Crêpe Expectations

by Sarah Fox

  Chloe was waiting on the front porch when we pulled into the driveway. She was carrying a covered bowl, which she set on her lap once she was seated in the back of the truck’s cab.

  “What have you got there?” I asked once we were on the move again.

  “Fruit salad,” Chloe replied. “I figured it was a safe choice because there’s no cooking involved and my dad can eat it.”

  “I’m sure it will be delicious,” I said.

  Frank, Brett and Chloe’s dad, had suffered a heart attack a few months earlier. He was still going through the rehabilitation process, and he tired more easily than he used to, but he was recovering well. He was on a strict healthy diet now, though, one his wife was making sure he stuck to.

  “Is that the quinoa salad you brought to the barbecue last year?” Chloe asked, leaning forward to check out the plastic bowl in my lap.

  “It is.”

  “Yum. I didn’t even know I liked quinoa until I tried your salad.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” I said. “It’s one of my favorite dishes to make.”

  Brett slowed the truck to a stop at an intersection and waited as a pedestrian crossed the road.

  Chloe leaned forward again. “Hey, isn’t that Tyrone?”

  The pedestrian stepped up onto the sidewalk on our right.

  “It is!” Chloe tapped her brother on the shoulder. “Pull over.”

  “Hold on,” Brett said. He turned the corner before guiding the truck to the curb.

  Chloe hopped out of the vehicle, leaving the fruit salad on the seat.

  “Tyrone!” she called out, waving when he turned around.

  He didn’t smile when he spotted Chloe, but recognition flashed across his face and he headed our way.

  “Tyrone, as in the baseball player and Demetra’s boyfriend?” I asked quietly, getting out of the truck to join Chloe.

  “The one and the same,” she whispered. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

  I studied Tyrone as he covered the last few feet of distance to reach us. He was fairly tall, with an athletic build, despite his baseball career ending nearly a decade ago. He had dirty blond hair and a scruff of stubble on his jaw.

  Chloe smiled when he reached us. “I didn’t know you were in town. Where are you living now?”

  He had yet to return Chloe’s smile. “Seattle still.”

  “Do you remember my brother, Brett?”

  Brett hadn’t left the truck, but the passenger side door was open and he raised a hand in greeting. Tyrone acknowledged him with a nod.

  “And this is my brother’s girlfriend, Marley. Marley, this is Tyrone Phillips.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  He nodded again and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “How’ve you been?” he asked Chloe.

  It sounded like he was asking more out of politeness than interest.

  “Good, but it was tough to hear about Demetra, of course.”

  “Yeah, it’s crappy news.” He freed one hand from his pocket to scratch at the stubble on his jawline. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “The sheriff wants to talk to you?” Chloe guessed.

  His voice took on an edge. “No more than anyone else. My mom thought I should show my face here. It’s not like I don’t know that some people suspect me of hurting Demetra. Mom thought I’d seem less suspicious if I came back here. I don’t think it’ll change anyone’s mind, but if it’ll make her happy…” He shrugged and backed away from us. “Anyhow, I should get going.”

  “It was good to see you again,” Chloe said, but she was speaking to his back by then.

  “Not the friendliest guy,” I commented as we got back in the truck.

  “He never was, if I remember right,” Brett said, pulling away from the curb.

  “No, he wasn’t,” Chloe confirmed. “I wonder if it’s true that Ray’s no more interested in questioning him than any of the rest of us who were at the party that night.”

  “Would Ray tell you if you asked him?” I knew he wouldn’t want me asking, since he didn’t like my tendency to get involved in his investigations.

  “Probably not. He never shares all that much about his work. And since this is a murder investigation, he’ll likely be more tight lipped than usual.”

  I didn’t doubt she was right about that.

  “Do you think Tyrone could have killed Demetra?” I asked. “I know you said before that it’s possible, since he doesn’t have an alibi and might have had a motive, but what does your gut instinct tell you?”

  “I want to say there’s no way anyone I know or used to know could be a killer, but that’s what everyone wants to be able to say, right? Doesn’t make it true.” She fell silent for a moment. “He could have done it. I’ve always felt a bit uneasy around him. Maybe because he’s not very personable, or maybe because I know about his temper. Out of everyone who was at the party that night, he’s the one I have the least trouble picturing getting violent.”

  “How tall was Demetra?” I asked, thoughts turning around in my head.

  “Not as tall as me,” Chloe said. “Maybe five foot five?”

  A little bit shorter than me, then.

  “You’re thinking Tyrone easily could have overpowered Demetra,” Brett said with a glance my way.

  “Yes. Of course, we don’t know how she died, but at this point he seems like a solid suspect to me.”

  “I wish I could say otherwise,” Chloe said, “but I’d have to agree.”

  Chapter 11

  Dinner at the Collins house was a relaxed and happy affair. Mostly we chatted about Frank’s rehabilitation progress, the pancake house, Brett’s business, and Chloe’s job as a teacher. There was no mention of murder or human remains during the meal, and I was glad about that. Those topics might have put a damper on the evening, and I knew it troubled Chloe to think about her former classmate’s death.

