Birthday Cake and a Murder

by Kathleen Suzette

  Cade was gone by the time I finished with Sue and three other tables of customers. He never did tell me what he knew so far, but it was early in the investigation, so it wouldn’t have surprised me if he said it wasn’t much. What Sue said about Harry Adams was interesting. Was Harry just a grumpy old man that didn’t like to fall asleep to the sound of a strumming guitar? Or did he have a beef with Silas that went deeper than that? I wouldn’t exactly consider Harry and Silas coworkers when you took in the fact that Harry only worked a few hours a week as the janitor at the newspaper, so I couldn’t imagine how there could have been a work squabble that had spilled over into their personal lives. But there was something up with Harry and I needed to find out what.

  When the diner finally closed, I brought a plastic tub full of dirty dishes into the kitchen to Ron White, our dishwasher. “I hate to do this to you Ron, but I gotta,” I said as I set the tub on the counter near the sink.

  “You’re killin’ me smalls,” he said without turning around.

  “So what are you making for us this week Rainey?” Sam asked, turning to me from the grill. “I think I asked that earlier, and I didn’t get an answer.” He had rubber gloves on and was giving the grill the once over so it would be ready for tomorrow.

  “I don’t know. My mother suggested I make a birthday cake for mine and Stormy’s birthday, so maybe I’ll experiment with a recipe for a cake,” I said. My coworkers had gotten used to me bringing in food that I was creating for my new cookbook. It gave me lots of feedback and helped me develop my recipes. Sometimes Sam put the dishes on the menu for the customers to try out and give me their feedback.

  “Remind me. When is your birthday?” he asked.

  “September fifteenth.”

  “And I bet you’ll want the day off?” he said with a grin.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends on if Cade can get the day off or not. With another murder, he may not be able to and I may as well work it.”

  “Seems like murders follow you around,” Georgia grunted as she passed behind me and set her own tub of dirty dishes on the counter next to mine.

  “I don’t know what you mean by that,” I said. Georgia and I had issues. I wasn’t sure exactly what those issues were, but she enjoyed keeping them alive and well.

  She smirked. “It just seems odd that since you moved back to Sparrow, people are dropping like flies.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Right. Like the people arrested for those murders are all innocent and I’ve been getting away with murder. I’ve got work to do.”

  I huffed away and went back to the dining room floor. Georgia wasn’t worth the effort, and I wasn’t going to waste my time fretting over what she said.

  “Rainey, why is there another murder in town?” Luanne asked me, blinking her big brown eyes.

  “How should I know?” I asked, wiping down a table.

  “Georgia says you’re suspicious.”

  I sighed. “Georgia’s crazy. Listen, Luanne, did you happen to know Silas Mills?”

  “Yeah, sure. He was my cousin’s father-in-law. His daughter married my cousin John. I didn’t know him well, but he showed up at family things once in a while. Mostly he kept to himself.”

  “Really? He had a daughter? Do you think your cousin would know anything about him or what might have happened?” I asked, turning to her. Sue had said Silas didn’t have family, but Luanne was saying he had a daughter.

  “I doubt it. He’s dead. He had a terrible accident two years ago,” she said and picked up a tub of dirty dishes and headed to the kitchen.

  I bit my lower lip to keep from saying something unkind.

  ***

  “So, don’t hold out on me,” I said to Cade. “Tell me what you know about Silas.” We were snuggled up on my loveseat, a pizza on a wooden crate in front of us, and the TV turned on to a romantic comedy.

  “Not nearly enough. There was a raincoat in the dumpster out back and in the pocket was a cellphone that we’re working on getting dried out and unlocked. I’m hoping it belongs to Silas, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “A cell phone would be good. I bet it tells a lot. It would be even better if it belonged to the killer. Maybe they didn’t realize their phone was in the pocket when they tossed it,” I said and took a bite of the Hawaiian pizza on my plate.

