by Sarah Fox
“Who was killed?” Mel asked as she pulled her hat off.
I swallowed and put my hand on the edge of the counter to steady myself. I really didn’t want to be the one to deliver the news.
“Sadie?” Booker set down his knife and moved to my side. “Was it someone you know?”
“Maybe you should sit down,” Mel said with concern.
I shook my head and struggled to make my tongue work. “I’m so sorry, Mel.”
Apprehension crept into her blue eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Jade’s dead.” The nausea I’d briefly experienced at Leo’s place made a comeback. Delivering this news to Mel was almost as bad as finding Jade’s body.
Mel stared at me, the color draining from her face. “That can’t be,” she said. “Jade’s in Boston. I saw her drive away on Sunday.”
“She left for Boston,” I said. “But she didn’t get very far. There’s a car in the bushes along Hartley Road. I only caught a glimpse, but it looks like it could be the one she was driving.”
“She had an accident?” Mel’s usually strong voice had grown faint. “Are you sure she’s dead?”
“She might have been run off the road on purpose. Grayson and I found her early this morning. She was in a shed, well away from her car.” I put a hand on Mel’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Is this because of Freddy?” she asked. “Were they killed by the same person?”
“I don’t know, but it seems likely.”
“But the police arrested Penny,” Booker said. “How could she have killed Jade while she was in custody for murdering Freddy?”
“I’m not convinced they’ve got the right person,” I said. “But either way, Penny still could have killed Jade. She’s likely been dead for a couple of days.”
“Since before Penny was arrested.” Booker rubbed the back of his neck. “Geez, Mel. I’m sorry. She was a friend of yours, right?”
Mel nodded but said nothing. I’d never seen her so shaken. I wanted to give her a hug, but I suspected she’d rather I give her some space.
“Why Jade?” she asked, finally speaking. “Why would anyone want to kill her? She was harmless.”
“I really don’t know,” I said, my heart aching.
All three of us jumped when someone knocked loudly on the pub’s front door. I glanced at Booker and Mel before hurrying out of the kitchen to see who was there. I wasn’t overly surprised when I found Detective Marquez standing on the other side of the door.
I stepped back to allow her to enter the pub. I quickly closed the door behind her, catching a glimpse of lazy snowflakes drifting down from the gray sky before I shut out the cold air.
“I’m guessing you’re here about Jade Castellano,” I said.
I figured she probably had more questions for me. I hoped I wouldn’t embarrass myself as much as I had with Officer Howes if she asked why I’d been out by Leo’s place with Grayson. I also hoped I wouldn’t get myself into trouble.
“I am,” Marquez said. “But I’m looking for Melanie Costas. Is she here?”
Mel pushed through the swinging kitchen door. “I’m here.”
Her voice sounded stronger, back to normal, and grim resignation had replaced some of the shock on her face.
“I just told her about Jade,” I said to the detective.
“Do you know why this happened?” Mel asked.
“We’re still in the initial stages of our investigation,” Detective Marquez replied. “But I was hoping you could help with that. Would you mind accompanying me to the station so we can have a chat?”
Mel addressed me. “Can you manage without me for a while, Sadie?”
“Yes.” The word came out more faintly than I’d meant.
Mel zipped up her jacket. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Chapter 22
My nerves wouldn’t stop jittering and a lump of dread sat heavily in my stomach. I tried to make myself believe that Detective Marquez simply wanted to learn more about Jade from Mel, the one person in Shady Creek who’d known the woman. But Mel was already on the detective’s radar as far as Freddy’s murder was concerned. Even if the police believed one hundred percent that Penny had killed Freddy, did that put Mel in the clear?
I thought it unlikely that the two recent murders were unrelated, but until the police had evidence that they were linked, would Mel be a suspect in Jade’s death?
And what if the police came to believe, as I did, that Penny wasn’t Freddy’s killer? Would Mel then become their prime suspect?
I couldn’t keep thinking that way. All it was doing was working me into a near panic.
I opened the Inkwell two minutes before noon, hoping customers would distract me, but no one came through the door. I gazed out one of the windows that overlooked Creekside Road and the village green. The snowflakes no longer drifted lazily to the ground; they were falling thickly and furiously, already leaving a thin layer on the road.
After hurrying upstairs to grab my coat, I spent a few minutes sweeping the front walkway. At the rate the snow was falling, I’d have to repeat the task regularly to keep the footpath clear for customers.
Fortunately, a group of half a dozen tourists arrived as I was dusting the snow off my coat, preparing to head back inside. Others appeared on their heels, looking for a warm sanctuary as the snow continued to fall from the leaden sky.
The influx of customers kept me so busy for the next hour that I didn’t have time to worry about anything. While I was in the midst of mixing up three Happily Ever After cocktails and a Milky Way Gargle Blaster, Mel came in out of the snow, pulling off her hat and unzipping her jacket as she made her way behind the bar.
“You’re back,” I said with immense relief.
“Sorry I left you in the lurch.”
“Don’t be. It was you I was worried about.”
“I’m fine.” She shrugged out of her jacket. “I gave the walkway a quick shovel before I came in.”
