by Kathi Daley
“In my office.”
“Let’s take a look.”
Mike walked down the hallway and I followed. He picked up the box and handed it to me as soon as we entered his office.
“Iowa.” I frowned. “The letter with the handwritten address originated in Iowa too. I’d be willing to bet they are connected.”
“So we have a letter and a report from Genocom, which was delivered on a Tuesday. We have a letter with an Iowa postmark, a handwritten address, but no return address, delivered on a Thursday. We also have a box from Iowa that was delivered to the local post office on Friday for delivery on the following Monday, but Brick somehow obtained possession of it before he died on Saturday.”
I nodded. “And the large envelope I thought might contain a magazine or a catalog but can’t be sure that it was either. That was delivered on Thursday as well. We need to take another look around Brick’s home and office. That handwritten note seems to be the missing link and it has to be somewhere.”
“Unless the killer knew about it and took it,” Mike pointed out.
“Well, yeah, I guess there’s that. By the way, did you ever figure out whose whiskey we found in Brick’s office?”
“There were no fingerprints on the glass, and it appeared that while someone poured the drink, they didn’t take a single sip.”
“Figures. I need to get back to my route, but if you find anything new, you can text me.”
I called Tilly and headed out of the station. I still had both Bree’s bookstore and my mom’s restaurant to deliver to. Both stops were guaranteed to be long ones. Maybe they would be busy and wouldn’t have time to chat. I supposed I could always text Tony to let him know that I might be late getting home. Of course, getting home and finding out if he had made progress on our other two mysteries was the very thing I most wanted to do.
“Afternoon, Bree,” I said as Tilly and I entered her store.
“Tess, I’m so glad you’re here. I am having another wedding emergency and you are just the one to help me figure it out.”
“Okay. What’s the problem?”
“Mike and I went to talk to the event coordinator at The Lakehouse last night. I really think that we might have found a venue, but I need to put down a deposit by the end of the day if we want her to hold it for us. The problem is, they have noise regulations for all outdoor events that forbid the use of live bands or almost anything other than the most subdued music after ten o’clock.”
“I guess that makes sense. There are homes in the area.”
“That’s what the woman said. But the plan we talked about, with the dinner first, followed by the ceremony and then the dancing, would mean we’d need to have music after ten. The woman said a stereo playing subdued music—the kind you’d find in a fine restaurant—was all right after ten, but a live band or any sort of system with large speakers was out.”
I slipped my bag off my shoulder and handed Tilly a treat. I could see this might take more than a few minutes. “Okay, so I see that you have several options. Either find another venue without the music limitation. Or you could move things up so that the entire reception, including the dancing, is over by ten. Or just plan on slow dancing to elevator music.”
“Mike really wants to have a live band. I think it was the number one thing on his list. My silly vows-under-the-stars thing is what is messing everything up. If not for that, we could have the ceremony at six, drinks immediately after, dinner at seven, and then dancing from eight to ten. We could do dinner and dancing to end at ten and get married last, but doing the vows after dancing really would seem anticlimactic.”
“You could get married in December. It’s dark by like four thirty in December.”
“And it is also too cold for an outdoor wedding,” Bree said.
“What if your wedding and reception were separate events?”
Bree frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Getting married under the stars seems really important to you, but it doesn’t work with a big reception with a live band and a catered dinner like Mike wants. What if you exchange your vows on Friday, with just the family? We could do it at Tony’s and have dinner after. Then, you can have a huge reception at The Lakehouse with a catered meal and a band on Saturday, if it’s available then. You could start at five or six and wrap it up by ten.”
Bree narrowed her gaze. “Would that be weird?”
I put my hands on Bree’s shoulders. “This is your wedding. Do what you want. The only people whose opinions matter are yours and Mike’s. Talk to him. My guess is that he will be all for a smaller group for the actual ceremony.”
Bree hugged me. “Okay. I’ll call him right now. I think your plan might just work.”
Mentally adding another check in the best-maid-of-honor-ever column, Tilly and I went on our way. I figured I’d stop by the restaurant toward the end of my route. If I popped in then, when Mom and Aunt Ruthie were ready to go home, maybe they wouldn’t pull me into a long conversation. I crossed the street and headed toward Grandma Hattie’s Bakeshop.
“Afternoon, Hattie,” I said as I handed her a stack of mail. “Something smells wonderful.”
“I’ve got gingersnaps in the oven. Special order for the Cub Scout meeting this afternoon.”
“Lucky kids. I never did have lunch. I don’t suppose you have something I can eat while I finish my route?”
“I have fresh blueberry muffins.”
“Perfect.”
Hattie opened a white to-go bag and slipped a muffin inside while Tilly walked over to say hi to Hattie’s dog, Bruiser.
“Any news about Brick’s murder?” Hattie asked after handing me the bag. “I know you tend to have an ear to the ground.”
“I know that Mike and Frank are looking at several different scenarios.”
“I heard that Dover Boswell was a suspect.”
