“He wants to lease the space? Is it going up for lease?”
“Yes, and I don’t know, but Delphina said there was no way Bobby would even consider selling, and when we pressed him for information, we couldn’t get much more out of him.”
“I’ll check into it.”
“That’s a good idea. Let me know what you find out.”
He muttered something about women being the death of him and we disconnected. I chuckled at that.
The suspect list continued to grow, and any success I thought I’d made, which wasn’t all that much, flew right out the window. Who could I confirm would have access to the knife? I counted the number of people on my hands, and there were several. I took it a step further. You had access to the knife as well as a motive? Other than myself, four people. When I added opportunity, that list stayed the same.
I didn’t count the two cooks in the kitchen when I got there. I probably should have, but my gut told me it was one of three people, and neither of them were on that list.
Chapter Ten
I JUMPED IN MY CAR and drove over to Rashid Patel’s restaurant. He’d chosen the perfect location for access on and off the interstate, but I understood his concern about the size of the place. What I didn’t understand was how he’d thought he could get a hold of Bobby’s.
Located in a small strip mall on the edge of town, his restaurant housed the prime corner unit, but it was tiny. The sign on the door was flipped to closed, but lights were on, and I knew he’d be getting ready for lunch, so I knocked.
Rashid peeked out from the kitchen, waved and strolled over. He didn’t act like a man that had just committed murder, but I doubted I’d recognize someone that had.
“Hello, Miss Adair. What can I do for you?” His eyes shifted back and forth as he checked the parking lot.
“I just wanted to ask you a few quick questions.”
He nodded. “Come in. Come in. Is it in regard to the competition?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, yes. I am just preparing another batch of my secret recipe barbecue. Would you like a sample? It’s quite good this morning.”
“Oh, no thank you, I had breakfast, and I’m stuffed, but I appreciate it.”
“Well, come. Sit. Perhaps you would like tea or coffee or perhaps a traditional Indian drink? I can offer you chaach or aam panna. They are quite tasteful.”
“No, I’m fine. This shouldn’t take long.”
He stood there, just nodding and staring at me. Finally, he said, “Okay.”
I stayed standing. Looking up at the slender man from a seat didn’t seem like the right way to go about asking him my questions. “I understand you went to see Bobby Pruitt the morning he died?”
He blinked and nodded. “Yes, yes. I wanted to make amends. I do not like discord or trepidation in my life. I try hard to cleanse it. It is very freeing.”
“Yes, I imagine it is. What made you decide to do that?” I scanned the tables, and I noticed the utensils and napkins were in a small serving station in the corner near the kitchen. I needed to get a look at one of the knives. If they at least had a similar look to what I’d seen sticking out of Bobby’s back, I’d have to keep Rashid on the list. If they didn’t, I’d keep him on the list, but he’d be on the bottom of it.
“I did not want to enter the competition with an angry mind. I wanted to stream positivity in, and to do that, I needed to express my apologies and forgive, even if Mr. Pruitt could not forgive me.”
I coughed. “You know, on second thought, my throat is a little dry. I’d love some water if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, yes. I can do that for you. One moment please.” He walked back to the kitchen.
When he was out of eyesight, I scurried over to the serving station, plucked a knife from the utensil cups and examined it quickly. I’d need to somehow compare it to the knives at Bobby’s, so I stashed it in my purse. Great. Clearing myself from a murder suspect list made me a thief.
He returned from the kitchen and handed me a glass of water without ice. I sipped it because I didn’t want to be a hypocrite and a liar. “Thank you.”
“You were asking?”
“Oh, yeah. Was Bobby willing to forgive?”
“Oh, yes. He was quite happy. We discussed it briefly, and made our amends, and then I was on my way.”
“How long were you there?”
“I was there five minutes.”
“Wow, that’s pretty exact.”
He pointed to his temple. “I have a good sense of these things.”
Or else you’re a liar, I thought. “Okay, well, thank you. I appreciate it. I’m looking forward to the competition.”
“I am quite excited. I have addressed some issues with my family recipe, and I have made improvements. It will be ready, and it will be the best there. I will win.”
He might be a winner, but he was definitely a liar. There was no way Bobby Pruitt made any kind of amends with Rashid Patel.
