by Lynn Cahoon
“You might as well ask. You’ve already disturbed my meditation.” He didn’t move. Which was a little creepy.
“I just realized I hadn’t asked you how many bikes they’d rented. Four, right? Or was it five?”
“Three people, three bikes. The other guy said he had a headache and was going back to the room to sleep.”
“Two girls and a guy, right?” Moon hadn’t been with them when they rented the bikes. At least the possible killers were narrowing. Unless Moon hadn’t gone back to the room at all. Maybe Mary would know.
“Two chicks, two roosters. Only one rooster rented a bike.” He sighed and lifted his head. “Don’t tell me you want me to get you his name. I’m working on my tan.”
His tan was about as deep as the bark of the oak tree next to his shop. But I guess it took a bit of work for it to stay that way. Austin was the clichéd California dropout. The bike-rental place probably kept him in surfing trips and fish tacos. But he didn’t seem to aspire to more.
“No, that’s all I needed. Thanks for chatting with me. Enjoy your day.”
He leaned back and closed his eyes again. But before I could walk away, he spoke. “You’re a good kid. You know that, right?”
Dustin Austin had never said anything nice to me in the whole time I’d lived in South Cove. He must be softening to my charm. In another ten, twenty years, he might even look me in the eye when we spoke. “Thanks, you too.”
I walked away from the exchange a little lighter. I couldn’t help it, I wanted people to like me. And when they didn’t for no good reason, like Austin’s prior impression, the rejection wore on me. My aunt didn’t care if people liked her or not. That was one trait I wished I’d inherited.
I thought about my to-do list. Drop off the cheesecake, then I’d probably stop at Diamond Lille’s on the way home for dinner. Once I was home, I’d dive into the mystery I had stuck in my tote. Reading was part of my job. I had to be able to recommend books to my customers. My steps were lighter, just thinking about the hours I’d have free to enjoy the story. I was almost next to him before he spoke.
“Well, if it isn’t the cop’s girlfriend. You want an Irish coffee? I’ve got a lot of stock to get rid of.” Ned Jones sat outside the Watering Hole with a large cup in front of him. From the look of his eyes, he’d been drinking for a while.
“I’m good. I’m on a mission.”
“Are you sure? I’ve got a smooth Iced Irish Cream, or maybe you’d rather have a Leprechaun. It’s mint and chocolate.” He put down his paper. “Come on, have a drink with me.”
“I’m really on my way somewhere. Maybe next time.” Something Greg had said yesterday made me pause. “Did you have someone steal a bottle from you yesterday?”
“Freaking A.” He blushed, then ran a hand over his jaw. “Sorry for the foul language; my mama taught me better than that. Anyway, yes, this creep comes in with his buddies and their girls. I guess the guy felt like the odd man out, so he had to prove something.”
“Do you remember the other people with him? Was the girl who died one of the group?” Now I was excited. This could be if not a clue, at least another spot on my timeline for the group.
“This girl?” He pointed to the front-page photo of Alana. It had to have been a professional shot, but she was years younger. He squinted at the picture again. “I think so. There were so many people in here yesterday, it’s hard to say. But that little turd that stole from me, I gave your boyfriend a good description of him yesterday. If I see him again, he’s going to regret coming into my place.”
It actually would have been too easy for me to get another piece for my timeline just by asking. I started to tell Ned I’d see him later when a crash came from the bar area.
“Cripes, what’s happening now.” He scurried into the darkened bar, where a young bartender stood, staring at the television in the corner. “What’s wrong with you?”
She still had the remote in her hands when she turned to face Ned. “That girl who died. She was in my section yesterday. I heard her arguing with her friend. She was happy and alive yesterday, and now she’d dead.”
I could see the shock on the young woman’s face as the gravity of the situation sank in.
“Now, Kia, there’s no reason to get upset. People die. Sometimes you know them, sometimes you don’t. It’s the cycle of life.” He took the remote and changed the television to one of the many sports channels. “Why don’t you sit for a bit and calm down? The bar’s empty anyway.”
