Amanda bristled at his words. “I’m not forgetting anything, and I’d consider poisoning someone a definite form of violence, wouldn’t you?” She took a deep breath and continued. “Are you trying to say that Meg is a suspect? Or someone else?”
“Look, I like Meg, I really do, but she’s definitely one of the people who had a motive to kill him.”
Amanda grabbed the cream and strode to the refrigerator, glad to have an excuse to gather her thoughts for a moment. She finally turned toward James, her face serious. “I already asked her.”
“You already asked her what?”
“If she killed him.”
There was a space of one heartbeat, then two, and James finally spoke.
“What did she say?”
“She told me she didn’t kill Anderson Bowles and I believe her. She’s not the type, James. I know it.”
The expression in the detective’s eyes was one of regret. “I’m sorry, Amanda, but I’ve got to have more than that to go on before I can scratch her off the short list.”
“Now you’re talking like a detective, not like a friend who knows her. Come on, James! Can you actually picture that sweet girl doing something as extreme as killing a man?”
“I’ve seen innocent-looking people do worse.”
“Did you know she was the first friend I ever made in Ravenwood Cove? She’s stood by me in thick and thin, James, and I’m trying to do the same for her.”
“I appreciate that, but it doesn’t carry much weight in a murder investigation.”
“So you’re not going to believe me?”
He sighed. “I believe that you think she’s innocent, and that you believe her. Amanda, that’s not enough for me to go on.”
Amanda could feel her face flush in frustration and anger.
“So she’s still on your list.” It was a statement, not a question.
James nodded. Seeing how upset Amanda obviously was, he stood and carried his coffee mug to the sink, rinsed it out, and set it on the counter.
“I think I’ll let myself out.”
“That’s probably best.” She watched from the kitchen as he retrieved his coat and opened the front door.
“If you need anything let me know, Amanda. I’m still here for you.”
And with a soft click of the front door, he was gone.
Chapter 15
For the hundredth time in about a day, Amanda marveled at the efficiency and cheerful nature of her first employee, and thanked her lucky stars that she’d had the good sense to hire her.
Jennifer had spent a busy morning setting out the morning buffet and then effortlessly greeting and helping every guest who came downstairs for their homemade breakfast. Whether she was making sure everyone’s coffee cups were filled or telling knock-knock jokes to the children, she seemed to be completely at ease. Her soft voice and shy smile made even the guests who hated mornings perk up, as if her cheerful demeanor was easing them into their day. A yellow apron tied around her waist, she moved from the refrigerator to the sink to the kitchen island with natural grace, and Amanda knew everything was under control so she headed outside to do the morning chores.
It took almost an hour to do a bit of garden maintenance and to make sure the chickens were fed and watered. Sometimes, she liked just puttering around the huge yard, even if it was raining.
It gave her some time to think. Sometimes, she got the impression that Jennifer knew more about what was going on than she had told anyone. Amanda would see sort of a haunted look in her eyes as she was washing the dishes or vacuuming stairs, when she thought Amanda wasn’t looking. Amanda had been putting off talking with her about it, but today most of the guests were checking out and the couple that wasn’t had told her they were heading to a local cheese-making factory for the day, so she screwed her courage to the sticking place and decided that today was the day.
She found Jennifer upstairs, whistling wordlessly and putting new, feather-filled duvets on the freshly-made beds. With the weather turning chilly it was time to put another layer of fluffy warmth on the beds for their guests.
Amanda hesitated in the doorway. She’d thought over what to say to Jennifer but now that she was actually going to bring up such a painful subject, she wasn’t exactly sure how to start the conversation.
“Jennifer? Can I have a word with you?”
Her employee spun around, a trace of fear on her face. “Um, sure, Amanda. What can I do for you?”
