Double Chocolate Cookie Murder

by Devon Delaney

  “Depends. Give it a try.”

  “How did you and Lonnie become friends after you wrote an article basically accusing his son of arson?” Sherry followed up her question with a glance in his eyes.

  His gaze shifted from Sherry to the back of Lonnie’s head in the row of seats in front of them. “Old age comes with a certain amount of acceptance. Every year since we’ve lived at the Village, we’ve celebrated his wedding anniversary together. No Ivy, no Rachel, no Crosby. Just him and me. It all came about when I found him sobbing one day and asked him what the matter was. He said the day was his wedding anniversary, the day he’d made the best and worst decision of his life.”

  Sherry lowered her voice and leaned into Cap’s ear. “Did either Ivy or Lonnie have a connection to Hawaii you’re aware of?”

  Cap’s head snapped in Sherry’s direction, almost colliding his nose with hers. “They went there on their honeymoon. Why are you asking? And please don’t ever ask Lonnie about that. He’s just beginning to return to some level of emotional normalcy.” His words were delivered with such force, Sherry recoiled.

  “Hawaiian honeymoon. I see. Makes sense, with his love of boating. Was Ivy a sailor?”

  Cap fiddled with a fingernail before returning his attention back to Sherry. “She was learning.”

  “That’s romantic, that Hawaii was their honeymoon spot.”

  “Let’s change the subject before Lonnie’s ears start to burn.” Cap glanced out the window, ending the conversation.

  Sunset Village came into view as the bus took the turn at the complex’s sign.

  “Thank you all for making this field trip a success. I hope we won’t need to put our newfound knowledge into use, saving a raptor’s life, but we certainly will be starting plants from seeds in our greenhouse next month. I hope you all were paying close attention to the process. And please, sign up for the trip to the Historical Society to learn more about the fascinating history of the Augustin Marina, which is marking a milestone this coming year. Thank you all.”

  The passengers spilled out onto the driveway and made their way into the lobby. Sherry found herself next to Rachel as they awaited further instruction.

  “That was very enjoyable,” Rachel said. “I didn’t get a chance to speak with you all morning. How nice of you to come. Outside help is always welcome.”

  Sherry noted the cautious tone of Rachel’s voice. She was aware Rachel had had many chances to strike up a conversation with her during the field trip yet had kept her attention solely on her father-in-law. Whenever Sherry opened her mouth to speak to her, Rachel turned away and busied herself with a pressing matter concerning Lonnie.

  “My pleasure. I came to Sunset Village this morning to meet with Cap Diminsky, and next thing I knew, I was swept onto the bus for a whirlwind trip to the Rescue Center.”

  “Seems as if you had a nice chance to meet with Cap, because you were seatmates. You know, I heard you talking about Lonnie, Ivy, and Hawaii. If I were you, I would take Cap’s advice and stay away from that subject.”

  “Cap and Lonnie seem to be in a good place. Considering their past history, that’s quite a feat.” Sherry tried her hardest to sound convincing when she herself could hardly believe the two could tolerate each other’s presence.

  “I want to tell you something before I leave.” Rachel’s tone was rigid. “When I spoke to you about being a suspect in my ex-husband’s death, I didn’t understand where you would take the mission of proving me innocent for the sake of Lonnie. I’m beginning to regret our conversation. If Lonnie suffers further in any way, I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “I think I’m making some progress. The Currier waters are muddier than meets the eye, though, and clearing them is taking some doing.”

  Rachel squared her body up to Sherry’s. She didn’t even blink. “I’m going to say something I hope you take to heart. I think you’re sticking your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong.” She paused and tightened her lips. “Do you understand me?”

  Sherry scanned the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lonnie and Cap approaching behind Rachel. “I’m sorry. What is it I’m supposed to understand?” Sherry enunciated each word so anyone within a few feet could hear her clearly.

  “I’ve changed my mind. Stay out of our business. Do I make myself clear?”

  Lonnie placed his hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming today, Sherry.” He steered Rachel toward the front entrance.