  After we’d finished up the meal with Chloe’s fruit salad, Frank settled in a comfy armchair in the living room for a bit of a rest while Brett, Chloe, and I cleared the table.

  “Mom, you go sit down with Dad,” Chloe said once we’d transferred all the dirty dishes from the dining room to the kitchen.

  “Nonsense,” Elaine said as she opened the dishwasher. “I invited you over here. You shouldn’t have to do all the work.”

  “We don’t mind,” I said as I set a stack of plates on the counter. “And the three of us will make short work of it.”

  Brett put an arm around his mom’s shoulders and guided her toward the living room. “Go and relax, Mom. We’ll take care of everything in here.”

  “If you insist.” She smiled over her shoulder at me and Chloe. “Thank you.”

  As predicted, it didn’t take long for the three of us to get the dishwasher loaded and the kitchen cleaned.

  “Do you mind if we stick around a while so I can play some chess with my dad?” Brett asked as I washed my hands after wiping down the countertops.

  “Of course not.”

  A phone rang somewhere nearby, the sound muffled.

  “That’s mine,” Chloe said, grabbing her purse from a nearby chair and digging through it. When she checked the screen of the device, surprise registered on her face. “It’s Kyle.”

  “As in Deputy Kyle Rutowski?” I asked.

  She nodded as she answered the call.

  Although I was curious to know why the deputy was calling Chloe, I figured it might be a personal call and none of my business. Brett and Chloe had grown up with Kyle in Wildwood Cove. I didn’t know if Chloe hung out with Kyle at all these days, but I guessed from her reaction that it wasn’t common for him to call her. Still, I decided not to be nosy and followed Brett to the living room.

  I settled on the couch, and Brett produced a chessboard from a cabinet. He
and his dad were pulling up chairs to a small table when Chloe appeared in the doorway, a hint of anxiety creating a furrow across her forehead.

  “Kyle’s coming over in a few minutes,” she announced to the room.

  “Kyle Rutowski?” Elaine asked.

  Chloe nodded.

  “I’m guessing it isn’t a social visit,” Frank said.

  Chloe sank down on the couch beside me. “No. He says there’s something he wants to show me. It’s got something to do with Demetra, but he didn’t say anything more than that.”

  “Hopefully it’s just something routine,” her mom said.

  The doorbell rang before Chloe could say anything more.

  “That was fast,” Frank said.

  Chloe got up from the couch. “He said he was nearby.”

  She headed for the foyer to answer the door, and we heard a murmur of voices before she reappeared in the living room, Kyle right behind her. Dark-haired and of average height, Kyle was close in age to me and Brett. He was in uniform, his face serious, although he gave us a brief glimpse of a smile as he greeted everyone.

  Once we’d all said hello, he held up a small plastic evidence bag. “I’m wondering if you’ve ever seen this before,” he said to Chloe.

  She took the bag from him, studying its contents closely.

  “What is it?” I asked, unable to keep my curiosity in check.

  “A ring.” Chloe held the bag up to the light, and for the first time I noticed a small object in one bottom corner. “Gold, with what looks like a ruby. And an inscription. It’s hard to read but I think it says ‘always.’” She glanced at Kyle. “Is it a real ruby?”

  “We haven’t confirmed that yet.”

  She took another moment to study the ring before handing the bag back to the deputy. “I’ve never seen it before. Was it Demetra’s?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

  “But it was found with her remains?” I guessed.

  “It was.”

  “So she was wearing it when she died?” Chloe asked, sounding puzzled.

  “We’re not sure about that.”

  “I don’t know.…” Chloe still seemed perplexed.

  “What is it?” Kyle asked.

  “It’s a nice ring,” Chloe said. “If Demetra owned something like that, she would have flaunted it. Even if the ruby’s not real, she probably would have told everyone it was. And I definitely don’t remember her ever wearing a ring like that.”

  That probably left Kyle with more questions than answers, but he kept his expression neutral and didn’t let on to what he was thinking.

  “I appreciate you taking the time to have a look at it,” he said to Chloe before addressing the rest of us. “Sorry to interrupt your evening.”

  “No apologies necessary,” Elaine said, getting up from her chair. “How’s your mother doing these days?”

  “She’s doing well, thanks,” Kyle said as Elaine walked him to the front door.

  Their conversation faded away, and a moment later we heard the sound of the door closing.

  “It’s so strange,” Chloe said, still standing in the same spot when her mom returned to the room. “Demetra was such a show-off. She wouldn’t have kept quiet if that ring was hers. And the inscription makes me think it could be an engagement or wedding ring. She definitely wouldn’t have kept it to herself if someone had proposed to her.”

  “What if it happened right before her death?” I said.

  “You mean someone proposed to her and then killed her right after?” Brett asked, sounding doubtful.

  “That does seem unlikely,” I conceded. “Unless she turned him down and that threw him into a rage.”

  “You’re thinking of Tyrone,” Chloe said. “And, unfortunately, that could be possible. Demetra had already dumped him. If he proposed to her, she probably wouldn’t have left it at a simple no.”