“Don’t worry; it isn’t anything bad. I just wanted to talk to you about what happened at your house and see if we can figure out what Loomis was looking for.” She sat down on the bedside chair next to the full laundry basket and started folding bath towels while she talked. “I’m not the cops, Jennifer. You can trust me.” She kept her eyes carefully on what she was doing, not wanting to see Jennifer’s panicked expression. “I know you loved your father, even if you didn’t like what he had done. I mean, what he’d done for a profession. I’m just wondering if you know more than you are telling anyone.” She plopped the folded towel on the nightstand and picked up another one from the basket. When she finally looked up she was surprised to see the hard anger in her friend’s eyes.
“I can trust you? You seem to hang out with the cops a lot lately.”
Amanda knew immediately she was talking about James, and bristled a bit at the implication. “Just because I talk with them doesn’t mean that I have to tell them everything I know.” She set the towel down and stood up, preferring to be on her feet while talking. “I’m on your side, Jennifer. I’m trying to figure out this whole mystery just like you are and trying to figure out what’s really going on in this town. We still don’t know who killed Anderson Bowles and with everything that we know about Loomis I think it’s time you set your cards on the table.” She locked eyes with Jennifer, hoping that the strength in her voice conveyed the need for Jennifer to come clean.
There was a pause while her normally-meek employee considered what Amanda had said, and then Jennifer finally asked, “Okay, what do you want to know?”
“What was Loomis looking for at your house?”
Jennifer gave a final flick of the duvet to float it over the bed and then smoothed it into place.
“My father kept a copy of all the financial records for the people he worked for.”
Amanda was shocked. “You mean all the records? The ones he was in hiding about? I thought all the guys he worked with wound up in jail.”
“Not all of them, and that was the reason that he was in hiding for years. Those financial records, well, a full file was never actually given to the police. He just gave them what he had to and kept some information back in case he needed a bargaining chip later. When he returned to Ravenwood Cove, he told me that he had sent the guys who never went to prison a message, that he still had information that could put them away but that he needed to be left alone in his last few months. He told them that the information would die with him.” Jennifer tried to control the sudden quivering of her voice. “But that was a lie. He told me the location of the evidence as he was dying. The problem is, when I went to go get the records they weren’t where he told me they would be.”
“Where did he say he’d hidden them?”
Jennifer choked back her emotion, trying to calm her voice. “With the car. In the car.”
“And they weren’t there?”
Jennifer shook her head slowly. “I looked everywhere. I ripped apart everything I could, even opening up the door panels and checking under the spare tire. I didn’t find a single scrap of paper or evidence that he’d left, and I even went through every inch of the garage.”
“Why?”
“Well, he said ‘with the car’, so I thought maybe that meant where the car would be parked, but I still didn’t find anything.”
Amanda’s heart sank. “They think you know where your father stashed the evidence, or they think you already have it.” She turned toward her pale friend. “Jennifer, you’re
in terrible danger! You need to go talk to the cops right now to tell them what you know. These guys aren’t the type that just stop coming after someone, are they?” Jennifer shook her head, her eyes wide, and Amanda grabbed Jennifer’s arms.
“You need to get this out in the open. I’m going to call James right now and you need to tell him everything, okay?”
Jennifer nodded just once, her eyes still locked on Amanda. “But even if I tell the cops, what am I supposed to do about the evidence? I can’t find it, and that’s what the bad guys want.”
Amanda was already dialing her phone. “I don’t know, Jennifer, but making sure you get some protection seems like a step in the right direction.”
Chapter 16
Amanda loved her old red bike, and she loved coasting down into town from Ravenwood Inn on a bright autumn morning. Living on top of the bluff gave the Inn a great view of the beach but also made a perfect place to enjoy the autumn sun and orange and gold foliage as she rolled downhill, on her way to do some errands.
When she’d first started riding her bike in Ravenwood Cove, it had been hard to pedal back up the long hill on her way home, but the more often Amanda rode her bike the easier it had become, and on dry days like today she was happy to fill the wicker basket on the front of the bike with whatever small things she purchased from the local stores. Today she was going to swing by Kazoodles toy store, hoping to find a new jigsaw puzzle she could put out on the library table in the main parlor, where her guests could putter over finding the perfect piece. She’d discovered that something as simple as an old-fashioned puzzle was a great ice-breaker and gave her guests a chance to chat a bit over a mutual activity.
