‘I doubt Santa’s elves have a couple of bottles of dry Long Island rosé on hand to help them along.’ Mary Jo raised her glass. ‘We’ve finished two types of sandwiches and just need your help frying chicken for the third.’
Jules retrieved a glass from the pantry and placed it in Tish’s hand while he poured the beautiful pink liquid. ‘All this food prep – and MJ and I have discovered that we might be the greatest detectives since Holmes and Watson, Poirot and Hastings, Wolfe and Goodwin, and Nora and Nora.’
‘Um, I think that’s Nick and Nora,’ Tish corrected.
‘You have your favorite mysteries, I have mine,’ Jules explained before waltzing back to the refrigerator.
‘Morrissey and White Zinfandel? You must have made a very big break on the case for you to party like it’s 1993,’ she teased.
‘It’s not White Zinfandel,’ Jules faux-seethed.
‘1993?’ Mary Jo objected. ‘OK, just for that, we’re not telling you a thing until you spill all the details of your date.’
‘Oh, come on! That’s not fair,’ Tish complained.
‘It’s more than fair,’ Mary Jo interjected. ‘You texted Jules hours ago saying you were on a date, and we haven’t heard a peep from you since.’
‘Um, because it was a date,’ Tish was confused. ‘You didn’t actually expect me to text a play-by-play, did you?’
‘No, but you could have left your phone on for a few minutes, just so we could overhear,’ Jules suggested while Mary Jo nodded in agreement.
Tish pulled a face and said nothing.
‘No? OK, then, why don’t you just tell us?’
As she prepped the chicken, buttermilk batter, and oil for the fryer, Tish recounted her evening with Schuyler Thompson.
‘Perfect? He said you were perfect?’ Mary Jo asked, her hands clutched together as if praying.
Tish’s eyes welled with tears and she nodded her head.
‘You are perfect.’ Mary Jo embraced her dear friend. ‘It’s about time someone said that. I’m so happy for you.’
‘I am too.’ Jules joined in on the hug. ‘I hope you gave him a big wet sloppy kiss for it.’
‘Ewww,’ Mary Jo and Tish squealed as the embrace between friends broke apart. ‘Jules!’
‘What?’ Jules placed his hands on his hips. ‘I’m just saying it might have been nice to reward that sweet man for his good behavior.’
‘I kissed him on the cheek and hugged him before saying goodnight,’ Tish explained.
‘Boring,’ Jules sang.
‘And I agreed to go with him to the farmers’ market in Fredericksburg,’ she continued.
‘Oh, that should be great fun for you,’ Mary Jo remarked.
‘Yeah, I said I’d cook dinner with the produce we purchase there. I’m really looking forward to it.’
‘And where’s your third date going to be? Winn-Dixie? Or maybe you’ll go the whole hog and drive to see the Super Kroger up north?’ Jules teased. ‘I hear you can get a gasoline discount if you spend over a hundred dollars.’
‘Jules,’ Mary Jo reprimanded.
‘Sorry. I’m happy for you, Tish, really. But I’m just wondering how we got to the age where a glorified grocery run can be considered a first date. Where’s the romance? Where are the fireworks?’
‘I’m fine without fireworks,’ Tish replied. ‘Sweet, slow, and easy-going suits me to a tee.’
‘I’m glad, honey.’ Jules embraced her tightly. ‘You deserve someone who treasures you. And if a farmers’ market is your idea of relationship nirvana, then go for it. Oh, and buy me some fresh cage-free eggs while you’re there, will you?’
Tish rolled her eyes and nodded as Jules pulled away and folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’m just sayin’ that when I meet that special someone, you can bet it’s going to be fireworks, magic, glitter, and wining and dining.’
‘Was there ever a doubt?’ Tish teased.
‘Seriously,’ Mary Jo commiserated. ‘You probably travel with a mirrored disco ball in your trunk.’
‘Trunk? No, it’s too big for the Mini Cooper. I need to keep my emergency rain and snow gear in there, so I moved it to the back of my closet,’ Jules stated matter-of-factly.
‘So, Tommy and Tuppence’ – Tish used Jules’s bizarre confession as an opportunity to move the topic of conversation away from her love life – ‘why don’t you tell me about your crime-fighting escapades this evening?’
