by Sarah Fox
Adya Banerjee stood out front of a white Victorian with a for sale sign on the lawn. I recognized the blond woman with her too. Chantel Lefevre was a local real estate agent and not exactly one of my favorite people. I’d met her shortly after my cousin Jimmy had died.
As I drew closer, I caught a snippet of the women’s conversation.
“I’ll call the seller’s agent, and we’ll get the offer in before the end of the day,” Chantel said.
Adya thanked her, and they went their separate ways, Chantel heading for her banana yellow sports car and Adya climbing into a red, four-door sedan.
As the two women drove off, I realized that I’d slowed almost to a stop.
Lisa had mentioned that Adya had taken over Jane’s position at the community center after the murder. There was a good chance that the promotion had come with a pay raise. Was that why Adya was now putting an offer on a house?
Maybe the real estate dealings had no significance, but what I’d overheard had reminded me that I needed to get to work on narrowing down my suspect list.
Chapter Fifteen
I called Ray while walking home. Often when I phoned him, I ended up having to leave a message, but this time he picked up. I told him about the dented bumper on the car I’d seen Frankie driving, and he promised he would look into it. I asked him if he thought it was strange how the driver who’d hit Tommy hadn’t tossed the camera along with the phone and wallet—or at least not in the same place—but he wasn’t willing to comment. That didn’t surprise me. He had an understandable habit of remaining tight-lipped about his investigations. That didn’t always stop me from trying to get information out of him.
When I arrived home, I greeted Bentley and Flapjack, and then opened the French doors to the back porch so Bentley could go out in the yard. Flapjack followed him outside and settled on the porch railing, where he liked to watch birds, butterflies, and any other creatures that might fly by. After pouring myself a glass of sweet tea, I joined the animals outside and took a seat on the porch swing.
The tide was working its way in over a sandbar, and several ducks paddled around in the shallows. A seagull landed on a log at the top of the beach, capturing Flapjack’s attention. The tabby’s tail swished back and forth, but he made no move to get up and stalk the bird. Bentley finished his investigation of some interesting scents at the edge of the yard and came bounding over our way, startling the seagull into flight.
The sky was a bright shade of blue, and the sun warmed my face. I hadn’t yet gathered enough courage to swim in the ocean this year—the water was still a bit too cold for me—but if the beautiful weather continued, that would probably change soon. In the meantime, I’d continue to enjoy the light spring breeze from my porch swing.
As I relaxed and drank my sweet tea, my thoughts returned to Tommy’s accident. He’d been walking home from the charity gala when the car hit him. None of Wildwood Cove’s roads were particularly busy late at night. Traffic increased during tourist season, which was in its infancy, but I suspected that the stretch of road where we’d found Tommy hadn’t been very busy that night. In fact, there was a good chance that many of the vehicles heading east along that road were driven by people who were returning home after the gala.
Maybe one of the guests had hit Tommy. I figured it was more likely than not that alcohol was served at the event. Perhaps someone had decided to drive home despite being impaired. That would explain why the car had crossed the centerline and struck Tommy from behind.
If that was the case, then maybe Frankie wasn’t the culprit. I didn’t know much about the guy, but he didn’t strike me as the sort of person who would have received an invitation to the gala. As I understood it, the guests were mostly rich people from the peninsula and Seattle, many of whom were friends with Evangeline and Richard. Then again, maybe I was judging too quickly. Maybe Frankie’s family business was prosperous, and he was plenty rich. Even if that were the case, though, he still didn’t seem like the type to rub shoulders with Evangeline Oldershaw-Hobbs.
I figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find out if Frankie had attended the event. Once I knew one way or the other, I could put my speculation to an end, in that regard at least. I could ask Tommy if he’d seen Frankie there. Otherwise, maybe I could get a copy of the guest list somehow. I wasn’t sure how I’d go about that. Ray would have no trouble procuring one, but there was no way he’d share the list of names with me.
Hopefully the matter would soon be put to rest. If Ray managed to track down the driver or determined that Frankie was the one who struck Tommy, the case would be closed. Maybe it was purely wishful thinking, but I hoped that the hit-and-run and the murder case would both be solved in short order.
When Brett arrived home from work, I set aside my thoughts of sleuthing. I hadn’t had the chat with him that I’d meant to the night before. We’d ended up having dinner with his parents, and afterward, we’d both gone straight to bed since we had to be up early in the morning. This evening, however, we had no plans.
While Brett showered, I started making some spaghetti sauce and returned to my spot on the porch swing while it simmered on the stove. Brett joined me soon after, and I shifted over so I could snuggle up against him. He rested his arm around my shoulders, and Bentley settled down at our feet. Flapjack remained on the railing, but he’d given up on watching the birds and was snoozing instead.
I filled Brett in on my day, and he told me about his. He got up to check on the spaghetti sauce. When he returned, I decided it was time to broach the subject that had been hovering at the edge of my thoughts for the past few weeks, and even more so since my chat with Sienna on the beach.
“You know how we’ve talked about starting a family?” I said.