Jennifer had already been hard at work for a couple of hours before Amanda left. It felt wonderful to have someone so capable and eager to work, and Amanda has been thrilled to discover that under Jennifer’s quiet demeanor was a personality that truly enjoyed making things clean and pretty for the families. While Amanda had a few days to recuperate from being attacked, Jennifer had worked long hours to make sure that everything was up to snuff at the Ravenwood, and when Amanda had finally come home from the hospital, escorted by a worry-faced James, she’d been stunned to see how tidy the kitchen was, and how natural and warm Jennifer was when talking to the guests.
Having an employee to help had actually given her enough time to read the latest edition of the Ravenwood Tide newspaper. It was such a simple joy to sit in a warm jacket on the huge covered porch and go over the news of the day. Whether it was a front page article about the current murder investigation or the weekly calendar listing all the club meetings and after-school activities, she loved reading every word.
Jennifer had even made sure to hand Amanda a thermal cup full of hot coffee as she left the house. Best thing I ever did was hire her, Amanda thought, as she locked up her bike to a tree on Main Street, and walked into the two-story wonderland of Kazoodles toy store.
Once she had her new puzzle bought and had said goodbye to Grace TwoHorses, promising to come back in when the handmade kaleidoscopes arrived, Amanda decided to take advantage of the rare sunshine to swing down the lane toward the main residential area. It was the end of the season, and maybe Owen Winters would have some extra pears to sell. Amanda’s orchard was full of apple trees, but Owen was known to grow the most luscious pears, and had set up a wooden coffin-sized box with shelves in front of the gate to his house, stocking it with bags of whatever fruit he had available and putting out a lockbox for people to tuck their cash into. There were a lot of people in Ravenwood Cove who lived hand to mouth, and Owen Winters was one of them, but there were also plenty of townsfolk who were happy to trade their money for the fruit from Owen’s neatly-pruned orchard.
Swinging down the lane, Amanda was surprised to see Mrs. Bitterman talking intently with Truman, her hand gripping his tattooed arm as he leaned forward to hear every word the adamant lady was telling him. He was nodding his head in agreement, his usually happy face very serious as he listened. Just as Amanda stopped by Owen Winter’s small fruit stand, she saw Mrs. Bitterman reach up and hug Truman, almost fiercely clutching him to herself as he leaned over and hugged her back for several long moments. Then he sighed and let go, taking a step back but leaning down to say something quietly to her before he pedaled away, his dog tucked into the basket. Mrs. Bitterman saw Amanda standing with her bike, but just turned and walked back to her garden, her lined face a mask of reflection.
By the time he pedaled past Amanda, Truman seemed to have his emotions under control. He waved in happy greeting as he biked by her and she waved back, even as she was puzzling over what she’d just seen. Intrigued, Amanda stopped her bicycle outside Mrs. Bitterman’s gate, catching the attention of the older lady, her garden gloves still on her hands.
“Good morning, Mrs. Bitterman. I didn’t know you knew Truman so well. Did you know him before he moved to Ravenwood Cove?”
Mrs. Bitterman’s eyes cut sideways and she stumbled a bit over her words. “Oh, he’s just a friend who someone told me about awhile back.” Her voice grew stronger. “A couple of years ago he actually came and visited with us over Thanksgiving break. He’s a lovely young man,” she stated firmly, and without another word she turned and walked quickly up the walkway, ignoring Amanda completely.
That was completely unlike the normally friendly lady, and Mrs. Bitterman lived alone, so Amanda had instantly caught the fact that she’d used the term ‘us’ when she talked about Truman visiting. It gave her something to think about as she slowly pedaled home, the image of Truman hugging the old lady still fresh in her mind.
