by Jessa Archer
Jared pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and turned it around, straddling the back. “Well, I’m a guy who knows a bit about houses. Let me know if you need any help.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks. That’s a really nice offer.”
He pulled out a hamburger from the bag and handed it to me. “Do you want a beer?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I still have some work to do later.”
He nodded and opened a beer for himself.
I sat down across from him. “So what’s the story on the balcony?” I asked. “Do you think it was an accident, or do you think somebody had it in for Winthrop?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You mean, do I think somebody set it up so the guy would fall off and die?” He shook his head. “If somebody wanted to kill him, there are easier ways.”
“Easier ways to kill a guy that would look like an accident?” I put my hamburger down. “It looked to me as though it wasn’t just an accident. I mean, a balcony like that would have a strong banister that you couldn’t very easily fall through if it was maintained correctly, right? I mean... you’d know better than I would.”
The expression on Jared’s face caught me by surprise. “Are you saying you think that one of our guys wanted this lawyer dead?”
“No. I was just wondering—”
“Because that’s some pretty serious BS.” He was staring at me intently. “And why do you care so much about what happened, anyway? It’s not your house. It’s not your problem.” He put his beer down on the table. Hard. “You didn’t even like the guy from what I heard.”
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “It’s my problem because the sheriff thinks I’m a suspect. Because everybody knew that Winthrop owed me money. And since he is—or was—my only competition in getting legal work here in Misty...”
“Well, I guess that is a problem. But don’t go accusing me and my workers of murder.”
He stood up, grabbed the bag of burgers, and put the rest of his six-pack under his arm. He started walking out of the kitchen.
I was pretty stunned, but there was no way I was going to beg him to stick around. So much for my thoughts about third dates and the future of this relationship.
He stalked to the front of the house as Woogs and I followed him, more out of puzzlement than anything. He pulled open the front door with a big yank, and I heard some banging from upstairs.
“What the heck was that?” he asked, his eyes looking in the direction of the stairs.
“That’s my resident ghost. She’s a friend of mine. I’m beginning to think she doesn’t like you.”
Mr. W barked at him. Jared rolled his eyes and stepped out onto the porch. “The feeling is mutual.”
Chapter Six
“Pepper? Pepper, it’s your mother!”
“Yes, Mom, I know. I can see your name on the screen when you call me.”
“Somebody was murdered at the house right beside yours and you don’t call your mother?”
“I was going to call you. It’s been kind of a crazy day. As you can imagine.”
“Next time somebody gets murdered in the house beside yours, you call me, all right?”
“Yes, Mom. Next time it happens—which I trust will be never—I’ll call you right away.”
“Do you want me to come over? I can be over there in ten minutes.”
“No, Mom. I appreciate your concern, but I’m all right.”
“Are you all alone? Have you had dinner?” I heard the crinkling of paper. “I have food here. You want me to bring food?”
I shook my head and looked at Mr. W, who was sitting on the kitchen floor, watching me. “I’ve already eaten. But thanks.” I propped the phone up to my ear with my shoulder and opened the bag of dog food. I whispered to Woogie, “I know you’re hungry. I’m sorry that it’s been so crazy today that I didn’t feed you yet.”
“What? What are you saying? I can’t hear you.”
“I was talking to Mr. Woogles, Mom.”
“Oh. Yes, honey. I’ve seen you talk to that dog. Do you think that’s healthy? I mean... you know he can’t understand you, right? He’s a dog.”
I turned away so Woogie couldn’t hear her. “Shh, Mom.”
“That’s ridiculous. The dog doesn’t understand English.” I could hear her sighing. “So what will you have for dinner? Now that you have a real house with a real kitchen—though I don’t know how you’re going to afford it—you should be making nice healthy meals for yourself.” I heard the sound of the faucet running. “You know I love you, darling, but you could stand to lose a pound or two.”
“Thanks, Mom. That’s very kind of you to point out.”