Kia nodded and walked to one of the tables. I saw a full coffeepot behind the bar and poured her a cup, setting it in front of her. “Drink this. Do you need sugar or creamer? “
She shook her head. “I take it black.”
I thought that was good, because I hadn’t seen anything to offer her, and Ned had disappeared into the back. “So you talked to Alana? What was she fighting with her friend about? Did you hear?”
The bartender scrubbed her face with her hands, then took a sip of the coffee. “That’s what makes it all worse. The girl, Alana, you called her?”
I nodded, hoping she knew more.
“Well, Alana told her friend…I think her name was Cassidy or something.”
“Carla.” I provided the name Alana had given me twenty-four hours before.
Kia looked at me in surprise. “Yeah, Carla, that was it. Anyway, she waited for the three guys to go grab a game of pool. Then she told her that she was going to say yes. Isn’t that ultra-romantic? The guy had asked her last week, and now she was going to surprise him.”
“Wait, you said they were arguing? Why wouldn’t Carla want her to get engaged?” This wasn’t making much sense.
“Yeah, that chick was hot. She told the other girl all the reasons why she shouldn’t marry that guy. He had a weird name.” Kia tapped her black nails on the table as she tried to bring back more details.
“Moon?”
“Okay, now you’re scaring me. It was Moon. Which I thought was a totally lame name for a guy.” A hint of a smile curved Kia’s lips as she continued the story. “Anyway, the other girl, the one that’s dead, she told this Carla chick to mind her own business.”
“Then what happened?” I leaned closer in my chair.
Kia shrugged. “I don’t know. I had to go pick up another table, and by the time I got back, the men were back with them, and they all seemed to be getting along. But I could see the looks this Carla was giving her friend. It’s sad. A lot of friendships end over a guy. And that poor girl is going to have to live with the fact that she was angry with her friend the last time they were ever together.”
I saw Ned come around the bar. He was looking at me like I was the problem and making Kia cry. I stood and patted her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Like Ned said, things happen. You can’t control everything, just what’s in your own path.”
As I left the bar under the watchful eye of Ned, I wondered if my cover of trying to sooth Kia would hold, or would Greg get an earful about how I was grilling Ned’s employee? I hoped it would be the latter. Greg didn’t like it when he had to listen to complaints about my playing private eye. Although, to be fair, Ned had stopped me to talk.
I made my way down Main Street and past the police station. Greg’s truck wasn’t sitting in its normal spot, so he must still be in Bakerstown. I hoped he’d be able to go home and sleep tonight. He took his job seriously, and I knew he’d be wanting to solve Alana’s murder as soon as he could. One, to bring her dad some peace, but two, so his life would go back to the more boring activities he had as head of a small-town police station.
I also had a selfish reason for wanting Alana’s killer found. I wanted my boyfriend back.
Chapter 7
Mary’s car was in the driveway when I arrived at South Cove Bed and Breakfast. I knocked on the front door, but when no one answered, I let myself inside and m
ade my way to the kitchen. Mary sat at the table. All around here were photographs of the bed and breakfast. She glanced up as I came in and waved me toward her.
“Let me take that cheesecake off your hands. I’m going to tuck it away in the fridge until after dinner. Unless you want a slice before you head home?” She paused, her hands on the box, and studied my face. Concern flooded over her own, and she set the box on the table. “Are you all right? You look worn to the bone.”
Leave it to Mary to be the mothering type. That was probably why her business was so successful. She cared about people. “I’m fine. We’ve just had a busy weekend, that’s all. Go ahead and put away the cake. I don’t need the calories today. Or the temptation.”
Mary giggled, and her face lit up like she was a teenager. “I know what you mean about temptation. Your aunt and I have been taking senior yoga down at the recreational center. Our instructor is convinced sugar is the root of all evil. So I’m trying to be good.”