The ride home on her bike was a bit long and a fair amount of it was uphill so by the time Amanda rolled into her circular drive she was puffing with exertion and keeping an eye on the gray clouds moving in over Ravenwood Cove. She’d had plenty of time to think about her encounter with Mrs. Bitterman while she’d pedaled home, and she’d also figured out one other thing. If Mrs. Bitterman had mentioned Thanksgiving break, that was a term usually reserved for someone in school. Just as she put the key in her front door she paused, remembering. Two nights before, Truman had been waving at her from across the street as he walked his dog Benny by the Ravenwood Inn. He’d been wearing a warm gray hoodie with the name of a university on it. Amanda put her purse down and tried to remember exactly what it had said.
It was the name of the largest university in the state, and had the added words PHARMACOLOGY DEPARTMENT written in block letters underneath.
Pharmacology. Drugs and medicine and such. A place that would teach information that could be absolutely deadly in the hands of a student with a grudge.
Maybe Mrs. Mason was right when she’d told Amanda about the argument Truman had with Anderson Bowles in the bakery. Maybe he was capable of killing someone.
Chapter 17
It took Amanda almost an hour to poke around on the internet enough to find the contact information for Brian Whittier, an old friend who’d worked with her in LA. She’d remembered that Brian had always rooted for the football team of the same university that Truman attended, and at this point she was desperate for any info or leads she could get. Brian sounded surprised and pleased to hear from her, and after exchanging some pleasantries he gave her another phone number, this time for a buddy of his who had gone to the pharmacology school.
Armed with the fact that she knew how old Truman was from his conversation about his last birthday, she had calculated the approximate years that Truman may have attended pharmacology classes. Amanda felt awkward and uncomfortable calling a stranger, but Sheila was friendly and chatty on the phone. She hadn’t attended at the same time Truman had, but her younger brother had, and she gave her his number. Within fifteen minutes of her leaving Alan a voicemail she got a call back.
“Alan, did you know a Truman Majors from college?”
“Sure I did. He roomed in the same dorm I did, just down the hall. We used to go to the games together, and he’s the best chess pla
yer I ever saw. How’s he doing?”
Amanda tried to keep her voice neutral and friendly. “Well, he’s doing fine,” she lied. “He’s started a new business in Ravenwood Cove, as the owner of a kite and bike store, but I had some questions about his time there at the pharmacology school. Can you help me out?”
There was a pause. “You’re not a reporter or something, are you? He’s not some secret serial killer or international drug lord, right? Look, I just don’t want to be that guy on the news who always says ‘he seemed like such a nice guy and I never suspected a thing’.” The words were light, but his tone was serious. “Truman seems like a good guy and I don’t want to get him in any trouble.”
“Actually, I’m a friend of his and I’m trying to see if we can keep him out of trouble,” Amanda said, trying to keep her voice steady. It wasn’t exactly a lie, even if it wasn’t entirely the truth. “I know he went to the pharmacology school there, but I don’t know when he left or why. Did he graduate?”
There was a snort of laughter, or maybe disgust, from Alan. “He should have graduated; he was the best student in the program. You never heard what happened, did you? Figures he wouldn’t tell people.”
“What happened?” It was almost as though Amanda’s heart skipped a beat while she waited for the answer.
“Truman was interested in some girl here. Evelyn, I think. He’d been mooning over her for months, and the first time they went out on a date this other guy got mad at him and they had a big argument. I guess the guy thought that she was his girl, but Truman really liked Evelyn and he wouldn’t back down. After he’d taken her out on a couple of dates, the other guy set him up.”
“Set him up how?” Amanda shivered with a sudden chill, and pulled her cardigan closer around her.
“He made it look like Truman was cheating on the final exam, and made sure the professor caught him. With all the evidence against him, he didn’t stand a chance and he got booted out of school. It was completely messed up, and it kind of broke Truman. He just wasn’t the same after that.”
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