I shook my head. “He was interviewed, but Mike told me he had an alibi for the night Brick was killed. I still don’t know where the truth lies in terms of him stealing from Brick, but I suppose that isn’t the important matter at this point. Did Brick ever say anything to you about DNA testing?”
Hattie shook her head. “Not that I recall. At least not recently. He popped in a few months ago after closing. I was cleaning up and had Cold Case Files on in the background. He made a comment about liking the show, and we had a conversation about how new DNA tests that were unavailable years ago were currently being used to solve decades-old cold cases. He seemed interested, so I told him about the guy who killed eight women more than thirty years ago only to be arrested all these years later after he signed up for one of those ancestry accounts and voluntarily submitted his DNA, which provided the feds with a match for the DNA left on one of the victims at the time of the murders. Crazy, isn’t it?”
“It is crazy. Did Brick mention having DNA he wanted to test?”
Hattie shook her head. “No. But he did get a look when I told him the story.”
“A look?”
“His eyes grew big. It seemed he was interested in what I had to say. I almost felt like my story hit home with him in some way. You don’t think that is what got him killed?”
“No, probably not. I was just curious. It seems there are a lot of rumors going around and it is hard to know what is fact and what is fiction.”
Hattie let out a short laugh. “Yeah, there are a lot of rumors all right. I even heard that Brick was doing drugs, which is just nonsense. The man was known to drink from time to time, but I’m quite sure he never messed around with anything harder than a whiskey at the end of the day. Folks like to be involved, so they spout off about things they don’t know anything about. But doing so risks the reputation of those who aren’t here to defend themselves. It just isn’t right.”
“I totally agree.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Listen, I need to get going. Thanks for the muffin.”
“Any time, my dear. I’ll save you a couple of gingersnaps for when you come by tomorrow.”
/> Tilly and I headed out into the sunshine. We needed to pick up the pace. We made good time with our next ten stops before coming to the last one of the day: Sisters’ Diner.
“Tess honey, I was wondering what had become of you,” Mom greeted me.
“I met with Mike and got behind. I’ve been playing catch-up all day, but you are my last stop. I can’t stay long, though. Tony is expecting me.”
“Met with Mike? Are you helping him with the murder case?”
“I wouldn’t say helping exactly, but he wanted me to help identify some mail I delivered in the week before Brick was shot. I bet everyone who comes in to eat here has something to say about it.”
Aunt Ruthie came out to the seating area from the kitchen. She must have heard us talking. “Everyone does seem to have an opinion about what is going on,” she said. “I even heard a couple of men who were in the same bowling league as Brick say that the killer was a hired gun.”
I frowned. “I doubt that. Why did they think so?”
Ruthie shrugged. “I really don’t know. If you ask me, they were just spouting off about things they knew nothing about, but I did notice that they managed to pull others who were seated in their vicinity into their conversation. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to hear that the hired gun theory has made the rounds of all the local gossip groups by tomorrow.”
I handed Mom a stack of mail. “I really should get going. Tony is working on a project with Shaggy, so he is going to be in town for a while. I think the kids and I are going to be staying out at his place as long as the weather holds. I’ll have my cell, but I wanted to let you know in case you noticed I wasn’t at the cabin.”
“And dinner on Sunday?”
I cringed. “I’m sorry; I forgot to ask Tony about it. I’ll call you later to confirm, but as far as I know, it should work fine.” Unless I am in Billings, tracking down Dad, I added in my head.
Chapter 8
I had to admit that I was getting pretty spoiled, having dinner ready for me each evening when I got home from work. Tony enjoyed cooking and he seemed to love having someone to cook for, so I knew I shouldn’t feel like I was taking advantage of him, but I did.
“I smell garlic,” I said as I walked in through the front door with Tilly on my heels.
Tilly greeted Tony and then trotted over to say hi to Titan.
“It’s linguine with broccoli, pine nuts, green olives, and feta cheese, topped with a buttery garlic sauce.”
I tossed my backpack onto a nearby chair. “Oh, I love your linguine with garlic sauce. Tonight is a good time to have it because I’m starving. All I managed to find time to eat was a muffin Hattie gave me for the road.”
“It’s just about ready and I have salad as a starter, so if you want to run up and change, I’ll get everything on the table.”
I kissed Tony on the lips. “Thank you. You are the king of boyfriends.”
Tony chuckled. “I do try. Do you want wine?”
“Maybe a glass with dinner. I’m hoping we have new clues to discuss.”
“I’ve managed to find a few more pieces to the puzzle, but I won’t go so far as to say I have any major breakthroughs to discuss. Go and change and we’ll talk while we eat.”
I jogged up the stairs to the bedroom Tony and I shared. He had a large house, and every room in it was pretty amazing, but I especially loved the effort he had taken to ensure that I would feel comfortable in the previously spartan bedroom. He’d purchased a new bed, as well as new furniture that had a woodsy feel that perfectly accentuated the river-rock fireplace and the wood-framed windows that looked out onto the private lake that occupied the center of his property. He’d convinced me to pick out new bedding in a color I liked, as well as a couple of soft, comfy chairs in which we could read in front of the fire on cold winter nights. During the warmer months, a glass door led out to a private deck that featured an outdoor fireplace, cozy deck furniture, and an outdoor spa in one corner. The bedroom was almost as large as my entire cabin if you added in the attached bath, which had seemed sort of extravagant to me initially, but after enjoying the comfort the room provided, I could see how one could get used to living an extravagant lifestyle.