“I only say it because I love you, darling. So what did you have for dinner? You didn’t answer my question.”
I sighed. “I had a hamburger.”
“Was it lean? Did you make it with lean meat? And what kind of a bun?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I didn’t make it myself.”
“You mean you bought it somewhere? You know, you have to be very careful with all the E. coli going around these days. Where did you buy it?”
“Mom, do you really have to be all up in my business like this?”
I heard what I feared was a shocked silence on the other end of the line. “Sweetheart. I gave birth to you. Do you know how many hours I was in labor?”
“Yes, Mom, you’ve told me. Eleven hours and forty-two minutes. That’s how long you were in labor with me.”
“And then I had a C-section! They cut me open. I think I have a right to know where you got your hamburger. I made a big investment in you. I still have the scar.”
“Mom, Jared brought me the hamburger. I don’t know where he bought it.”
Her voice changed. “Oh... Jared? This is the young man that you are dating? When am I going to meet him?”
“You’re not.”
“What? Are you ashamed of your mother?”
“Of course not. Jared and I... well, I don’t think we’re going out anymore.”
“Why? What did you do?”
I rolled my eyes, but only for the benefit of Mr. W, who may or may not have caught the subtlety of my efforts. “I didn’t do anything, Mom. He turned out to be kind of a jerk. A very handsome, very tall, very sexy jerk.”
I could hear my mother’s sigh again, and I braced myself for her criticism.
“Well, good for you, Pepper. You don’t need to date any jerks. I’m proud of you for dropping him if he wasn’t treating you with respect.”
I was so surprised I had to sit down. “I appreciate that, Mom. It’s taken me a while to get to the stage where I listen to myself about these things.”
“So... no more boyfriend.” She made a phht sound, which came out loud and clear over the phone. “But tell me about next door. How did the man die?”
“It was Roger Winthrop. He fell off a balcony. They’re not sure how it happened.”
“Nathan at the deli counter told me it was murder.” She lowered her voice. “Winthrop had a lot of enemies.”
“You’re right about that. The enemies part, at any rate.”
“My friend Liz—you know, Mrs. Cantwell—said he was trying to get her evicted from her house.” She paused to take a breath, and I tried to speak, but I didn’t get in fast enough. “I don’t think she liked Roger Winthrop either. And she’s so sweet... You know she wouldn’t hurt a soul. But they say she’s a—”
“A witch. Yes, I know. Because her great-great-great-great etc. aunt was hanged as a witch back in the 1600s. But poor Mary Cantwell wasn’t a witch, and neither is Liz. I’m surprised at you for bringing that superstition up.”
“I didn’t say she was a witch, Pepper! The woman is my friend. I’m just saying that other people say she’s a witch.”
“Well, she’s not. It’s ridiculous that people are still talking about such nonsense. So I’m quite sure that, even if it was purposeful, Liz didn’t do it.”
&nb
sp; “So who do you think did it?” My mother’s voice sounded intrigued.
“Well, my old friend Logan, for one, seems to consider me a suspect.”
“You? How could you have done it? You weren’t there, were you?”
“No, I wasn’t there. But I imagine he thinks I could have set it up earlier.” It suddenly came to me why Logan was asking about Jared. If he thought there was some possibility that Jared would have done my dirty work in booby-trapping the balcony...
“Pepper? I can’t hear you. Are you still there?”
“Yes, Mom. I’m still here. But listen, I have to go.”
“Go? It’s eight o’clock at night. This is Misty. There’s nowhere to go except the bar at the Mermaid’s Tail. Is that where you’re going?”
Mr. Woogles came over and sat beside me. I felt like he was lending his support so that I wouldn’t be alone in dealing with my mom. “I’m not going anywhere, Mom. I’m getting on the internet to do some research.”
“You spend too much time on that machine.”
“So you’ve told me, Mom. Listen, I’ll give you a call if I hear anything else. In the meantime, don’t worry.”
