I was quite surprised. “Then who is going to preside over the funeral?”
Selena shrugged. “I don’t have a clue. I only know it’s not going to be a minister.” She walked away, her fresh blonde highlights sparkling under the harsh fluorescent lights.
“That is quite irregular,” Matilda said. “I’m surprised. James can’t have been exaggerating about his financial situation.”
“I couldn’t sleep last night so I did some research on my laptop,” I told her, “and the figures he told us do check out. I found out that a book that was selling as well as hers for seventy cents would bring in two thousand dollars over three months. She only made one third of seventy cents on every sale, whereas if she had sold the book for around three dollars, she would have made around two dollars on every sale.”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this,” Matilda said.
“James said she spent over fifteen thousand dollars on advertising to get her book into that bestselling spot,” I pointed out. “That’s a terrible financial loss, just as James said.”
“I thought he was exaggerating at least a little,” Matilda said. She gestured around the room. “But apparently not.”
“You don’t think he’s pretending, do you? I mean if he is the murderer, would he pretend to be broke?”
“For what purpose?” Matilda asked me. “At any rate, this doesn’t bode well for the refreshments.”
It was my turn to be confused. “What refreshments?”
“After funerals they usually serve refreshments and they’re free,” Matilda said with a wide smile. “I always look forward to that part.”
“Well, maybe he has plenty of her cupcakes left over,” I said. “Maybe he froze them.”
Matilda’s nose wrinkled with disgust. “I hope he has some fresh ones too.”
“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. Let’s get our seats.” I gestured to the ten rows of black, plastic, fold-up chairs.
“I don’t think there’s any rush. There’s hardly anyone here.”
I looked at my watch and then looked around the room. The service was about to start and indeed, the room was still bare. I recognized Karen Francis and there were another fifteen or so people I didn’t recognize.
Brian Birch hurried through the door and caught my eye. He waved and strode over to us. “I thought I’d be late. Gosh, there’s no one here. Still, I’m not surprised. It’s lovely to see you again, Jane.”
The sound of a throat being cleared made me look up straight into the deep blue eyes of Detective Damon McCloud.
“May I speak with you a moment?” he said, adding in a firm voice, “In private.”
My stomach churned. “Sure.” My voice came out as a squeak.
Damon took me by the elbow and led me over to a corner where I stood under a large potted palm. It was a magnificent Peace Lily and was in excellent health despite having no natural light. I poked it and discovered it was made of plastic. I bit my lip. I wondered what Damon was going to say to me. I didn’t have long to find out.
“Jane, what are you doing here?” He spoke slowly.
“I’m here with Matilda,” I said, wondering just how angry he was.
He folded his arms over his chest. “Are you investigating?”
I tried to hedge the question. “We were here when Judy Jenkins died.” I quickly amended that to, “We were here when Judy Jenkins’s body was found. I don’t know when she died.”
“And in your investigating, have you discovered the time of death?”
“I didn’t ask anyone,” I said truthfully. I shot him what I hoped was a winning smile, but he continued to frown at me.
“Jane, I do have my suspicions, but there’s no evidence yet. I’d ask you to stay away from all the suspects just to be on the safe side. Every suspect,” he said forcefully.
“Sure.” I plastered an innocent look on my face. “Who are the suspects I should stay away from?”
Damon frowned deeply. “Good try, Jane. Please stay away from every single person in this room, except for Matilda, of course. I mean it. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He opened his mouth and would have said more, but Detective Stirling appeared at his shoulder. He showed Damon his phone and two of them moved away.
I hurried back over to Matilda who now had a seat at the back of the room. “Now, that wasn’t as bad as you thought, was it?” she said in a cheery time.
“It was much worse,” I admitted. “He said he has his suspicions as to who the murderer is and he asked me to stay away from everyone in the room.” Matilda pouted and adjusted her hairpin. It suddenly occurred to me that her hairpin could be used as a weapon. I wondered if that was why she wore it.
“Even me?” Her tone was plaintive.
I shook my head. “No, of course not.”
“But you said he said to stay away from everyone in this room.”
Now I knew exactly how Eleanor felt. “He said except for you, Matilda.”
Matilda looked pleased. “There aren’t many suspects and that is going to make our time easier. Keep your eye on the four suspects: the IT guy, Brian, the husband, James, the manager, Karen, and the rival, Selena.”
“What am I looking for exactly?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “I have no clue, but that doesn’t mean something won’t happen. Stare at them throughout the service and see how they are all acting.”
“But the murderer will pretend to be sad,” I protested.
“You never know what you’ll see,” Matilda said. “Now hush, it’s about to begin.”
James walked to the front and started a PowerPoint presentation. They were all photos of Judy with various animals, cats, dogs and pet pigs. In each photo she was pulling a rather terrible face.
“Why is she doing that?” I asked Matilda.
“I have no idea. It appears to be an attempt at comedy. Is she trying to look like the animals?”
“If she is, she’s not doing a very good job of it,” I said. “It seems quite a strange thing to do.”
After showing about fifty slides in quick succession, James said, “My wife Judy and I had been married for years. She produced a successful cupcake cookbook. She used to buy dogs and cats from shelters and take photographs of them. I think she loved her business more than she loved me.”