After changing into jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, I headed back downstairs. Tony had set the table in the kitchen nook, which provided a wonderful view of the mountains.
“I have to say, I could easily get used to coming home to this every night.”
Tony poured my wine. “That is my evil plan.”
“Did you talk to Shaggy about the project?”
Tony sat down across from me. “I did. I think he is about as psyched about it as I’ve ever seen him, and this is the man who did cartwheels down Main Street when the new Zombie Hunters video game was released.”
I laughed. “Shaggy possesses a certain childlike quality that I both admire and find irritating. When are you going to start working on the new game?”
“Right away. He is going to come over on Saturday while you are dog training with Brady. We’ll use the time to map out the basic concept. Once I have that, I can start coding a mock-up that we can use to test our ideas. The project as a whole will take a while to complete, but I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Before I forget, my mom wants us to come to dinner on Sunday. I’m sure she is going to invite Mike and Bree as well.”
“I’d enjoy that. I always like spending time with your family.”
“I figured you would be fine with it, but I wasn’t sure how our search for my dad might interfere with any plans we might make.”
Tony set down his fork. He turned and looked at me. “The tight net I set up and hoped would provide us with additional localized hits didn’t result in anything, so I widened the parameters a bit and got a hit today from Saint Paul, Minnesota. It appears your dad is on the move and heading east at a fairly brisk pace. Anticipating his route will help us to focus our search and, I anticipate, will result in additional sightings, but it doesn’t seem as if he is going to be staying in one area, as we initially hoped. Again, I have to ask if you want me to continue to track him. If he is working for an agency or an individual with the capabilities we believe he has, he is going to figure out at some point that we are tracking him.”
“Let’s just keep an eye on his movements for now. I need to think things through. Part of me believes I should let it go and get on with my life, but another part that still wonders about the specifics hates to let go of the lead we have now that we seem to have an idea of where he may be heading.”
“If he picks up on the fact that we are tracking him, he may change his travel plans and lose him anyway, but for now, I’ll continue down the path I anticipate he is traveling and see where we end up. Have you said anything to Mike?”
I shook my head. “He’d just go off on a rampage and give up everything he is doing here to try to track him down. I’m sort of sorry that we told him what we did. Now that he knows that, I feel like I am lying to him by not keeping him in the loop, but he has a murder to solve and a wedding to plan, and the last thing he needs to be distracted by is a manhunt he is likely to come out on the losing end of.”
“I agree that we aren’t likely to catch up with your dad unless he wants to be caught up with. I almost wonder if he already knows about the hits we got over the past couple of days and is intentionally letting us know where he is.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I have no idea. I’ve never met him. I just think that he is skilled in the art of staying under the radar. For us to get two pretty plump hits in two days almost makes me think he intentionally let himself be photographed.”
Well, wouldn’t that be a twist. Could my dad actually be communicating with us or, more likely, playing with us?
“Was there anything unusual about the video images that matched up?” I asked.
“What do you mean by unusual?”
“Your program picked up images captured by surveillance cameras,
right?”
“The image captured in Billings was from a surveillance camera and the one in Saint Paul from a traffic cam. He ran a red light.”
“Don’t you think that it is odd for a man in hiding to run a red light in an area patrolled by traffic cams?”
“You think he intentionally ran the red light? Why?”
“Maybe he knows we are tracking him and he is playing with us.”
Tony frowned. “Seems risky. If your dad is on the run from someone, I would think he would have to assume that the someone he is hiding out from has access to the same facial recognition software I have. In fact, if he is on the run from a government agency, you can bet their software is even better than mine.”
I poked at my linguine. “Getting caught on a traffic cam seems sloppy and careless. My dad was neither.”
“Maybe someone was following him and stopping for a red light was not an option.”
I supposed Tony had a point. If my dad was being pursued, maybe running the light was the least objectionable move available to him. I picked up my fork and started eating again. “So, any new developments in the case of the missing fiancé?”
“I have contact information for Patrick’s sister Gwendolyn. I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do about it, so I haven’t done anything yet.”
“We should confirm that we have the right Patrick before I pass the information on to Jennifer Anne. Did you find the obituary? Do we know how Patrick died?”
“I haven’t found an obituary or any other information about Patrick’s death.”
“Let’s contact Gwendolyn and explain the situation. We’ll decide how to proceed after we get a feel for her reaction.”
Tony took a sip of his wine. “All right. Do you want another piece of bread?”
“No, I’m good. The food was delicious. I’ll help you with the dishes and then we can relax. I’d love to take the dogs for a walk. The sun has set, but the snow has melted and the lake trail is pretty dry. I think we’ll do fine with flashlights.”
“Sounds good to me. I could use a walk. I wanted to talk to you about Italy. We can talk while we walk.”