One Potato, Two Potato, Dead

by Lynn Cahoon

  Felicia laughed. “And you think I’m a perfectionist. Just keep your phone handy and stay out of alleyways. Where are you meeting in case you don’t show up and I have somewhere to send the police to start looking for you?”

  After Angie hung up with Felicia, she wondered if this was stupid. One, if the guy was just looking for female companionship, she was dating Ian and off the market. But she had told him that and he still wanted to meet. He was looking for something more than just information on the caves. Now all Angie had to do was figure it out.

  She parked in front of the building on the street. The owners of the Library had taken an old house just off Main Street and turned its rooms into book-filled heaven. The coffee bar was in what had been the kitchen, and all the other rooms were filled with homey furniture, bookshelves stuffed with books, and places to sit and get lost in a story for a while. Books were on a loan system. You bring one, you take one, it didn’t matter. She’d found this place just after she’d moved back and had spent a lot of time just sitting and dreaming while she and Felicia developed the concept for the County Seat.

  “Hey, Chris,” she called out to the morning barista. “Large hazelnut with one of your peanut butter cookies, please.”

  The woman looked up from what she was doing behind the bar. “Hey, Angie! I haven’t seen you in here for weeks. I hear the County Seat is rocking. Everyone’s talking about it.”

  “You haven’t stopped in?” She pulled out money to pay along with a business card. “Call Felicia and we’ll get you a reservation.”

  Chris took the money and the card. “I just broke up with the most recent loser, but I bet my sister would love this. I’ll set up a date soon.”

  “Thanks.” Angie glanced around the almost empty coffee shop. “You haven’t seen a guy in here waiting for me, have you?”

  “Ian?” Chris looked confused. “No, he’s not here.”

  Angie smiled. Small towns. “Not Ian, I’ve got a meeting with a professor about the find out at Celebration Park.”

  “You’re the first customer I’ve had since the pre-work rush.”

  Angie glanced at her watch. She was early. “I’ll be in by the fireplace if he shows. I’ll give him a few minutes.”

  She got settled on the couch and found a new Robyn Carr book she hadn’t read. She was just finishing up the first chapter when she heard a man’s voice in the coffee bar area. She kept reading, but when she saw the shadow cross over her, she put a bookmark in her place and slipped the book in her purse.

  “This place is great. I wish they had one at home. I would spend all my time here.” He sat across from her and pushed a plate of cookies toward her. “I couldn’t decide which one I wanted, so I got one of each. Take one.”

  Angie grabbed a second cookie, this time a fudge and vanilla striped sugar. It was her second favorite. “So, what do you want to know about the caves?”

  “Right down to business, huh?” Evan sipped his coffee and took out a notebook. “So how long have you lived here?”

  “What does that have to do with the petroglyphs?” She studied him closely. His clothes looked way too put together to be a researching professor. And he was wearing brand-new tennis shoes. Now, how did he go hiking and cataloging remote sites and not get his feet dirty? “When did you buy your shoes?”

  He frowned and looked down at the sneakers. “I just picked them up at the mall here. My old ones were falling apart.”

  Okay, that was logical. Or at least plausible. She leaned back and waited for the next question.

  “I was asking about your residence time here to get a feel for your historical knowledge of the area. I’d heard you just opened your restaurant this year.” He glanced back down at his shoes, apparently jolted by the question. “I’ll just go on. Had you ever heard of petroglyphs in the area?”

  That wasn’t what he planned to ask as his second question. Angie was sure of that. “My grandmother told me stories of the people who used to roam the area. But it was all about how they were the original owners of the land and how we could learn a lot by studying their culture. When did you hear about the cave?”

  This time, her question didn’t take him by surprise. He was finding his rhythm with her tactics. “I thought I told you that. We got a call from the local university about authenticating the site. I’m here for the pre-work.”

  “Oh.” Angie sipped her coffee, letting the silence fill the space between them. He broke first.

  “I hear your restaurant is something else. It must take a big team to run it. Where did you get qualified help?”

  She broke another cookie in half. “Now we’re talking about my hiring process? I’m really confused.” She waved the half a cookie at him. “Do you want to stop the dance and tell me why you’re really here and what you’re looking for? Are you investigating Daniel Monet’s death?”

  A flash of anger filled his eyes but was gone before Angie could even confirm the emotion. It could have been surprise. Either way, she’d hit him full in the secret mission status of his interview.

  “Daniel Monet? Oh, he was that professor that was killed. I don’t know why you think I’m some sort of investigator. I study Native American art.”

  And I’m an expert on the Queen of England’s wardrobe choices. She finished the cookie. “Seems strange that you just showed up right after his death.”

  “Boise is not that small. I could have been here for a number of reasons.” He studied her and the focus made her uncomfortable. “Besides, if you think I’m involved in this, how do you know I didn’t kill the guy?”

  “I don’t.” She didn’t feel as strong as her voice sounded. “But if you had killed him, you wouldn’t have stayed around, making it easy for the police to find you.”

  “Good point.” He glanced at his watch. “I really do need to be working on the survey for the cave, so if we’re done playing what’s my line, I guess I’ll go find people who want to talk to me.”