‘Tommy and Tuppence?’
‘Beresford. From the Partners in Crime books.’ As both Jules and Mary Jo gaped at her with nary a glimmer of comprehension in their eyes, Tish added, in exasperation, ‘By Agatha Christie? You two really need to turn off the TV and read more.’
‘I do read,’ Mary Jo maintained.
‘I think she means books. Not Teen Vogue,’ Jules advised his friend, sotto voce.
Mary Jo simply shrugged and launched into the tale of her and Jules’s investigative adventure before playing Tish the video of Jules questioning the mayor and the subsequent rendezvous near the baseball field.
‘So Mayor Whitley and Cordelia Ballantyne,’ Tish stated in wonderment when the video clips had finished.
‘You seem surprised,’ Jules noted.
‘I am. This morning at Wisteria Knolls, Cordelia seemed so …’ She struggled to find the right words. ‘She seemed so desperate to keep her family together. To keep John Ballantyne at home with her and their daughter. She even wanted to bring Charlotte home, so they could start over together, but John wouldn’t allow it.’
‘If John’s been too busy for Cordelia because of his affair with Roberta Dutton, it wouldn’t be unusual for Cordelia to find comfort elsewhere,’ Mary Jo opined.
Tish and Jules eyed their friend worriedly. ‘Not that I’d do it, of course,’ Mary Jo defended. ‘I realize Glen isn’t always home and that he should be doing more to help around the house, but he’s working, not checking into cheap motels with librarians. Besides, I have my kids. Poor Cordelia doesn’t even have her daughter around for company or solace or just to mother and shower with affection. I’m sorry, but the love for your children keeps you going during tough times. If Charlotte were here in Hobson Glen, I doubt Cordelia would have been catting around with Mayor Whitley.’
Tish nodded. ‘Well, now we know why the mayor didn’t fire Binnie Broderick.’
‘You really think Binnie found out about the mayor’s fling with her daughter?’ Jules asked.
‘I do.’
‘And what about Cordelia? If Binnie was the holy roller everyone claims, she couldn’t have been very pleased with her daughter’s behavior either.’
‘The night of the fundraiser,’ Tish recalled, ‘Binnie made a crack about Cordelia being “easy.” It didn’t make sense to me at the time, but now it does.’
Tish thought about the modifications to Binnie’s will. Was Cordelia and Whitley’s affair the event that prompted the changes? And if so, why would John Ballantyne be left out in the cold? Unless, of course, Binnie had learned of his affair as well. The whole scenario was rife with ‘ifs’ and no concrete answers.
‘Wait a minute,’ Mary Jo begged excitedly, ‘what if Cordelia and the mayor planned to bump off Binnie Broderick and then run away with the inheritance?’
Tish narrowed her eyes. Cordelia might not have known about her mother’s change of will, but there was something else about Mary Jo’s hypothesis that seemed rather unlikely. ‘Then why would Whitley break up with her now? It was nearly pay day. He only had to hold out a short while longer.’
‘Mmm.’ Mary Jo frowned. ‘You’re right. It doesn’t make sense, does it?’
‘The mayor said he wanted to take a break, that’s all. Maybe he wanted to slow things down until the day they actually could be together full-time,’ Jules offered. ‘There is a murder investigation going on, you know.’
Mary Jo and Tish both gave Jules a look.
‘What?’ he questioned.
‘I sometimes forget y
ou’re a man and then you pass a comment like that and it all comes roaring back to me,’ Mary Jo quipped.
‘When a guy says he wants to take a break, Jules, it typically means break as in “break up.” It’s not like a coffee break where you return to work once you feel refreshed,’ Tish explained.
‘Really? Wow, that stinks,’ Jules reacted. ‘Well, there goes that theory, then. Although it wasn’t exactly solid anyway, was it? It leaves absolutely no explanation for Doctor Livermore’s murder.’
‘No, it doesn’t.’ Tish sighed and began frying the chicken breast cutlets. The sandwiches, at least, were something she could control.
‘Well, I’m sure we’ll get it figured out, but I’d best be on my way. I’m on the early show tomorrow.’