__________
MY FITBIT SAID IT WAS coming up on ten o’clock, so I assumed Jesse Lye was at home prepping his food truck. I did a quick search online to find his address and thankfully the food truck popped up to what I suspected was his home. He wasn’t far from where I was, so I headed over there, hoping I could sneak a look at his knife collection.
It was Julia prepping the food truck though, not Jesse. She crouched down on the back side of it, scrubbing the door forcefully. I walked up and tensed immediately when I saw her.
“What do you want now?” she asked. Her snarl wavered, and she actually forced a pitiful half smile and froze it onto her face. “I’m sorry. Rough few days. The police just left.”
“I know things are tense with the competition and all, but I’m hoping you can tell me what happened with y’all, in your own words.”
“Why? Jesse already told you everything, and I really don’t think it’s any of your business.”
“We both had some kind of confrontation with Bobby. I’m just trying to piece everything together so we can all get on with our lives.”
“I think I’ll leave the investigation to the cops, not some small-town divorcée looking to add a little excitement to her life.”
Ouch. That wasn’t necessary.
She scrubbed the door in one spot for so long I thought the paint would come off. She tossed the brush into the bucket beside her. “I can tell you this though, Bobby? He’d never make it in Jersey, I know that much. People there don’t put up with jerks like him.”
I nodded. “Are you still planning to attend the competition?”
She stood and swiped the back of her hand across her forehead. “Why wouldn’t we? It’s great for business, and God knows we need that after the crap that tyrant put us through.”
“Do you prepare the food in your house?”
She nodded. “Listen, I have a lot to do. Jess took our daughter to daycare today for a change, and I’d like to get some stuff done before he’s back. So, if you’re done questioning me...”
“Just one more thing. What’s your favorite knife brand?”
Her face turned red. “I’d like you to leave now.” She opened the back of the truck and stepped inside.
__________
I KNEW WHERE MAYBELLE Parker lived, and headed that direction. It wasn’t far from Julia and Jesse Lye’s place. My mother would have said to take the gravel road to the big farm with the metal fence, turn right there, and then go through the red light and it’s the sixth house on the left, just past the fire hydrant. Which is where it was, and hearing my mom’s voice in my head gave me comfort.
Maybelle greeted me at the door, her nose red and eyes puffy, like she’d been crying. “Oh, Chantilly, can you believe it? It’s just terrible, isn’t it? Poor Bobby.”
Funny, I thought. Just recently she’d acted like she wanted the man dead herself. Could she be behaving according to a plan to seem innocent? Maybe Maybelle Parker wasn’t as nice as everyone thought after all?
“It’s terrible. No one should ever die under circumstances like that.”
“At least he’s with his momma now.” We’d been standing at her door, and she asked me in. “What’s brought you here today?”
“I’m just checking with all of the contestants, to make sure everyone is still interested in the competition, and considering what happened, I thought I’d come talk to you personally, check and see if you’re okay.”
“Why of course we are. Like the signs say, we’re doing this for Bobby. I wouldn’t have it any other way. In fact, I’m thinking of using his recipe, you know, in honor of him.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
I followed her into the kitchen, where she had me sit at a two-top Formica table as she poured herself a coffee. “Would you like one?”
“Sure.” I searched the counters for knives.
“I think Bobby would appreciate it. You know, we used to fight all the time, it wasn’t anything, fighting with him that day. He just knew how to drive people crazy, that’s all.”
I nodded. “Have you decided what you’re going to do for a restaurant?”
“I’ve got something in the works. A partner and I have been working on something kind of on the downlow and all, and I think now it might actually happen.”
“Oh, that must be exciting. What’s going on?”
Her doorbell rang. “Give me a second. I’ve been waiting for a delivery.”
She walked out, and I immediately rushed to the counter and gave each drawer a quick look. I found the knives in the larger drawer and grabbed one. I hurried back to my seat and put it in the back pocket of my purse. I needed to remind myself which knife I’d stashed where, so I quickly typed out a note on my phone.
She came in carrying a large box as I finished and heaved it onto her counter. “Woohee, that was heavy.”
“That’s a big box. I could have helped with it.”