  “If it belonged to the killer, it would be fantastic, but it would be a miracle if it was. They may have tossed it if it had blood on it,” he said and turned the channel to a football game.

  “Hey,” I said, giving him the eye.

  “That movie was a rerun. You’ll catch it the next time they run it,” he said nonchalantly.

  I sighed. “Maybe Silas got a text from the killer to meet him in my alley.”

  “I’m sure he did because alleys are where I always meet killers,” he said with a smirk.

  “You never know. What about those tire tracks? The big ones?” I asked him.

  “I took a cast of them and picked up the silver pen and also picked up the trash from the dumpster.”

  “Trash from the dumpster? You’re digging through it? Ew.”

  “I have a couple of officers looking through it right now, but yes, I’m taking a look at everything. Would you like to come down to the station and help sort it?”

  “Nope. I think I’m going to pass on that one. Thanks for the offer though.”

  “Just thought I’d ask,” he said. Maggie trotted in from the bedroom and stopped, staring at the two of us.

  “Well, where have you been?” I asked her.

  She yawned and her nose started twitching with the scent of the pizza.

  “She missed the delivery guy. That dog can sleep,” Cade said.

  “Except when she’s supposed to be sleeping. My neighbor isn’t a fan. Maggie was out barking again early this morning,” I said.

  “Did you check and see what she was barking about?” he asked, tossing Maggie a piece of his pizza. Maggie caught it in mid-air, chewed twice and swallowed, wagging her tail. She sidled up to him, begging for more with those big brown eyes of hers and a soft whine.

  “Sit, Maggie,” I said. Maggie complied but kept her eye on Cade’s pizza. “I didn’t check to see what she was barking about, I just called her in. She came right away, so whatever it was, it must not have been that interesting. My neighbor caught me as I was getting into my car and complained about her though.”

  “You make such an impression on people,” he said.

  “Smarty pants. I just can’t imagine why Silas would be in my alley when he lived across town. Wouldn’t he be closer to home if he was killed by someone local?”

  He shrugged and tossed Maggie another piece of pizza. “Who knows? The killer may have brought him here and dumped him or he may have been killed out there. Maybe it’s your cranky next-door neighbor? Did you ever think of that?”

  I gasped. “I hadn’t thought of that. He is cranky. Maybe Silas made him mad, and he killed him and dumped him behind my house.”

  “Maybe he’s trying to get Maggie blamed so she’ll get thrown into the slammer,” he suggested.

  “Maybe. I hate that we’ve got another murder on our hands,” I said.

  “Correction. I’ve got another murder on my hands. You’re just digging around and not getting involved.”

  “Right,” I said. But I needed an answer. Having a dead guy dumped behind my house made me feel like I needed to find the killer. Just in case someone seriously looked in my direction.

  Chapter Eight

  “What kind of cake do you want for our birthday, Stormy?” I asked as I measured flour into the bowl on the counter in front of me. I had been running through all kinds of options in my mind.

  “I don’t know. How about strawberry?” she said from the kitchen table. “And not fake strawberry. The real thing.” She stirred more sugar into her tea.

  “I can do strawberry. I think I’m going to make it a layer cake so we can each have our own flavor.”

&nbs
p; “I like key lime,” Mom said, her feet up on a box that hadn’t been unpacked yet.

  “It’s not your birthday. I’m thinking something like an orange chiffon for my layer,” I said and poured vanilla extract into a measuring spoon. Vanilla was one of my favorite flavors, so I added double the amount the recipe called for.

  “Or chocolate,” Stormy said. “Natalie loves chocolate. But she said she can’t come home for my birthday.” With that, Stormy burst into tears.

  I pulled a paper towel off the roll and handed it to her while Mom patted her shoulder.

  “I know you’re going to adjust to this,” I promised her. “One day you’ll be glad she’s gone so you can turn her bedroom into your own private getaway.”

  She nodded, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry. Bob says I need to stop this.” The waterworks stopped as quickly as they started and she sniffed.