“Thank you,” I said as she disappeared into the back.
I delivered the cocktails to a table by one of the windows. When I returned to the bar, Mel was filling pint glasses for two men. I studied her profile, trying to gauge how she was feeling. All of the shock had disappeared from her expression, replaced now with stoicism.
“Mel, you can take the day off if you need to,” I said quietly, so no one else would hear.
She delivered the pints to the customers before responding. “Thanks. But I’d rather keep busy.” She grabbed a cloth and wiped up a droplet of spilled beer. “Besides, I’m going to need the money to pay my lawyer.”
She was about to move away, but I put a hand on her arm to stop her. “Are you really in trouble?” I asked, worried.
“To be completely honest,” she said, her face grim, “I think I could be.”
* * *
I tried not to worry, without much luck. Every moment not spent serving customers or clearing tables turned into an internal anxiety fest. After Freddy’s death, I’d vowed to help clear Mel’s name, but I’d yet to succeed. With Penny in custody, the pressure on Mel had eased up, until Grayson and I had found Jade’s body.
I was certain the two murders were connected. I had a long list of possible culprits for Freddy’s death, but what about Jade’s? Plenty of people in town harbored ill feelings toward the big-city chef, but aside from Mel, no one here knew Jade.
Did they?
That was the first thing I needed to find out. If I could come up with a list of people who had a connection to Jade, however tenuous, that would give me something to work with. If nobody knew her, maybe she was targeted because she posed a danger to Freddy’s killer.
If she’d known something about the murderer, did she share that information with the police? Maybe she didn’t realize she knew something important, or perhaps the killer was simply worried she knew too much and didn’t want to take any chances by letting her live.
There were so many possibilities, but I
needed to start somewhere.
During a relatively quiet moment, I followed Mel into the kitchen, where she deposited a stack of dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
“If it’s too painful having me asking questions, tell me,” I said to her as she put the last of the dishes in the machine. “But I was wondering if anyone else in Shady Creek knew Jade or had dealings with her while she was in town.”
“I don’t mind you asking questions,” Mel said. “I just don’t want you doing anything dangerous on my behalf.”
“No danger here,” I assured her. “All I’m doing at the moment is trying to sort things out in my head.”
Booker spoke up from the prep counter where he was brushing baguette slices with olive oil for a platter of Paradise Lox. “She must have dealt with the organizers of the ice sculpture competition.”
“Good point,” I said. “Anyone else?” I directed the question at both of them.
Mel wiped her hands on a towel. “The only people I saw her talking with were Freddy, Alma Potts, the competition supervisors, and a couple of reporters.”
“Which reporters? Do you remember?”
“Joey and a guy from Boston. I think his name was Miles something. He’s the one who tried to get me to trash-talk Freddy.”
“He’s probably long gone, but I can talk to Joey. Alma organized the competition, so she might know something about Jade.”
Alma was the chair of the Inkwell’s romance book club and someone I considered a friend. I made a plan to talk with her and Joey as soon as possible. At the moment, however, I had to check on my customers.
When I left the kitchen, I spotted a familiar face and some of my worried tension slipped away. Shontelle hung her coat on one of the pegs by the door and waved at me with a smile. On her way across the room, she stopped to say hello to someone, but then she perched on a stool at the bar.
“It’s practically a blizzard out there,” she commented, running a hand over her hair.
“I think a lot of people are opting to stay home now,” I said, looking around the pub. After an initial rush around twelve-thirty, the crowd had thinned out considerably.
“I’m not getting many people in my store this afternoon, either. My mom’s watching over it while I take a late lunch break, but I doubt she’ll have many customers to deal with. They might have to reschedule this afternoon’s hockey game if the snow doesn’t let up.”
I’d almost forgotten about the hockey tournament, since the Inkwell was no longer in contention. I wondered when the brewery’s next game would be.
Thinking about the brewery led my thoughts to Grayson. Although I’d heard some gossip about the second murder over the past couple of hours, my name hadn’t come up, as far as I knew. Maybe Grayson and I would manage to stay under the radar.
I should have known better than to hope for that.
Shontelle picked up a menu, but her brown eyes settled on me. “I’m here for lunch, but I’m also here to see how you’re doing.”
“You heard?”
“Not long ago. I’ve known since midmorning that there was some sort of police incident out at Leo Mancini’s property, but I didn’t know you were involved until Gretchen Dingle came into my shop looking for a Christmas gift for her sister in New Jersey. She said you and Grayson found a body out in a field.”
“In an outbuilding on Leo’s land.”
“Is it really Freddy’s personal assistant who’s dead?”
“Yes.” The image of Jade’s dead body flashed in my head, far too vividly.
Some of my distress must have shown because Shontelle reached across the bar to take my hand. “I’m so sorry for bringing it up. Maybe you should sit down.”
I gave Shontelle’s hand a grateful squeeze. With Mel working and business being slow, I decided I could steal a few minutes away for myself.
“Let me take your order. Then I’ll sit with you for a bit.”