I didn’t know Aunt Jackie was taking yoga. I guess I thought she stayed upstairs in her apartment and watched her shows. I wondered what else I didn’t know about my aunt. Pushing that line of thought out of my mind, I picked up one of the pictures. “Your house is so lovely. What architectural style is this called again?”
“You’d have to ask Bill. He’s the historian. Right now, I’m trying to pick out a few pictures for our new brochure. The designer wants these by Monday. I’m torn, but I don’t want to send him all of them.” Mary put the box with the cheesecake into the fridge and then sank back down into her chair. “I thought the house would be empty today and I’d have a ton of time to work on this, but I had people ask to stay over after that awful business. Her young man is heartbroken.”
“Are they still here?” I thought about how I might bring up the questions I had without sounding like I was, well, doing what I was actually doing. Investigating.
“They’re leaving in a couple of hours. Toby came by and did the interviews for Greg this morning and told them they could return home. The whole thing’s so sad.” Mary moved some of the pictures to the side. “I don’t like the angle on these. Do you agree?”
Just then my phone rang. I checked the caller ID; it was Greg. I smiled at Mary as I answered the phone. “Hey, handsome. What are you doing for dinner? Can I talk you into meeting me at Lille’s?”
“Sorry, I’m grabbing burgers right now at Bob’s. Maybe tomorrow night this case will have me a little less crazy. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something. You said you’d seen that Alana had on an engagement ring?”
I shook my head, even though Greg couldn’t see the reaction. “No, I said Carrie said she was wearing an engagement ring. Why?”
A pause held for so long, I’d thought I’d lost the connection.
“Greg?”
“I’m here. Doc Ames said there was no ring on her finger when he picked up the body from the beach last night.”
“What? Someone took it?” I saw the question in Mary’s gaze, and I held up a finger, holding off her questions. “That’s disgusting.”
“Well, it might be the motive. Maybe she was off to the side and someone attacked her for the ring. I hate to think that someone would stoop that low, just for a piece of jewelry, but I’ll have Toby go talk to Carrie and get a description. Then I’ll start calling pawn shops.” He called out a thank-you to the drive-up employee. “My food is here. I’ll talk to you later. Thanks for the info.”
And then he was gone. I hung up the phone. Mary’s eyes were wide. “Did Greg solve the case?”
I tucked my phone back into the tote, wondering how much to tell her that wouldn’t scare her. A random mugging gone wrong wasn’t the best scenario. But it was better to be honest than beat around the bush. “He thinks she was killed for her engagement ring. She was wearing it at the diner, but she didn’t have it on when Doc Ames picked her up last night. Crazy, right?”
“It’s so sad. No wonder that boy is so devastated. I didn’t realize they were engaged. I didn’t see any ring on her finger. But you know I don’t pry. What couples do in their relationship isn’t my business.” She sat down the photo she’d been holding. “Maybe Carrie had the wrong couple. The other girl, Carla, she’s been wearing her engagement ring all day. I assumed her boyfriend had popped the question, but he left early this morning. They all drove here in separate cars. Can you believe it?”
“Are you sure Carla was wearing an engagement ring?” My stomach felt sick. I didn’t like what I was thinking. I took the phone back out of my tote, but before I could call Greg, a voice came from behind me.
“She didn’t deserve Moon. She only said yes because her dad was pushing her to settle down. What kind of a relationship would that be? Why would she even think of stealing him?” Carla stood in the doorway, her duffel in her hand and madness in her eyes. “Anyway, I’m leaving. All Moon wants to do is cry over some girl who didn’t love him. Why couldn’t he see me? I loved him more than Alana ever could.”
Mary and I sat, dumbfounded, as we heard her steps on the hardwood flooring of the hallway, then the entryway. I hit speed dial on my phone. There was no way Greg would be here fast enough to pick her up before she disappeared. But Toby wasn’t too far away.