Brett had been gazing out at the view of the ocean, but now he turned his full attention on me. “I definitely haven’t forgotten.”
“Silly question, I guess.”
He grinned and kissed me. “Have you been thinking about it some more?”
“A lot,” I admitted.
“I meant what I said before. We don’t have to rush into anything if you’re not ready.”
“I know you meant it,” I assured him.
Brett had no hesitation about having children together, and I wanted kids with him too, but I found the idea overwhelming, and he knew that. It would be such a big change to our life, and I had next to no experience with babies. The thought of being responsible for one made me more than a little nervous.
“I think I’m ready now,” I said.
The shift in Brett’s expression was subtle, but I could tell that what I’d said was welcome news.
“Are you sure?” he checked. “We can wait if that would make you more comfortable.”
“We can’t wait too long. I’m already thirty-five. But I don’t need to wait any longer. If you’re ready, I’m ready.”
Brett pulled me onto his lap. I laughed, but only until he kissed me.
“You’re going to be a great mom,” he said before kissing me again.
I rested my forehead against his. “I don’t know about that, but I know you’ll be an amazing dad.”
“How about we be amazing together, like we already are,” he said.
I gazed into his blue eyes, and my heart swelled so much that I thought it might burst. “Together, I’m pretty sure we can do anything.”
* * * *
Saturday morning brought a rush of customers that would have proved overwhelming without Logan’s help in the kitchen. He’d settled in quickly, and so far, everything was running smoothly. During a slight lull after the breakfast rush, I stopped to talk to Marjorie Wells, who had dropped in for breakfast after walking the whole length of Wildwood Beach and back again with her friend Donna. Although Marjorie qualified as a senior citizen and had gray hair, she was one of the most active people I knew. She’d even competed in
the Golden Oldies Games, a sporting competition that had taken place in Wildwood Cove the previous summer.
“Marjorie,” I said while Donna crossed the restaurant to say hello to someone she knew, “don’t you attend classes at the community center?”
“Sure. At the moment, I’m taking yoga and learning how to paint with watercolors, but I’ve taken several other classes in the past as well. Are you thinking of signing up for something?”
“Not at the moment.” I lowered my voice so the other diners wouldn’t overhear me being nosy. “Do you know Adya Banerjee?”
“I know who she is, but I’ve never exchanged more than a few words with her. Why do you ask?” A twinkle appeared in her eyes. “Is this part of one of your investigations?”
I glanced around and saw with relief that no one was paying us any attention. Donna was still across the room, chatting with two other women.
I slipped into the chair across from Marjorie. “I’ve been thinking about Jane’s murder,” I said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Ah.” She nodded with understanding. “Jane and Adya worked at the community center together.”
“Jane received a promotion shortly before her death, one that Adya wanted. And guess who has Jane’s job now?”
Marjorie considered that. “Do you think Adya really would have murdered Jane to get a promotion?”
I shrugged. “People have killed for less. It might not be the strongest motive ever, but I know that Jane was most definitely not one of Adya’s favorite people.”
Marjorie tugged her coffee mug toward her and wrapped her hands around it. “You know, my friend’s granddaughter works as a receptionist at the community center.”
I perked up at that news. “So she probably knows Adya.”
“And she’s a very observant young lady. If there’s anything juicy to know about Adya, Desiree might be aware of it.”
“Do you think she’d share that sort of information?” I asked.
“I think she would with me. I’ve known her all her life.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Donna heading toward us. Our private chat would have to wrap up.
“How about I talk to Desiree and report back to you,” Marjorie suggested. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?”
“Not really. I’m just wondering if she has a temper or anything like that.” I vacated the chair as Donna returned to the table. “Thank you, Marjorie.”
“My pleasure,” she said with a smile.
I stepped back and flashed a smile at Donna before heading for the kitchen to check on Ivan and Logan. Everything was still going well on their end, so I returned to serving meals and taking orders.
Business picked up again as the brunch crowd arrived, and the lunch rush followed right on its heels. Thankfully, Sienna and Leigh were both working that day, so we were managing the crowd of diners well between the three of us.
I grabbed two plates of raspberry orange pancakes from the pass-through window and spun around. I nearly dropped the plates when I noticed Dean Vaccarino sauntering into the restaurant. Pulling myself together, I adjusted my grip on the plates, avoiding disaster.
Across the restaurant, Frankie raised a hand to get Dean’s attention. I hadn’t noticed Frankie earlier, so he’d likely just arrived. Dean headed in his direction and claimed the chair across from him.
I wondered if they were friends. The fact that they’d met up for lunch suggested that they were. Before yesterday I would have thought that Frankie seemed too nice to be pals with Dean, but how nice could he be if he’d left Tommy lying injured in a ditch? Okay, so I didn’t know for sure if Frankie was the driver who’d struck Tommy, but seeing him with Dean gave me another reason to harbor suspicions about him.
I didn’t want anything to do with Dean and preferred to steer clear of him, but Leigh and Sienna were both serving other customers. I didn’t want Sienna dealing with him anyway. It was bad enough when Dean leered at me. If he did that to Sienna, I’d be at risk of losing my temper.
