the building, Ray’s balding pate shone under the halogen lighting as he bent over an intricate carving of an eagle.
“Be right with you,” he said, without looking up.
“Take your time,” Katie said.
Sasha, Ray’s youngest daughter, came out of the back with a small chisel in hand. “Dad, is this the one you need?” The teenager abruptly stopped upon seeing Katie.
“Hi, Sasha,” Katie said.
Sasha didn’t reply until Ray prompted her to do so.
Six months before, Katie had been wildly popular with the three Davenport girls. Then Katie had discovered Sasha was taking diet pills and had informed Ray. The middle daughter, Sadie, had decided that Katie was trying to take their mother’s place. And all it had taken for Katie to lose the oldest girl’s affection was to hire Janine as the manager of Tealicious. Katie hadn’t known that Sophie and Janine had played on different high school volleyball teams and were bitter rivals. Sophie had, at one point, been eager to do her summer internship at Tealicious. But, thanks to Katie’s hiring Janine—which turned out to be a horrible decision anyway—Sophie was interning elsewhere. Katie had forgotten how easily the admiration of teenage girls could be won or lost.
Now Sasha glared at Katie as she handed the chisel to her father.
“Ray, since Sasha is here to watch the shop, could you walk with me for just a minute?”
Sasha rolled her blue eyes and blew out a breath.
Ray arched his brow in his daughter’s direction, as though to admonish her, before turning to Katie. “Sure. I could use a break. Let’s go.”
Once they were in the parking lot, Katie said, “I’m sorry to pull you away from your work like that, but I didn’t want Sasha to hear this.”
“Let me guess—Schuler paid you a visit?”
“Two, actually. One last night and another this morning. Ken Fenton’s death has been ruled a homicide. The saw was rigged to shock Ken as soon as he turned it on.”
“Yeah, I already knew that from one of the guys I
used to work with at the Sheriff’s Office.”
“Why is Schuler so . . . ?” She trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence.
“Why is he so determined to pin this murder on me?”
“Yes.”
Ray sighed. “Before I retired, the sheriff asked me if I thought Schuler would make a good replacement for me. I said no. He didn’t have the necessary experience. It was my honest opinion.”
“Then how did he get the job?” Katie asked.
“His family has some clout with the county executive. The guy I recommended for the job wound up quitting and going to another county in the Southern Tier.”
“But would Schuler hold such a huge grudge against you that he’d try to pin a murder rap on you? That doesn’t make sense.”
He shrugged. “People seldom if ever make sense, Katie.”
“I can believe that. Sue Sweeney came by my office this morning. She said the real reason she didn’t want Paul Fenton opening a shop in Victoria Square was that he was abusive to her niece when they were dating.”
“The loose-cannon gene must be hereditary . . . and it appears to run on both sides of that family,” Ray said with chagrin.
Katie frowned and turned to see the heat shimmer off Victoria Square’s vast asphalt parking lot. “Why do people have to be so mean?” She heard Ray sigh and turned her gaze back to him.
“It’s human nature,” he said simply.
“That’s not the way I was brought up—the way I feel,” she declared.
He sported a cockeyed smile. “You’re a good person, Katie. You want—and expect—the best of everyone.”
“Is that unreasonable?”
Ray shrugged. “These days . . . maybe.”
Katie frowned. “I’m not about to change the way I operate—no matter what kind of world we live in.”
Ray grinned. “And I wouldn’t expect anything less of you.”
Murder Ink Page 4