‘Oh, is there a storm on the way?’
‘No. Gus, the usual morning weather guy, is still recuperating from his brother’s wedding weekend out in Tahoe. I told him I’d take over. Putting his green face in front of a green screen would make all of Richmond think they’re getting their weather from a headless dude in a suit.’
‘A headless weatherman would certainly help explain the inaccuracy of the Channel Ten forecast.’ Tish laughed and dropped a heavily battered chicken breast into the fryer.
‘You’re not going to try to drive home, are you?’ Mary Jo reproached. ‘You’ve had a few glasses of rosé.’
‘Of course not, Mom,’ Jules teased. ‘I’ve already texted a cab.’
‘Texted?’
‘Yeah, the new cab service in town has a hunky driver who works on Sundays. I’m far too civilized to hit on him, but I can at least have some fun watching him in the rear-view mirror. Mind if I leave my car here overnight, Tish? I’ll catch a bus after my shift and pick up the sandwiches.’
‘Of course not.’ Tish slipped another piece of chicken into the fryer.
‘Instead of taking the bus, how about I stop by the station with the sandwiches and we sell them together?’ Mary Jo offered.
‘That would be great.’ Jules was appreciative. ‘But I don’t want to take you out of your way.’
‘You wouldn’t be. I was planning on staying here for the night and hotfooting it over to you. That is, if Tish doesn’t mind some company.’
‘You and Jules are always welcome here,’ Tish affirmed.
‘At least until a certain Mr Thompson decides to stay over,’ Jules announced with a wink before bidding the ladies adieu.
Tish mock-threatened him with a pair of metal tongs as he exited through the screen door of the café, before turning her attention to Mary Jo. ‘You know I love having you here and I enjoy a good girls’ pajama party every now and then, but is everything OK at home?’
‘Yeah.’ Mary Jo sighed. ‘Glen and I had a fight last night. He was miffed about the fact I’m rarely home. I told him he’s the one who’s never home. It just happens that whenever he is home, I’m out hauling the kids everywhere.’
‘But he’s OK with you being here tonight?’ Tish questioned.
‘Yeah, I guess my words must have resonated somehow. He called in a personal day for tomorrow and said he’d take care of the kids tonight and in the morning, while I went out and took care of “me.”’
‘Cool. Then why don’t you look happy?’
‘I am. I’m enjoying my wine and it’s been ages since you and I have watched a good chick flick together, but, well, when Glen gets the kids he’s the hero. He takes them out for fast food and a movie and then treats them to pancakes for breakfast before taking them to work. I get the mom-jeans jokes, the skirt-too-short arguments, the loud, angry music, and complaints about there not being enough Doritos in the house. After tonight, Glen will say, “They’re great kids, I don’t know why you complain.” And they are great kids, but he doesn’t have to parent them on a daily basis.’
Tish took a moment from her frying to offer her friend a hug and top her glass with wine.
‘Thanks, honey. You always seem to know the right thing to do.’ Mary Jo smiled. ‘Oh, and on top of my argument with Glen, there’s Kayla.’
‘Is she OK?’ Tish returned to the task of cooking chicken.
‘Yeah, just your typical moody, snotty fifteen-year-old girl. Whenever I go off to do something that doesn’t involve her or the family, she gets upset that I left her with the boys. Even though those boys are her father and brother, and even though I’m sure she has a great time with them.’
‘She’ll grow out of it, I’m sure. Fifteen is an ugly age all round. I remember my mother and I butted heads quite often, but then the rest of the time we got on like a house on fire. Just like you and Kayla, we were too much alike. It’s that way with mothers and daughters,’ Tish advised.
‘Yeah, mothers and daughters.’ Mary Jo sighed.
A rap came at the front screen door of the café. ‘Who’s that?’ Tish pondered aloud.
‘Probably Jules wanting a glass for the road now that he’s realized he isn’t driving.’ Mary Jo giggled.
Tish laughed along, but she didn’t anticipate seeing Jules’s face at the door. He might enjoy a night of revelry with friends, but Jules was a consummate, and sober, professional when a studio call beckoned. Still, despite preparing herself for any number of local visitors, Tish was completely and utterly flabbergasted to see the face of Daryl Dufour peering through the door at her.