  Chapter 18

  Sherry located Cap exiting the restroom. She beelined over to him. “Glad we had a chance to talk today.”

  “Me, too. I hope you volunteer here more often.”

  “I was thinking, would you be interested in writing a follow-up article about the marina fire?”

  “Would a twenty-year gap between articles still qualify for a follow-up?” Cap smiled.

  “Sure. An article that could be included in the Historical Society’s exhibit? People would be very interested in learning the results of the fire investigation. I admit, I’ve tried to get some answers myself, but after such a gap in time, those closest to the event are hard to locate. And here you are, right in front of me. How can I pass up the opportunity of asking you?”

  “Might be nice to dip my toe back in the journalism pool. The only writing I’ve been doing lately has been obituaries. I’ve even written my own for someone to submit after I pass on. I want full control on what’s put out there about me.”

  “That’s a good idea. Speaking of obituaries, you said you wrote Ivy’s?”

  Cap nodded. His eyes shifted in the direction of Lonnie and Rachel. “That’s right. Lonnie said he didn’t think Crosby was up to the task.”

  “Lonnie must trust you. I mean you of all people might put something in the obit that could damage the family.”

  Cap shrugged his shoulders. “Never. I didn’t write those articles to damage anyone, by the way. I wrote what was news at the time. After all we’ve been through, I can say in all sincerity, Lonnie and I trust each other. As a matter of fact, you’re giving me an opportunity to share that fact when I write the article.”

  “Do you have any idea what may have happened to Lonnie’s son?”

  Cap turned again toward Lonnie. He held his gaze until Sherry repeated the question.

  “Cap? Do you have any idea?”

  “I wish I could be certain, but I’m not. I’ve learned my lesson to stick to the facts at hand. So, the answer is no.”

  “Hey, old man. Lunchtime.” Lonnie neared. “Sherry, are you sticking around? How much can you take of this place? Rachel’s gone. She knows when she’s had enough.”

  “No, I’m on my way out. Just saying goodbye to my new friend,” Sherry said.

  “I can’t understand your attraction to this guy. He may be a good writer, but that’s about all there is to him.” Lonnie shifted his attention to Cap. “I’ll save you a seat. No one else will.” Lonnie chuckled as he walked away.

  “That’s what I call tough love,” Cap said. “He’s a lonely character who likes to portray a crusty outer shell. Defense mechanism, I’d say.”

  “Would you mind emailing your article to me? Within the next week? I’ll run it by Ruth Gadabee, who’s on the Historical Society’s exhibit board. I know she’ll be thrilled with your additional contribution.”

  Sherry fished in her purse and brought out a small card. “Here’s my business card. It’s actually less of a business card than it is a bookmark. Comes in handy, because it has my email address on it.”

  Cap tucked the card in his pants pocket. “Thanks. I’ll get right on it. Say hi to Ruth for me. She was nice enough to present me with a lifetime achievement award I didn’t deserve. And Sherry . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “I think you’re trying to help, but you’re treading on thin ice. Friendly warning, because I like you, be careful.” Cap turned and ambled down the hall.

  Sherry took one last look around the lobby. Only the woman
with the cane remained, and she was hobbling back to her seat at the reception desk. Head full of vague suggestions of what to beware of, Sherry left the facility. On her way to her car, she created mental bullet points for what she’d learned from Cap. When she got home, she’d sort out the details and assign importance to what was fact and discard what was opinion. At the moment, her list of facts seemed sparse in comparison to the opinions.

  Deep in thought, Sherry was slow to realize something was different about her car, but when she did, she uttered a curse word she didn’t know was so close to the tip of her tongue. She stared at her car in hopes she wasn’t seeing what she thought she was. Her two front tires were flat.

  I think I would have noticed if I had run over an object big enough to pop two tires. This reeks of the same bad odor of the words on the note Effi and Sal received—Mind Your Own Business Or Else. Why does someone always have to pick on my poor old car? Wasn’t too long ago I paid to have a headlight-to-taillight scratch repaired, thanks to someone warning me to stay out of a murder investigation.