The nervous chuckle went up through the audience, but I wasn’t certain James had been joking.
He spoke at some length about Judy, how they had met and how she was devoted to producing her cookbook. After he finished speaking, he started another PowerPoint presentation showing their wedding photos.
“It’s quite sad, isn’t it?” I said to Matilda.
“Funerals always are,” she agreed.
After James finished, he nodded to someone in the front row. I couldn’t make out who it was, but then Karen Francis stood up. She spoke eloquently and at length about what a wonderful person Judy Jenkins was.
“She could be the murderer,” Matilda said, “because she’s a really good liar. We both know that Judy wasn’t a wonderful person.”
“But you can’t blame Karen for saying she was,” I said. “She’s only being nice.” I shot a look at Matilda’s face, but she was clearly unconvinced.
After Karen finished speaking, James stood up again. “The gravesite is going to be a private affair, with only Judy’s relatives and my relatives. It will be next week at a date to be determined. I’m very grateful that you have come today to show your support. Please stay for some coffee or drinks and some cake. Everyone is welcome to stay.” He waved his hand expansively and then stepped back to the front row of seats, nearly knocking over a giant photo of Judy as he did so.
“The poor man,” I said. “My heart goes out to him. Not only has he lost his wife, but now he’s in a mountain of debt.”
“I wonder if the police haven’t released her body yet?” Matilda said.
I nodded to Detective Stirling. “Why don’t you
go and ask the detectives?”
“They won’t tell me, of course. Maybe I could ask James.”
“No, you’ll upset him if you say such a thing,” I said. “Anyway, it seems obvious that they haven’t released the body yet, because James said the date was to be determined.”
Matilda disagreed. “I expect he’s waiting for relatives to arrive from overseas.”
It was my turn to disagree. “They are probably already here. Anyone would have had plenty of time to arrive here, even from the other side of the world.”
Matilda bit her lip. “I suppose it doesn’t matter either way. We know the murder weapon was thallium. We just don’t know the identity of the murderer.” She seized my shoulders and turned me a half turn. “Don’t look now, but your detective is staring at you. He probably wants to see if you will mingle with the suspects.”
Before I could say anything, she added, “Suspect alert! Brian Birch is heading our way.”
“Are you staying for some cake?” Brian asked me moment later.
“Yes, we are,” I said taking Matilda’s arm. I certainly didn’t want him to single me out. His aftershave was overpowering. Maybe it was men’s cologne, but it smelled something akin to the disinfectant Eleanor used. I fought the urge to sneeze.
“Come this way,” he said. “Champagne?”
I shook my head. “I’m driving. Thanks anyway.”
“I’m not driving,” Matilda said. “But champagne at a funeral—isn’t that a little unusual?”
“It would have been left over after the book launch,” Brian said. “Poor James is in a tight financial position, so he’s using the leftovers.”
“Are the cakes fresh?” Matilda said.
“I suppose.” Brian appeared doubtful. He picked up the closest cake and poked it. “Yes, this one is.”
I looked over at James who was still speaking with Karen Francis.
Matilda followed my gaze. “Karen seems to be quite a comfort to James. That poor man probably needs some sugar. Should you take him one of these chocolate cupcakes, Jane?” She handed me a plate.
“He doesn’t like chocolate,” Brian said.
Matilda gasped. “Who doesn’t like chocolate?”
Brian chuckled. “That’s what Judy was always saying to James. I think she was a little annoyed that he didn’t like chocolate. She said he always refused to eat the chocolate cupcakes she made.”
“Did everyone know that?” I asked him.
Brian frowned. “I suppose so. Why?”
I shook my head. “Just curious, I guess.” I tried to think of something to change the subject, but Matilda came to my rescue.
“Are James and Karen very good friends?”
Brian chuckled again. “I don’t think there’s anything going on between them, if that’s what you mean.”
Matilda narrowed her eyes. I could see she wasn’t quite so sure. No doubt Matilda thought James and Karen were in it together.
“The police don’t seem to have any suspects,” I said, hoping to draw out Brian in case he knew something.
“No, which is puzzling. I thought they would have arrested someone by now.” He popped a cupcake in his mouth and then pulled a face. “Eek. This one has obviously been frozen and thawed. Don’t eat the vanilla ones.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I said with a laugh, but then saw that Damon was staring at me.
Within moments, he appeared at my side again. “Jane, could I have a word with you in private?”
Brian looked quite put out. “Another one?”
Damon ignored him and once mustered me away to stand by the plastic Peace Lily. “Jane, remember I said not to speak with any of the suspects?”
“But I can hardly avoid it, can I?” I protested. “I didn’t think you meant in a public place like this. Everyone is mingling so I can’t see what else I could do.”
“Please try to avoid them when you leave here and don’t accept any invitations.” Damon hesitated a moment and then walked away to rejoin Detective Stirling.
Matilda appeared at my side. “What was that about?”
“He didn’t like me speaking with Brian,” I said.
“He’s jealous,” she said.
“No, he couldn’t be,” I began, at the same time hoping he was, but she interrupted me.