  She watched him take his coffee and step toward the door. “Hold up, Evan.”

  He turned toward her, hope filling his face. “Yeah?”

  “You forgot your cookies.” She pointed to the plate. “Chris will probably put those in a bag for you.”

  “You take them.” He spun back around and out the side door.

  Chris came and stood by Angie as they watched him pull out his phone and then get into a black SUV parked on the street. “Man, that guy is razor-edge focused. You seemed to get under his skin, though. You sure you’re not looking to replace your English fella?”

  “I’m sure, but I don’t think Evan was here looking for a date or information about old Native American artwork.” She thought about what Evan might have really wanted as he drove away. At least with him gone, she wouldn’t have to worry about someone attacking her before she got in the car. It was just Meridian, for goodness sake.

  Chris went back to the cash drawer and pulled out a receipt. She held out the paper to Angie. “You might want to take a picture of this. I don’t know if you can trace it. I heard you call him Evan, but his credit card says Robert.”

  Chapter 15

  Felicia meet her at the kitchen door when she arrived at the County Seat. “I’ve been worried about you. It’s been an hour since you texted that you were leaving Meridian. Where did you go?”

  “I stopped by the police station and told Sheriff Brown about Evan or Robert or whatever his name was.” Angie glanced around the still-empty kitchen. “Come into the office and I’ll tell you all about how stupid our sheriff thinks I am.”

  Felicia followed her into the office and shut the door. “Don’t tell me he didn’t think the guy was weird.”

  “He thought it served me right for trying to be an investigator. Seriously, he’s all up in my face about meeting strangers to talk about things that aren’t any of my business.” Angie opened a desk drawer
and dumped her purse inside. “I think he was hiding something. Did you ever notice that guys get defensive when they’re hiding something?”

  “I haven’t noticed that with all guys. Todd, yes, he used to rip my head off anytime I brought up a subject he didn’t want to talk about. Like money.” Felicia sank into a chair. “Maybe you’re just seeing the red car.”

  Angie grabbed two bottles of water out of the mini-fridge in her office. She held one out to Felicia. “The red car?”

  “Yeah, it’s some psychobabble about how when you’re focusing on something, like buying a red car, that’s all you see. So since you think all men get defensive when they’re hiding something…”

  “That’s all I see.” Angie sank into her chair. “You might be right. Did I tell you that I’m having dinner with Sheriff Brown, his wife, and Ian on Sunday? Shoot me now.”

  “That might be the other reason you’re seeing red cars. It’s a known fact that when you’re stressed about things, you don’t see reality, you see what you want to see.” Felicia opened the water and drank half of it. “I really should hydrate more.”

  “You’re just full of all of these theories today. What exactly have you been reading lately?” Angie eyed her partner suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’re going back to school to become a counselor.”

  “No. I hated school the last time I attended. There’s no way I’m going back.” Felicia wouldn’t meet Angie’s gaze.

  “So where’s all the psychology fun facts coming from?” Although Angie thought she knew the answer.

  “I’m helping Taylor study for his master’s. He has a really hard time getting into the books they’re assigning, so I’m reading them too and then we discuss.” Felicia studied her nails. “It’s not like I’m taking his tests or anything. I’m just helping.”

  Angie studied her friend. Felicia was hot or cold with men. Either she was just casually dating, usually in a group, or she was all in. Like she was with Taylor. Working at his shelter, helping him study, reading his textbooks. “Let me ask a question, and you don’t have to answer, just think about it. When was the last time Taylor did anything just for you?”

  Felicia opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. Then she shook her head. “It’s not like that. Taylor’s very busy. He’s got people who depend on him.”

  Holding up a hand to ward off the excuses, Angie shook her head. “I told you, I don’t need the answer. But I think you do.”

  They sat in silence for a minute as they finished their water. “I do think you’re stressed about meeting Ian’s parental figures.”

  “And I wouldn’t disagree with you there. I’m going to have to figure out what to bring. Nona always said never come to someone’s home empty-handed. But if I make a dessert and she’s already made one, I look like I think I’m a better baker than she is.”

  “You probably are.” Felicia shrugged. “What? We run a restaurant. She’s probably afraid that you’re going to criticize her food. Why don’t you just call her and see what she’d like you to bring? That way, she’s forewarned and you don’t step on toes.”

  “Why do you always think of the simplest solution to everything?” Angie threw her bottle in the trash. “And the best solution.”

  Angie opened her computer and saw the email from Reana. “Oh, and I told someone they could get a reservation no matter what. I’m going to send you this email and can you see if you can fit them in?”

  “You’re wanting a miracle. We’re booked for six solid weeks.” Felicia checked the reservation calendar on her tablet. “What day?”

  Angie recited off the day and preferred time. Reana’s instructions were detailed down to the letter. “Maybe if we have to, we could set up a chef’s table here in the kitchen?”

  “Are you sure? You really don’t like people watching you cook.”

  “It’s going to happen sometime. And maybe I’ll get as pumped as Estebe does during the cooking school classes.” She shrugged and laughed at the look on Felicia’s face. “It could happen.”