“Do you want me to tell them I did it, honey? I could turn myself in. I would go to jail for you.” She gave a small sob. “After all, you’re all I’ve got.” Before I could object, she continued in a somewhat calmer voice. “Actually, I’m not really sure I want to cop to this if I get the death penalty. I’m willing to go to jail, but not the electric chair.”
“Mom. No one is going to jail. Least of all you.” Mr. W barked in agreement. “See? Mr. W agrees with me.”
“You’re taking your legal advice from a dog?”
“Look, I’m going to solve this case. I know I didn’t do it, so obviously someone else did. And I intend to find out who that is.”
“Good for you, honey. I’m sure you’ll solve the mystery. But just in case they try to pin it on you, remember that I, as your mother, am willing to take the fall.”
“Thanks, Mom, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Chapter Seven
I swung through the door of The Secret Gardeners and saw my friend Bryce working on an arrangement of flowers in the center of the shop.
“Pepper! My dear. I’m so glad you stopped in.” He wiped his hands carefully on a green apron sporting the shop’s tagline We love to get dirty for you. He gave me a hug and walked me into the back room.
“Oh my God, Bryce.” I shivered. Even the delightful fragrance of the flowers around me gave me little comfort.
“Yes! O-M-G, as the young people say.” Bryce sat down on a workbench and patted the space beside him for me to join him. “What a wild week you’ve had! First thing I heard about was the wedding fiasco—the poop in the porta-potty! That woman Trixie, she’s nuts. She wants to sue, right?”
“Well, of course I can’t divulge information about potential clients and their confidential discussions about possible litigation—”
Bryce put his hand up to stop me. “Save it, sweetbuns. You don’t have to tell me. I know Trixie Johnson—excuse me, the new Mrs. Trixie Johnson Dingle—and Trixie Dingle is a lady who wants to sue every time things don’t go just her way.” He raised his eyebrows and grabbed my elbow. “But more importantly, the dastardly Winthrop! Fell off the balcony! Or was he pushed?”
I shook my head. “Logan is looking into that now...”
The door swung open, and Sergio walked into the work room in all his Latin splendor. Immediately Bryce perked up. “Hello, love. Guess who’s come to see us?”
“Pepper!” Sergio wrapped his powerful thirtysomething arms around me and gave my cheeks the right-kiss, left-kiss move of his native Spain. “Are you all right? I heard about a dead abogado and—Oh, and I heard you were wonderful at the wedding! Kept the crowd calm while the bride had her freaking out... what you sang was the ‘Amazing Grace,’ right?”
“Yes, the singing worked out fine.” I stepped back from Sergio’s grip, a little flustered as always by the gorgeous macho rush he carried with him. “It’s been everything since the wedding that’s been crazy.”
“Do tell. We’ve been dying to know. Haven’t we, Sergio?” Bryce said, sliding over so I could sit down again.
“Yes, indeed, Pepper. Let us know so we do not die,” Sergio said, his white teeth gleaming against his olive skin as he smiled.
“So, you two heard about Roger Winthrop falling off the balcony. What you might not know is that I’m one of the suspects.”
“No!” Bryce reached out and took my hand in both of his. “That’s crazy. Who would think that?”
Sergio looked at me with concern. “Pepper... someone thinks you are a murder-ass?”
Bryce leaned back and looked at Sergio. “Sometimes you have the most interesting words, Sergio.”
Sergio glanced at me and then back at Bryce. “Did I not say it right?”
Raising one eyebrow, Bryce turned to me. “Well, Winthrop was an ass, so maybe that’s more appropriate than we knew.” He stood up in agitation. “What idiot thinks you could be a murderer?”
“Apparently my old beau Sheriff Logan Bateman does.”
“Is he going to arrest you?” Bryce looked concerned.