“Nine one one. What’s your emergency?” Esmeralda’s voice felt like a welcoming beacon.
My gaze met Mary’s. The woman looked stricken. “Esmeralda, we need Toby to come to Main Street Bed and Breakfast as soon as possible. And can you call Greg back from Bakerstown? We know who killed Alana.”
After I’d made the call, Mary stood up and left the room. When she came back, she locked the back door before sitting down again. “I don’t want her coming back and taking care of the loose ends.”
Chapter 8
Two weeks later, Sasha and I were cleaning up after the Business-to-Business meeting. Greg had given a report on safety during festivals, and although he didn’t mention Alana by name, it was clear that her death had prompted the updates. People still milled around the shop, chatting in hushed voices. Carla had been pulled over by the state police on Highway 1, heading toward Mexico, I guess. The ring sparkled on her left hand. Moon had identified it by the engraving inside. All my love forever. Then he’d broken down in tears.
Greg had told me the whole story when he’d come by the next day with a pizza and a six-pack of beer for dinner. He’d said it was my reward for staying safe even when I had bungled my way into a killer’s path.
Sasha glanced around the still-buzzing room. “Usually you can’t get them to stay. Now they won’t leave.”
“They want the connection.” I got it. Alana being killed during one of the festivals felt like we’d done something wrong, even if we hadn’t.
I felt a touch on my arm and turned to see a short, petite woman with the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. And her bright red hair almost sparkled in the sunlight that was shining in the large windows. I’d never seen her before. “Can I help you?”
“I just wanted to thank you and the town for the lovely St. Patrick’s Day celebration. So often the day passes by without even a mention. The saints would be pleased with your efforts.”
I glanced around the now-emptying room. “Thanks. We try to please all our visitors, even the saints.”
“You are teasing me a bit. I understand.” The woman’s eyes twinkled. “But, Jill, St. Patrick’s is the holiest of holy days for us who believe. I just wanted to let you know I appreciated it.”
“Thanks, I’ll pass the word on to Darla Taylor. She’s really the guiding force behind our festivals.” I studied the woman. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. Although I guess you know my name.”
She twirled, and the green skirt she wore reminded me of a tutu I had had when I was a child and in ballet classes. That one had been bright pink though. She ended in a curtsy and bowed. “I’m Gertie. I’m sure I’ll see you around,
Jill.”
And then she almost danced out of the room. I finished adjusting chairs, placing them where they belonged, and then took the last empty carafe to the coffee bar. “She was different.”
“Who?” Sasha glanced around the empty shop. “Come on, spill, you know I love Business-to-Business gossip.”
“The woman I was talking to just now. Red hair. She said her name was Gertie.” I watched as Sasha’s gaze took in the shop again.
“I guess I didn’t see her.”
I didn’t press the issue, but I had a funny feeling that if I asked anyone at the meeting, no one would remember seeing the woman.
Greg came in from the back room with a slice of chocolate cheesecake.
“I didn’t think that meeting would ever be over. Why don’t we go play hooky for the afternoon and ride our bikes down on the trail? We could stop for lunch at that Italian place you like down the highway.” He polished off the cheesecake.
“That’s almost five miles.” I took the empty plate from him and rinsed it in the sink before setting it in the dishwasher. “I’ll be starving by then.”
“Then you’ll appreciate your lunch.” He grabbed my tote bag and put an arm around me. “Say good-bye to Sasha. It’s time for us to spend a day together. Without any outside drama.”
“You two are so cute.” Sasha waved.
“Aunt Jackie might be upstairs if you need her.” I called back over my shoulder.
Sasha called back, “I won’t. Go have fun, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As we made our way down Main Street, I turned to Greg. “Did you know Aunt Jackie is taking yoga?”
Gertie’s St. Patrick’s Cheesecake
Ingredients
2 pre-made chocolate graham cracker crusts
Filling
4 oz semisweet chocolate chips