  “Doubtful.” She glanced at her watch. “Anyway, I need to get going. Anything else I need to know about tonight’s service? Did you invite the local football team to come sit at the bar?”

  “No.” Angie was lost in the list of dishes they had to prep for. “But maybe we should have a Feed a Teacher table when it slows down. That could be our own form of community service.”

  She could feel Felicia’s stare before she even looked up. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

  “Actually, no, it’s a great idea. I’m always just shocked when you come up with these on the fly.” Felicia made a note on her tablet. “I’ll put it on next week’s planning meeting and I’ll start blocking off a table.”

  “I said when we slow down.” Angie turned and stared at her. “And why are you shocked if I have a good idea?”

  “Marketing isn’t your strong suit. A lot of teachers would think we’re out of their price line, but if we get them in here, they’ll be hooked on the food and won’t worry about the price, at least for special occasions.”

  “Marketing using the old drug dealer mantra, ‘first one’s on me’?” Angie scribbled her last note and stood with the notebook.

  “Model what works, I’ve always believed.” Felicia paused at the door. “Have you seen Hope since last weekend?”

  “No, and I’m getting more and more worried about her. I’m not sure the police are really looking for another suspect. Hope fits their theory. She killed him in a fit of rage because Daniel wasn’t ready for a full-time commitment. But if that’s the motive, Hope’s not the only potential suspect they should be looking at.”

  “Besides, I don’t think the girl knows rage. She’s a mini version of Mary Poppins. All sunshine and light.”

  But Hope wasn’t exhibiting the sunshine and light as she came into the kitchen later that day. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Estebe caught Angie’s gaze. They were both worried about her. He put down his knife and went over to talk to the new arrival.

  When they were done, Angie told Hope she needed to work with Estebe as they were doing some new recipes today. She tried to sound casual, but even she heard the hesitation in her words. “I’d like your opinion on how these recipes worked for us tonight. Are they too time-consuming to prep? Or is this better than something we have on our standing rotation? I need to hear your comments. This kitchen isn’t just me telling you what to do.”

  “Well, it kind of is.” Matt paused in his chopping when everyone stopped and looked at him. “You made the recipes, right?”

  “Matt,” Estebe warned, but Angie cut him off.

  “You know what, you’re right. So from now on, each of you is responsible for bringing one new recipe to our monthly family meal. Rotate the responsibility. Hope, would you bring something for our next meal?”

  Hope dropped the pan she’d been setting up on the cook line. “Wait, you want me to present a recipe too? Just like the chefs?”

  “You are part of our team, right?” She waited for Hope to smile and was surprised when the girl started crying. “Oh, no, did you hurt yourself?”

  “No.” Hope sobbed as everyone gathered around her.

  Angie looked at Estebe, who was staring at Hope, wide eyed. He shook his head indicating he didn’t know what was wrong either. She put a hand on Hope’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’ve just been so nice. Even with this whole murder investigation thing going on, you just treat me like I’m one of the team.” She glanced around at the four others. “Thank you.”

  “You are part of the team. And I don’t believe you could have killed Daniel or anyone else.” Nancy hugged Hope quickly. “Buck up, girl, things will get better.”

  “Yes, listen to Nancy.” Estebe patted Hope’s arm. “You are a good girl.”

  “So, it’s
settled. We’ll start this up at the next family meal. You have three weeks to figure out what you’d put on the menu if you were head chef. And just to keep it fair, it has to be seasonal and something the County Seat could add to the menu. Which means the majority of the ingredients need to be local.” Angie thought that about covered the rules.

  “I know exactly what I’m going to present.” Matt grinned and returned to his work. “Can I go next?”

  “That’s up to Estebe.” When he looked at Angie, the fear on his face made her laugh.

  “I don’t understand.” Estebe stepped away from the group, looking for a way to escape.

  “Don’t worry, I just want you to head up this project. Would you handle the scheduling? I’d like to do at least two rounds before we reevaluate the process.” Angie picked up the pot that Hope had dropped on the floor and put it on the dishwasher station. “Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s get ready for service. What else needs to be done?”

  When they broke for a quick meal before service, Estebe sat next to her at the kitchen table. The rest of the group were still milling around, getting their food finished. Matt was grilling burgers for the women and entertaining them with tales from his past.

  “You did a good thing. Thinking about the recipe will keep her mind occupied during this trial. You are a good person, Angie Turner.” He handed her the plate he’d made for her and then sat next to her to eat.

  “I worry about her. She’s usually so tough. This has her questioning everything about herself.” Angie dug into the chicken dish that Estebe had made for their dinner. “They need to close this case, and soon. Before she totally freaks out.”

  “The justice system takes time to do the job right. You wouldn’t want someone to rush to a decision here. The longer it takes, the better it is for our Hope. At least that’s what my cousin says. He said if they had anything solid, they would have already arrested her for the murder.”

  The other three moved toward the table and Angie glanced over toward them, hoping that Estebe had heard them coming as well. She didn’t have to worry. He nodded at her, understanding the conversation was over. He stood as the other three sat. “I’m getting water bottles. Who wants one?”