Tish opened the main door to the café but remained behind the screen, with her hand on the latch. ‘Yes?’
Dufour’s unremarkable face was red and clammy. ‘I’m so sorry to trouble you at this hour on a Sunday, Miss Tarragon.’
At the sound of Dufour’s voice, Mary Jo moved from the kitchen to a position close behind Tish in a display of girl-power solidarity meant to deter the possibility of any bad behavior on the part of the librarian.
‘Evening.’ Dufour acknowledged Mary Jo with a nod of the head. ‘Anyway, I would have called, but your café isn’t in any directory I could find.’
‘That’s fine, Mr Dufour. How can I help you?’
‘I was in the bar at the Hobson Grille and I couldn’t help but notice you in the dining room, having supper with Sheriff Reade.’
Two hours had passed since Tish had spoken with Sheriff Reade. It was clear from both Dufour’s speech and somewhat flustered appearance that he had only just left the bar of which he spoke. ‘I was in the dining room, yes, but I was having dinner with Schuyler Thompson. Sheriff Reade only stopped by for a brief chat,’ Tish clarified.
‘During that brief chat, you didn’t happen to mention our conversation at the library, did you?’ Dufour asked nervously.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Tish asked. She would require far more information from Mr Dufour before she would make any attempt at an answer.
‘Yesterday at the library – goodness, it seems like ages ago, doesn’t it? – I said some things I probably shouldn’t have.’
‘Such as?’ Tish angled.
‘It doesn’t matter what. I just don’t want what I said getting back to anyone. My social media accounts have already been hacked once this year.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, but I fail to see how that has anything to do with me.’
‘I was just wondering if you might have let something slip to the sheriff. Something that might have cast suspicion in my or some other innocent person’s direction?’ Dufour remained as vague as ever.
Tish egged him on. ‘I still don’t understand.’
‘You see, when confronted with baked goods, I sometimes get to rambling. That was the situation when you brought the cakes to the library. Nothing I said yesterday afternoon should be taken seriously. It was all stream-of-consciousness.’
Tish nodded. ‘You needn’t worry about me, Mr Dufour. Your name was never mentioned during my conversation with Sheriff Reade. I assumed that if you had information about Binnie Broderick’s murder, you’d have told the police directly.’
‘Y–yes, I would have. I … I met with them this morning.’
�
�Ah, very good, then. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Miss Tarragon.’ Dufour gave Mary Jo another nod of the head in farewell. ‘Goodnight. Sorry for bothering y’all.’
‘Not a problem,’ Tish excused as she checked the lock on the screen door and bolted the main.
‘What was that all about?’ Mary Jo asked.
Tish shrugged. ‘Don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr Dufour stops by again tomorrow to apologize for stopping by tonight.’
‘He was awfully creepy.’ Despite the warm weather and the heat given off by the deep fryer, Mary Jo shivered.
‘And more than a little buzzed,’ Tish added.
‘Mmm, what did he want you to keep from the police?’
‘Could be one of three things. First, he may be fearful that I told the sheriff just how much he despised Binnie for destroying books and making him a glorified clerk, that he holds a certain affection for Celestine Rufus, and that he believes Binnie’s murderer is a worthy recipient of a Governor’s award.’
‘Makes him a pretty strong suspect. And, heaven knows, he’s certainly creepy enough,’ Mary Jo noted.
‘Second, he’s afraid I told the sheriff about his accusations against Roberta Dutton. That I mentioned how Daryl saw her slip the note into John Ballantyne’s pocket the night of the fundraiser and how he suspected that she’s capable of murder.’
‘Jules has proven Roberta and Ballantyne have been having an affair. Plus, she sounds like the type to hack Daryl Dufour’s social media accounts in revenge.’
‘Very much the type.’ Tish nodded. ‘Especially if Daryl threatened to excel at work where she didn’t.’
‘You think she was the hacker the first time around?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised. And then there’s a third possibility behind Dufour’s visit. He’s worried his comments about Celestine being devastated by Cynthia Thompson’s death might have put her in the hot seat. Remember, they both met with the sheriff today.’
‘Do you think she’s the innocent party he mentioned?’
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