  “Looks like you could use a hand, young lady.”

  Sherry, in the midst of searching her purse for her phone, lifted her eyes in the direction of the voice. When she saw the familiar face, Sherry sighed with relief. “Hi, Vitis. Are you offering?”

  “Getting two flat tires at the same time is a hard trick to pull off. How did you manage it?” Vitis shifted a brown paper bag from one hand to the other.

  “I don’t think it was my fault.” Sherry eyed what she suspected was his lunch sack. “You’re on your way to eat. I can call my father or sister. I don’t want to inconvenience you. I should’ve joined a roadside assistance service. You never know you need them until you do.”

  “Bringing doughnuts to my dad.” Vitis walked around the front of Sherry’s car. “I don’t see any other damage, but these tires are as flat as my singing voice.” He looked back over his shoulder at the Sunset Village building. “Do you have a relative living here?”

  “No, at least not yet. I came by to talk to a resident and suddenly found myself joining a field trip. By the way, on our way to the nature and Rescue Center next to the marina this morning, we spotted you outside the dockmaster shed. That led to a discussion of the history of the Augustin Marina, which was quite fascinating.”

  “Hope I wasn’t the highlight of the trip. That would make for a very disappointing outing. Let me run back to my truck and grab my tools. We can change one tire and put on your spare. I have a can of Inflate A Flat, sealant plus inflator, for the other that could get you as far as the overpriced tire store, where you’ll be at the mercy of whatever they’re able to sell you. Beggars can’t be choosers in this case.”

  “Uh. I find myself in this situation a bit too often. Thank you.” Sherry watched Vitis traverse the parking lot until he let himself into a vintage pickup truck.

  The truck chugged to life and cruised over to the empty parking space next to Sherry’s injured car. “Hate to have you give up such a coveted parking spot,” Sherry said when Vitis exited the truck.

  “No worries. I have a handicap badge I hang on the mirror when I come. My dad’s here. I bring him his favorite doughnuts once a week. He’s called this place home since he was eighty-one. He’ll be eighty-five next year. I try to get over here a couple of times a week, and boat traffic is certainly slow this time of year, so I’m able to sneak in a visit before my lunch. He loves to hear about the birds and animals I saw at the Rescue Center, which is where I eat my lunch.” Vitis rolled up his sleeves and placed the tire jack under the car’s front end. “Shouldn’t take too long.”

  While Vitis was repairing the tire damage, Sherry texted Marla, then Don, to say she’d be late for the farewell lunch. Marla texted back that she was going to be late because she was running some errands with Amber while Erno manned the store. Don texted to say he’d see her soon.

  When the miniature spare tire was secured, Vitis lowered the car’s front end and relocated the jack to the other side. Sherry stepped closer to Vitis as he squatted down to check the car’s underside.

  “Lonnie and Rachel Currier were on the field trip today.”

  “That’s nice. I run into Lonnie a few times a month on my visits. He’s always quick to ask me how everything’s going. This truck was courtesy of him. He sold it to me when I took over his job. I admired it one day when he was showing me the ropes, and he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  “I was curious how long you’ve known Rachel Currier. I’ve gotten acquainted with her recently, but I’m finding her quite guarded beyond a certain level of familiarity.”

  Vitis raised himself up and traced his finger across the exposed tire tread. “Here’s the puncture. Neat, clean cut. Should hold the air and take the sealant well. Inflate A Flat is magic in a can.” He stood and located the can of tire sealant next to his tools. “Rachel Currier has taken sailing lessons at the marina for years. Her mother-in-law raced sailboats for the Augustin Yacht Club until her husband left his position as dockmaster, so, before my time. Rachel began sailing after she married Crosby, despite the fact he had no ambition for spending any time on the water. I never saw them sail together. I barely saw him, come to think of it—only her. She had plenty of company other than him. Especially her chef friend.”

  Vitis settled back down beside the tire. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but she heard the hiss of the canned repair product. He stood and crossed in front of Sherry’s car.