  “You think she might have laughed in his face?” Elaine asked, sounding shocked.

  “That was her style, Mom. You remember what she was like.”

  “Yes, I do,” Elaine said sadly. She put a hand to her daughter’s back. “How about we focus on something more pleasant? Why don’t I show Marley some old photos?”

  Brett groaned. “Mom, please. You’ll bore Marley to the point of insanity.”

  “Oh, hush,” Elaine said, heading to a shelf lined with albums and large books.

  “I don’t mind,” I said to Brett. “I’d love to get a glimpse of your childhood.”

  We’d first met when I was spending the summer in Wildwood Cove at age fifteen, but his younger years were, for the most part, an unknown to me.

  “You say that now,” Brett said as he moved a chess piece on the game board, “but give it time and you’ll be begging for me to get you out of here.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Brett appealed to his sister. “Chloe, come on. You don’t want Mom embarrassing you either.”

  With a smug smile, Chloe returned to the couch, leaving room for her mom to sit between us. “I’m not embarrassed by Marley seeing childhood pictures of me. I’m not the one who ran around the house at age three wearing nothing but a Superman cape.”

  Brett thumped his forehead to the table, making the chess pieces shake.

  I laughed. “Don’t worry, Brett. I’m sure you were adorable.”

  He muttered something under his breath but went back to playing chess with his dad, studiously ignoring the rest of us.

  Sitting between me and Chloe, Elaine opened the photo album. It started with pictures from the day of Brett’s birth when he was a tiny red-faced bundle. A cranky one, judging by his expression in all the pictures.

  We went through the album page by page, all three of us laughing when we reached the pictures Chloe had mentioned. I saw Brett shake his head across the room, but he refused to look our way.

  “That’s the cutest bumblebee I’ve ever seen,” I said when we reached photos of Brett getting ready to head out trick-or-treating for the first time.

  Elaine turned another page.

  “And that might be the cutest photo of all time.” I pointed to a picture of a six-year-old Brett holding a newborn Chloe. His blond curls were longer than they were now, and fluffy. He had a giant smile on his face as he gazed adoringly down at the bundle in his arms.

  “He couldn’t help but be thrilled to have a baby sister like me,” Chloe said with a grin.

  Brett nearly choked. “At that point I didn’t know what I was in for.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “Please.”

  I laughed, knowing their banter was good natured.

  “Check,” Frank said from across the room.

  “Oh, man.” Brett stared at the board for a moment before making a move.

  Frank moved one of his pieces next. “Checkmate.”

  Brett sat back in defeat. “I was distracted.”

  “Sure, son,” his dad said with a smile.

  I knew Brett wasn’t really upset, and a second later he was grinning as he got up and clapped his dad on the shoulder. “Good game.”

  It was nearing nine o’clock, and I was usually early to bed and early to rise. Frank appeared to be fading, too, his face weary. We quickly wrapped up our visit and piled into Brett’s truck. After dropping Chloe off, we headed along Wildwood Road, toward home.

  “I do plan to get revenge, you know,” Brett said.

  “For the photos? Come on, it wasn’t that bad. You were such a cute kid. Not that I ever doubted that, considering how you turned out.”

  “I’m enjoying the flattery, but that doesn’t change my mind. I’m going to have a chat with your mom and ask her to bring some photo albums the next time she comes for a visit.”

  “You might want to rethink that plan,” I warned as he turned into o
ur driveway. “I’m an only child. My mom took lots of pictures of me when I was little. She’ll have you trapped for hours.”

  Brett parked the car in front of the house. “I doubt it’ll be that long.”

  I put a hand on his arm. “Trust me. Hours.”

  Even in the darkness, I didn’t miss the apprehension that flashed across his face.

  “Think about all that time wasted,” I said. “Hours that could be spent doing other things.”

  A grin appeared on his face. “Such as?”

  “I’ll leave that up to your imagination.”

  “Which happens to be running wild.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said, matching his grin.

  He took my hand. “How about we don’t waste this hour?”

  “You’re right. Why sit here in the truck when we could be going for a romantic walk on the beach?”

  “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

  “I know. But Bentley needs a walk.”

  “True.”

  “And this night has more than one hour.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  We both grinned as we got out of the truck.

  “And I suppose a walk won’t be so bad if I can steal a kiss or two,” Brett said when he met me around the front of the vehicle.

  “I’m sure Bentley will return them with great enthusiasm.”

  Brett took my hands and leaned in close so he could whisper in my ear. “Don’t tell Bentley, but I much prefer your kisses.”

  I went up on tiptoes and pressed my lips to his before saying, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Chapter 12

  I slept later than usual on Monday morning, getting up just in time to see Brett off as he left for work. He took Bentley with him, much to the dog’s excitement. Bentley loved to hang out with his favorite human, and most of Brett’s clients didn’t mind if he brought his canine companion along. He’d run the idea past Lonny and Hope, and they’d assured him that Bentley was more than welcome on their property.

  That left me and Flapjack at home. After eating breakfast, I wandered out onto the back porch with my cat in my arms. The morning breeze was cool but refreshing and filled with the smell of the sea.