  “It will get easier,” Mom said. “When Rainey moved away to New York, I must have cried two whole days. Then I was over it. I just pretended you were her for a while and it worked. It helps to have identical twins.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said and went back to my cake. “It’s nice to know I can so easily be replaced.”

  “Aunt Rainey, I want cake,” Lizzy announced, running into the kitchen. Lizzy was Stormy’s youngest daughter. She and her sister Bonnie were in the living room watching TV.

  “It’s not done yet, but I promise you will get some,” I told her. She nodded, and ran back into the living room, her blond hair bouncing around her shoulders.

  “Have you heard much about Silas Mill’s murder?” Mom asked.

  “Not a lot. Cade is still in the very beginning of the investigation,” I said.

  “I heard something,” Stormy said.

  We both turned to look at her. “And?” I asked.

  “I heard he and Karen had a fight in the parking lot of the grocery store right before he died.”

  “How right before and who said it?” I asked.

  “Susan Sardon said it,” she said. “I used to work with her when I worked at the grocery store in high school. She still works there, and she was getting off work the night before Silas was killed. They were in the parking lot, arguing about him not making a commitment to her. She cried and said she was done with him and that she didn’t ever want to see him again.”

  “Huh. That’s odd since Karen said it was no big deal that he wouldn’t marry her. She said she got used to them just being together,” I said.

  “Doesn’t sound like she was used to it,” Stormy said.

  “I don’t believe she would get used to it. I mean, it was twenty years. Come on. No woman wants to devote that kind of time to a guy that won’t say yes,” Mom said. “For goodness sakes, it’s just marriage and if you’ve been with someone that long anyway, you may as well marry them.”

  “I thought the same thing when she told me,” I said. “I didn’t even know they were a couple. How do you keep that to yourself for so long?”

  “You don’t notice things, Rainey,” Mom said.

  “What do you mean I don’t notice things? I’m practically a detective. In my own right.”

  She laughed. “Sweet, innocent Rainey. Do you really think you’re a detective? You didn’t even notice when I threw all your holey socks out when you lived with me.”

  I rolled my eyes and ignored her. “Karen seems so quiet and keeps to herself. I can’t imagine her killing someone. Especially someone she had such a long history with.” I searched through my cabinet for a zester. I didn’t have any oranges on hand, but I did have some lemons. They would do for now.

  “Maybe Karen has a temper?” Mom said. “Sometimes those quiet people aren’t so quiet in their private lives.”

  “Could be,” I said.

  “What about Sue Hester? What did she say?” Stormy asked.

  I wasn’t sure how much I should tell them. My mother and sister were trustworthy, but I didn’t want them to accidentally share something that might be sensitive in nature with someone that shouldn’t hear it.

  I shrugged. “Not a lot. She said Silas lived at the boardinghouse for more than ten years. Sometimes people there don’t get along and I guess he may have had trouble from time to time. I think she’s really going to miss him.” I kept it light and free of pertinent details.

  I washed two lemons and rolled them along the counter to loosen the juice inside of them.

  “I can’t imagine living in a boardinghouse. Do they have shared bathrooms?” Mom asked.

  I glanced at her. “Ew. I didn’t think to ask, but I couldn’t live there if they do. I want my own bathroom.”

  “I want buttercream frosting,” Stormy said. “With lots of vanilla.”

  “I was thinking of fondant. I want to experiment with marzipan decorations.”

  “I like buttercream,” Stormy said.

  I sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “If I were looking for a killer, I’d check out that boardinghouse. Some of those people are suspicious looking. It’s not like you get normal people in there,” Mom said, and got up to make some tea.

  “What do you mean normal? What’s normal?” I asked her as I cut one of the lemons and squeezed it over a small bowl.

  “You know what I mean. Drifters. People without roots to the community,” she said, pouring water into a cup and putting it in the microwave.