“I mean Damon is worried Brian could be the murderer, and he doesn’t like you speaking with him because Damon has feelings for you. That’s what I meant to say,” she clarified.
“I must cook you dinner,” a voice said behind me.
I turned around to see Brian.
My stomach sank. How could I get out of this one?
Chapter 15
After the funeral, I swapped Matilda for Eleanor. To my dismay, Eleanor insisted upon bringing Mr. Crumbles. “He doesn’t like being alone and I’ve left him alone for too long,” she said.
It seemed to take her an age to put his things in my car—his cat litter tray as well as his water bowl and food bowl as well as a large box of treats. I had memories of trying to get the cat litter crystals out of my car after the last time this happened. I shook my head but did not comment. Maybe I should have worn some perfume, or at least sprayed the car with it. We weren’t off to a good start.
Eleanor caught me staring at the cat litter. “It’s a long drive,” she said, “and I don’t want to take him for a bathroom break on the way because it wouldn’t be safe.”
“Are you going to wait in the car while I question the people at the post office?” I asked her.
She looked horrified. “Of course not! Everyone knows you can’t leave cats alone in a car.”
“I’m sure cats aren’t allowed in post offices either,” I countered.
Eleanor shook her head. “No, I’ve only seen signs that say dogs aren’t allowed. I’m fairly certain I have never seen a sign that says cats aren’t allowed.”
I rubbed my forehead. I wished Matilda were there to deal with Eleanor, but I would just have to make do the best I could.
Soon we were on our way heading to Ellende. I had heard of the town, but I had never been there before. At least Eleanor was a superb navigator.
Eleanor wasn’t as chatty as Matilda and I spent most of the time looking out at the scenery, not that I could take a good look given that I was driving. I had to admit that Lancaster had beautiful scenery, those charming covered bridges, the endless rolling hills, field after field of pretty wildflowers, and countless Amish barns.
When we arrived at Ellende, it wasn’t hard to find the post office. After all, there wasn’t much to this town. “I’m still puzzled as to why the murderer chose this post office,” I said. “It keeps bugging me that someone could be identified here.”
“We’ll know more after we question them,” Eleanor said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Eleanor put the harness on Mr. Crumbles before she opened the door. She stepped outside, holding his leash in one hand and a large box of cat treats in the other. We walked to the concrete stairs and Mr. Crumbles sniffed them. While I was waiting for him to move on, I took the opportunity to study the building. It was made of red brick with white wooden trim on the doors and windows. The roof was gray, and a white spire stood directly over the doorway. The building, while pretty enough, was small and unremarkable.
A wave of hope washed over me. Surely the post office assistant in such a small town would remember a stranger posting packages.
As we walked in the door, a lady peered over the countertop at Mr. Crumbles. “What have we here?” she said with a laugh.
“He’s my cat,” Eleanor said.
I had expected the woman to order Mr. Crumbles out of the building, or at least say that animals were banned inside the post office, but she did no such thing. “What a cute kitty,” she said, “and so well-behaved too. Did it take you long to train him to walk on a leash?”
“He’s still in training,” Eleanor said with a smile. She walked over to the lady and stuck out her hand.
“I’m Eleanor Birtwistle and this is my associate, Jane Delight. I’m here on behalf of the Birtwistle Sisters Private Investigators firm.”
My jaw fell open. We hadn’t actually discussed how we would question the people at the post office.
Eleanor pushed on. “A lady was murdered by thallium poison the other day…” She would have said more, but the woman interrupted her.
“Oh yes! The police have been here.”
Of course they had. Why hadn’t that occurred to me?
“Yes, we are aware of that, but it would be a great help if you wouldn’t mind repeating the information for us.” Eleanor bent down and picked up Mr. Crumbles.
The lady reached out to stroke him. “I’m Sue Andrews.”
“And this is Mr. Crumbles,” Eleanor said.
Sue reached over to stroke Mr. Crumbles and he purred so loudly he shook. “What did you want to know?” she asked. “I suppose you’re going to ask if I remember a stranger who posted packages on a regular basis to Judy Jenkins?”
“That’s right,” Eleanor said.
“You knew Judy Jenkins?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “I had never heard of her, but the police mentioned her address and that’s when I remembered the person who posted the regular packages. She wasn’t inclined to chat. In fact, she barely said a word. Most times when I comment people respond, but this woman didn’t.”
“Oh, it was a woman, was it?” Eleanor said. “What did she look like?”
Sue held up both hands, palms to the ceiling. “I don’t have a clue, to be honest. She always wore a huge straw hat, a scarf over her hair, big dark glasses, and plenty of make up.”
“Was sort of build was she?” Eleanor asked.
“Medium,” she said. And she was about so tall.” She held her hand just a little over her head.
That wasn’t any help; Brian, James, Karen, and Selena were all about the same height.
“Did you notice anything else about her?” I asked her.
She nodded. “She always wore a lot of perfume. Quite a lot of perfume! It was that awful cheap perfume that always gets in my sinuses and gives me an instant headache,” she said. “In the end, I used to dread her coming in.”
Confection is Good for the Soul: An Amish Cupcake Cozy Mystery Page 10