  “This was under your car.” Vitis handed Sherry a receipt from Pinch and Dash. “Love that place.”

  “Thanks. We got cookies from there yesterday. Hopefully, it says we don’t owe anything. They were supposed to be on the house.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Why do you have all this equipment?” Sherry asked.

  “Look at my truck. If I didn’t fix it myself, I’d have a devil of a time paying the repair bills. Tough enough as it is. I want to keep the old girl going for another ten years.”

  “Vitis, let me pay you for your time. This repair would have cost a fortune if I hired a tow truck.” Sherry handed Vitis two twenty-dollar bills. “Buy your father a nice dinner, or more doughnuts.”

  “Thank you, Sherry. You’re very kind,” Vitis said in a soft voice. The lines around his eyes deepened as he smiled. His scruffy facial hair was flecked with gray, yet his energy was youthful as he kept the task moving along at a fast pace. “He’ll like that. You should be fine to drive home or to the tire store. I wouldn’t go much farther than that. And maybe find out who’s trying to send you a message in such a destructive way. Hope to see you under more pleasant circumstances next time.”

  “Thank you again,” Sherry called after him. “I’m pretty sure I know who sent me this message. If I could send her the bill, I would.”

  “Her?” Vitis asked.

  “I mean him or her.”

  “Be careful, then. It appears someone’s not happy with you.”

  “Will do, and thanks again.”

  Vitis sauntered toward Sunset Village.

  * * *

  “If you can meet me at the Augustin Garage and Tire Center, I’ll drop my car off. I called ahead and they said it would be done in an hour. Two new tires plus labor I wasn’t budgeting for. It’s sure to be a wallop of an expense, and right before the holidays.” Sherry closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. “I’m getting a headache.”

  Sherry’s drive to the tire store was harrowing. Every bump and pothole in the road begged a mental check of how the car was riding and an assessment as to whether one of the two front tires had survived the jarring. When she arrived, her palms were damp and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  When she spoke to the tire center manager, she pointed out that she had no idea how the tires had been compromised. “The second tire is in the back seat. I’m very interested to learn what you think punctured both tires.”

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s not always po
ssible, but we’ll do our best. Give us an hour and your car will be good as can be. Will you be waiting?”

  “No, I’m going to get some lunch. I have a ride. I’ll be back in an hour, give or take a few minutes. Thank you.”

  Sherry left the tire store and located Erno’s car. Sherry squeezed into the back seat of the subcompact station wagon. She was forced to contort her legs at an angle to get comfortable in the limited space available. “It’s been a long time since I’ve sat in this back seat, Dad. I must have grown taller in the ten years you’ve had this car.”

  “Or you’re not as flexible as you were ten years ago,” Marla said.

  “No doubt,” Sherry replied. “Easy for you to say from your luxurious perch in the front seat.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault your car keeps getting picked on,” Erno said with an air of defensiveness.

  Marla cleared her throat. “It’s kind of her fault. She was on the trail of a murderer last time her car was purposely scratched from end to end, and there’s a good chance the flat tires today come from someone who doesn’t appreciate her sniffing around their business.”

  “In that case,” Erno said as he waited for a red light to turn green, “I retract my statement. The fault may lie with you.”

  “I have to admit I have a growing interest in who killed Crosby, but I certainly wasn’t counting on being targeted by a lunatic. I’m ninety-nine percent positive Rachel Currier’s behind my tire slashing,” Sherry stated with no uncertainty.

  “If that’s the case, why didn’t you call the police?” Marla asked.

  “I took pictures of the damaged tires. I’m considering my next step. My insurance deductible doesn’t cover the cost of new tires. When I called ahead, the man at the tire store said I have some time to think about filing a report.”

  “You just don’t want Detective Bease on your back, do you? You’ll get that with a police report,” Marla said. “If he gets wind of this incident, you’ll have some explaining to do.”

  “That may be part of it. I need to summon the courage to listen to an earful of Ray’s good advice.”