I threw up my hands. “I sure hope not. It’s absurd. I mean, I don’t really think he believes I did it. I wasn’t even there.” I found myself rubbing my forehead and stopped. “I have a perfect alibi. I was sitting there with Trixie and Buddy, discussing their potential lawsuit about the used porta-potty. But Logan says he needs to talk to me. At the police station.”
Sergio turned to me. “But if you were not there, how could you be the murder-ass?”
Even I couldn’t help laughing. “Sergio, the word is murderer. Or murderess, if you’re going to be all old-fashioned and use a special term because I’m a woman. Not a murder-ass.”
Bryce put his hand on my shoulder. “I think Logan just wants to talk to you, Pepper. He still carries a torch for you, honey.”
“There are easier ways to talk to me than interviewing me about my role in a possible murder. I think his theory is that I was dating one of the guys who was working construction next door.”
“Yes! This is it. He has the jealousy. He wants you back.” Sergio nodded his head in satisfaction.
A chime sounded from the front of the store, and Sergio got up. “I will go see to the customer. But Bryce, you have to tell me if you talk about anything else. I want all the moist details later.”
Bryce and I held our laughter until Sergio left the room. “He means juicy details, right?” Both of us got the giggles, and had to put our hands over our mouths to keep from making too much noise. “He is the cutest.”
Bryce looked fondly in the direction of the shop. “Yes, he is. But explain to me about you and Logan. Didn’t you tell me that he and his wife had separated like, months ago?”
“Exactly. Only... apparently it isn’t really over. Or he’s... de-separated, or something. Which he has every right to do, of course!” I tried to be very adult about it, but I couldn’t help it that my voice got a little shaky. “My mother spotted them together at the Mermaid’s Tail last month, not long after I got settled in my new house. Right after Logan himself told me that he and Paula had split.”
“That could be anything, right?”
I shook my head. “Mom said they were having drinks and looking very relaxed and friendly, so I don’t know what to believe. The last thing I would ever want to do is break up a marriage.”
“Well, his loss. And you are already dating... what’s his name? The guy working on the house next door?”
“I was. Until very recently.”
“Too bad. I was just thinking about what lovely muscles he must have if he works construction.”
I gave Bryce an arch look.
“For you, honey,” he said, smiling. “Muscles for you, not for me.”
I sighed. “So Jared is over and Logan is married, and I have to get
my law practice going so I can afford my new house.” I shook my head. “Oh. And make sure the sheriff of Misty believes that I didn’t kill anyone. No matter how many people think I had it in for Roger Winthrop.”
“Well, then,” Bryce said, standing up and offering me his hand to rise from the workbench. “You’ll just have to find out who did kill him.”
“That’s my plan.”
“And let me know if I can help,” he said. “That dastardly Winthrop was a terrible man. I’ll never forget how he forced you to pay him in cash the night you moved into your new house, and then it turned out you didn’t owe anything.”
“Right.”
“Did you ever get that money back?”
“No.” I followed Bryce out of the workroom and into the main shop, where Sergio was wrapping flowers for two ladies. “But I did bring a complaint to the Misty Bar Association about his dishonesty.”
The two women looked at me and then at each other. I saw them lean in and whisper. All I could hear was “Winthrop” and “killed.”
I gave Bryce an air kiss and left the shop, my head held high and my ears burning. I needed to find the culprit soon, or I’d never be able to practice law in this town.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, after a restless night, I decided to take Mr. Woogles with me to do some errands in the center of our little town. It would be good to get my mind off the constant pressure of the Winthrop case.
“Hey, Pops,” I said as I pushed open the door to Misty’s only hardware store, Peterson’s, which had been in the same spot for forever. The owner had been running the store since before nearly everyone else in town was born.
“Hello?” I heard a voice calling from the back of the store. There was some kind of rattling going on. “Just a minute, just a minute. I got something tricky to figure out here... thing must be even older than I am, and that’s saying something.”
I hesitated for a minute as I stood in the doorway, letting my eyes get used to the store after the brightness outside. “Do you allow dogs in here, Pops?”