  “Silas lived there for ten years and worked at the newspaper. He had plenty of roots,” I pointed out.

  “I know, I know. But still,” she insisted.

  “You jump to conclusions,” I said.

  “Didn’t Gary Haines live there years ago?” she said and shivered. “I always thought he was a murderer. I would have liked to know what he had in his basement back then.”

  I laughed. “You’re terrible. Poor Gary was harmless. He was just odd.”

  “I think you should check out the boardinghouse,” Stormy said. “I bet someone there has to know something. I mean, they lived together, ate together, and probably all talked to one another about personal stuff. Someone had to know something.”

  “You have a point there,” I said. “I’m going to see if I can talk to people there.”

  “So, Cade doesn’t mind you getting involved in his cases these days?” Mom asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

  “I don’t know that he doesn’t mind. I mean, he seems fine as long as I don’t get into trouble.”

  The lemons smelled wonderful. I poured the juice into a small bowl that had melted butter in it and then began zesting the other lemon. I might change my mind about the orange and just go with lemon. It was a favorite of mine, anyway.

  “I like raspberry, too,” Stormy said. “Raspberry cake would be good.”

  “What about Raspberry chocolate?” I asked, gently stirring in the lemon juice.

  “Or raspberry white chocolate?” Mom suggested and removed a tea bag from the box on the counter.

  “Now you’re talking,” I said. A raspberry white chocolate layer and a lemon layer would go together perfectly. “I can make it a triple layer cake and make the small layer on top vanilla in case anyone has allergies, or preferences.”

  “Like a wedding cake? How many people are coming to this party?” Mom asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Not many. There’s Stormy’s fi—four kids,” I caught myself and glanced at Stormy. “And then a few friends. I want to invite Agatha, Cade, and maybe some people from work. It’s a chance to show off my cake baking skills.”

  “Ulterior motives,” Mom said.

  “Maybe so,” I said.

  I needed to get over to the boarding house and see if anyone had any ideas on what had happened to Silas. Stormy was right. Someone there had to know something. I also hoped I could find Harry someplace I could speak to him alone. He and Silas had issues and I wanted to know what they were.

  Chapter Nine

  Two days later I stopped by the newspaper office. I had wanted to start
up a subscription to the newspaper anyway, and I hoped to find Harry Adams there. With him only working a few hours a week, I thought it made sense that he might be there at the end of the day to clean up after everyone. If not, I would have to figure out some way of running into him. Meeting him at the boardinghouse would be my last resort. There would be too many people there that might overhear our conversation.

  When I pulled up to the front curb, as luck would have it, there was an elderly gentleman cleaning the front windows of the newspaper office. The clock on my dashboard said two minutes to five. The newspaper closed at 5:30 so I had time to stop and talk to him before they closed.

  “Oh my goodness, I’m not too late, am I?” I called out to the man as I headed to the door.

  He turned and looked at me, questioning. “Eh?”

  “Is the newspaper office closed?” I asked, giving him a big smile. “I just moved into my new house and I wanted to start up a subscription to the newspaper. Do you work here?”

  “No. I just stop and clean any dirty windows that I find.” He looked at me incredulously.

  “Oh. Of course. Sorry.” And then I stood and looked at him. I hadn’t expected him to be so surly, but I should have if I’d paid attention to what Sue had told me. “I guess I should go inside, then.”

  He snorted and opened the glass door for me to enter. “Some people…” he muttered.

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling mildly stupid. I should have had a better plan of something to say to get information out of him.

  The desks inside the office were empty now, and I went to the front counter. The man came inside and began cleaning the inside of the plate-glass window. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I walked up behind him and cleared my throat.

  He looked over his shoulder at me. “What?”

  “I was just waiting for someone to come to the front counter. It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

  He turned and looked at the clouds gathering in the sky outside and turned back. “I guess that depends on what your idea of nice is.” He turned back to his work, leaving me standing there. I went to the window beside him.