I managed to greet Frankie and Dean politely, if not warmly, and I poured coffee for them without having to endure more than a hard stare from Dean. I figured he was attempting to intimidate me again, and I wondered if he knew I’d talked to Ray about him after he’d threatened me.
The two guys ordered right away, so I left them with their coffee and took refuge in the kitchen.
“Dean Vaccarino is here,” I said to Ivan.
He glowered at me. “The man who threatened you?”
Logan glanced our way as he added a slice of breakfast frittata to a plate, but he stayed quiet.
“The one and the same,” I said.
I’d filled Ivan in on my encounter with Dean not long after it happened.
Ivan flipped a pancake on the griddle and then wiped his hands. “You want me to kick him out?”
“No, no,” I said quickly. “He’s not causing any trouble. Not yet, anyway. He’s here to eat.”
“If he threatens you again…” Ivan didn’t need to finish his sentence.
“I’ll let you know right away,” I promised.
I took the plates Logan had filled with food and left the kitchen.
As soon as the door swung shut behind me, I saw that Dean wasn’t the only unexpected customer of the day.
Chapter Sixteen
Dean was the most unwelcome person to show up at the pancake house, but the title of most surprising customer went to Evangeline Oldershaw-Hobbs. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor when she walked into the restaurant. I recovered quickly and called out a greeting, letting her know she could choose any free table she wished. There were only a few to choose from, and she peered down her nose at each one before pursing her lips and choosing a small table by the window. She already looked as though she’d tasted something sour, and she hadn’t even sampled the food yet. I figured that didn’t bode well. Nevertheless, I was determined to remain cheerful and polite, no matter what complaints she came up with.
After grabbing the coffee pot, I headed over Evangeline’s way. “Would you like some coffee to start?” I asked.
She sighed as she set her designer purse on an empty chair. “I suppose so.”
She sounded as though she were making a great sacrifice. Maybe because The Flip Side’s coffee didn’t cost a fortune per pound.
I managed to keep a smile on my face as I filled her mug and handed her a menu. “Shall I give you a minute to decide?”
“I’m meeting someone,” she said, setting the menu aside without so much as glancing at it. “I’ll wait until she gets here.” She made a show of checking the gold watch on her wrist. “If she ever gets here.”
“Of course.” I fought to keep my smile in place. “Let me know if you need anything in the meantime.”
I made a quick escape. Less than five minutes later, a slightly plump, middle-aged woman with brown hair tied back in a messy bun arrived and scurried over to Evangeline’s table. I was surprised that Evangeline’s companion looked as ordinary as I did. She wasn’t wearing designer clothes, and she had little to no makeup on. Several wisps of hair had come loose from her bun, and her cheeks were flushed as if she’d rushed to get to the pancake house.
When I returned to the table to take their orders, I realized why Evangeline was meeting with the woman. They were discussing the food for the museum’s party. The brunette—Diana—was the caterer Evangeline had hired, and they were having a business meeting. I suspected Diana had chosen the location. I doubted Evangeline would have decided to come to my humble establishment otherwise. Then again, their options had likely been limited. I’d heard that CJ’s Seafood—the most formal restaurant in town—was closed for a few days because an elderly member of the family that ran the establishment had passed away.
Although Evangeline spoke in a haughty voice and kept her n
ose in the air every time she spoke to me, I managed to get the two women settled with their meals without any complaints. I left them to their meeting and gathered up some dirty dishes from a recently vacated table, carrying them into the kitchen. I was putting the dishes into the dishwasher when Sienna poked her head into the kitchen.
“Marley, there’s a woman out here asking to see you,” she said.
I shut the dishwasher and moved over to the sink. “Do you know who she is?”
“She looks kind of familiar, but I don’t know her name.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
Sienna disappeared, and I quickly washed and dried my hands before leaving the kitchen.
When I returned to the dining room, Sienna pointed out a woman in her late twenties with dark blond hair that fell to her shoulders. She was sitting at a table for two in the far corner. I had to pass by Evangeline and Dean to get there. Fortunately, Dean was too busy eating his churro waffles to notice me, and Evangeline didn’t wave me down to complain about something, as I’d feared she might.
The blond woman offered me a hesitant smile as I approached her.
“Hi,” I greeted. “I’m Marley Collins, the owner of The Flip Side. I understand you wanted to speak with me?”
She hadn’t been in the restaurant a few minutes ago, and she didn’t have a meal in front of her yet, so I figured it was unlikely she had a complaint about the food.
“Yes,” she said, her smile less hesitant now. “I hope I’m not bothering you. My name is Krista Maxwell. Dolly Maxwell is my grandmother. I understand that you and my great-aunt Winnifred met with her the other day.”
“That’s right,” I said, intrigued. “How can I help you?”
“Aunt Winnifred thought I might be able to help you. Do you have a moment to talk?”
Fortunately, Leigh and Sienna had everything under control. The lunch rush was trailing off, and we’d be closing for the day in less than an hour.