She requested the Red Cabbage of Courage, a salad made with ramen noodles, grated carrot, sunflower seeds, and—of course—cabbage, all topped with a vinaigrette. She also asked for a cup of coffee to go with it. After I relayed her order to Booker, I poured coffee for both of us and settled onto a bar stool.
“It was a shock finding Jade,” I said, “but I don’t mind you asking about it. I’m sure everyone will be asking me questions once they know I was there.”
“You can always tell them to mind their own business. You can always tell me that too.”
I smiled. “That’s all right. If I hadn’t been involved, I’d be asking plenty of questions. I’m not exactly lacking in curiosity.” That was an understatement.
“If you don’t mind questions, then I’m going to ask you about Grayson.”
“What about him?” I suspected I already knew.
“I heard he was with you when you found the body.”
“Technically, he found Jade. But, yes, we were both there.” I took a sip of coffee. “What else have you heard?” I wondered if I really wanted to hear the answer.
“That the two of you were out that way for a secret rendezvous.”
I dropped my head to the bar, resting my forehead against the polished surface. “You heard that from Gretchen Dingle?”
“The news was delivered in gleeful tones.”
I groaned. I didn’t know Gretchen Dingle, but I knew her reputation. Spreading rumors was her superpower. It didn’t matter if they were true or not. As soon as Gretchen got hold of some tasty tidbit of fact or fiction, there was no stopping its spread through town.
Shontelle patted my back. “You’re both unattached adults, you know. You don’t need to be sneaking around.”
I raised my head. “We weren’t sneaking around! Well, maybe we were, but not for that.”
“So your romantic affiliation is no longer a secret?”
“We don’t have a romantic affiliation!”
Shontelle was smiling, and her eyes were bright with amusement. “The lady doth protest too much, me thinks.”
This time I dropped my head into my hands.
Shontelle nudged my arm. “You know I’m teasing.”
I lowered my hands. “I do. I’m just imagining the whole town talking about me and Grayson when there is no me and Grayson.”
“Do you want there to be?” Shontelle asked.
She was always interested in the possibility of the two of us getting together.
“Every time I’m with him, I end up embarrassing myself,” I said, dodging her question.
“I don’t think he minds.”
“I do.”
She took a drink of coffee, but not before I noticed her knowing smile.
“But what do you mean?” I asked, my curiosity nudged wide awake.
She set down her mug. “I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re extra cute when you’re flustered.”
A hint of warmth touched my cheeks. “I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.”
A ding sounded from the kitchen, signaling that Shontelle’s lunch was ready.
Saved by the bell, I thought as I slipped off the stool.
Shontelle stayed at the Inkwell for another half hour, but she didn’t bring up Grayson or Jade again. I was much happier talking about Kiandra and I told Shontelle I’d take her daughter skating on Sunday morning, as long as the weather allowed it.
By midafternoon, business hadn’t picked up at all. That left me with too much time to think and I soon grew antsy. I wanted to take action, to find answers to some of the questions swirling around in my head like snowflakes caught in a swift current of wind.
Mel assured me she could hold down the fort, so I decided to take some time away for sleuthing. I questioned the wisdom of my decision as soon as I stepped out the door. The snow hadn’t eased up at all; it was coming down so hard that I could barely see twenty feet in front of me.
I spent several minutes shoveling the walkway and footbridge, but then I tugged my hat down farther over my ears and ventured across the street.
Chapter 23
My first destination was the thrift shop on Ashcroft Road. When I was halfway there, I realized I probably should have texted Alma to see if she was free to meet with me and where. She worked at the store part-time, but I didn’t know her schedule. She easily could have been at home, or anywhere else.
I left my phone in my pocket and kept trudging along. With snowflakes falling thickly and an icy wind whistling through town, I didn’t want to remove my gloves to use it. If Alma wasn’t at the thrift shop, at least I could take advantage of the shelter to send her a text message.
As it turned out, that wasn’t necessary. A woman named Gertrude was behind the counter, but when I asked if Alma was in, she directed me to the shop’s back room. I stayed on the welcome mat until I’d brushed snow from my coat and stomped it off my boots. Then I made my way through the maze of shelves and clothing racks to the open door at the back of the store. There I found Alma sorting a big box of clothing that someone had donated.
I perched on a tall, three-legged stool and she kept working while we chatted. I explained that I was on a mission to find out who, if anyone, might have had a connection to Jade.
“Did you speak to her at all before or during the ice sculpture competition?” I asked.
“Oh, sure.” Alma flicked her slightly wild, graying hair over her shoulder before picking up a red T-shirt. “I talked to her on the phone a few weeks ago when she was looking to get Freddy registered to compete. I e-mailed her the schedule and rules a few days after that, and I spoke to her briefly a couple of times while she was in town.” She folded the T-shirt and set it on top of a tidy pile to her right. “I can’t believe she’s dead. What a shame. Why would anyone want to kill her? Freddy I can understand, but not her.”
“I’m hoping I can find out why. That might lead me to the who.”
Alma pulled a yellow and white sundress from the box. “I wish I could help, but we only ever talked about the competition. And I really don’t know anything about her.”
“That’s all right. What about the other people involved in organizing the competition? Did any of them have contact with Jade? The supervisors, maybe?”