She wiped her hands on her jeans. “It’s fine. I knew it would be heavy. I ordered some samples for my new place, you know, dishes and silverware. I want something a little more farmhouse like, a little more modern than what I’m used to. Would you like to see?”
“Sure.”
She opened the box on the counter and held up a place setting for one, including a spoon and fork, “I’m thinking of something like this. What do you think?”
“I like the blue and white lines. It’s very simple, but fresh.”
She reached into the box again, and had to step on her tiptoes that time. “I love these knives. They’re lovely.”
The knives were the same as the one I’d just taken from her drawer.
“Yes, lovely.”
“You’ve seen them before, I’m sure. They’re like the ones at Hamilton House.”
“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”
She stared at me, twirling a knife in her hand. “Yes, the knives he puts on the tables. He’s had them for years. I thought it would be nice to freshen up the look though, get some new ones.”
“Do you mean for Bobby’s house?”
She flinched. “Oh, no. For my place.”
Maybelle Parker was lying. “I wonder what’s going to happen to Hamilton House now that Bobby’s gone?”
“I’m sure the property will be sold.”
“I’ll have to ask Delphina if Bobby had a will.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why would he have a will?”
I shrugged. “He was my age, and I do. You never know what’s going to happen. Everyone should have one.”
“So, if he left his business to someone, they could run it there?”
I nodded. “Or he could have left the building to someone, and they can do whatever they want with it, as long as it’s within the historical society’s regulations.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Why would you?”
She shook her head. “Oh, nothing. I just meant now. I hadn’t considered that given the circumstances. Anyway, I’ve got some things to get done before I meet with the bank again. I’m moving forward with my life like I said.” She took my cup from her Formica table and placed it in the sink. “I hate to rush you out like this though. We should get together again soon. After the competition, maybe?”
I stood and smiled. “Sure.”
As I walked to my car, I sent Olivia a text and asked her to check on the competition rules for using recipes not originally entered into the competition.
__________
“Hey, Miss Chantilly.” Olivia met me at the front door to the historical society and blocked the entrance with her body.
“Sure, can I have a second to get inside though, please?”
She moved aside and let me in. “Oh, bless my heart. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
I laughed. “It’s okay, sweetie.”
I’ve been doing what you asked, and I found out something important about Mr. Dilts.”
I walked back to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of Olivia’s employee only sweet tea. When I took a sip, I understood why she didn’t want to share it with the public. It tasted like golden sunshine and fresh honey. “This is amazing, Olivia.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
I crooked my finger. “Come on up. We can chat while I’m getting my stuff out.”
She followed me upstairs, and I unpacked my bag as we talked.
“Did you know Mr. Dilts died in jail?”
She’d caught me off guard, and I stopped mid bag-emptying. “No way.”
“Yes, well, after he left Castleberry, seems he ran off with that other woman to Kentucky, married her, and seven years later she was found dead in their home.”
“Let me guess, she was hanged.”
She nodded. “Judge sent him to jail, where he hanged himself a few weeks later.”
“That doesn’t sound like coincidence.”
“It sure doesn’t.”
“Was there a letter?”
“Yes, ma’am. It was written in his wife’s handwriting, but it was shaky, and given the other evidence, the judge felt she’d been coerced to write it. That and the fact that his neighbor walked in to see her hanging there, swinging from the rafter, and Josiah Dilts was having a drink in the parlor, staring at her. Can you imagine?”
“No, I can’t, but maybe he was in shock?”
“But these make it sound like she knew it was coming.”
She handed me two documents, both printed from images of diary pages.
I fear for my life. My husband is not the man I thought he was. I worry I have not long to live, and I fear his fiancée suffered a terrible fate at his hand, too. Oh, how I wish I had known.
“Wow. That’s a big sign right there.”
“It most certainly is.”
“Can you dig up anything else on the trial or something?”
“I’ve been in touch with the Bardwell Historical Society, and they’re emailing me some documents. He was a big deal there for some time, and from what I understand, he wasn’t well liked either.” She showed me three additional documents detailing how not nice Mr. Josiah Dilts actually was.
Josiah Dilts’ wife died in a similar situation as Agnes Hamilton, and that made it a lot easier for me to fight for her reputation in Castleberry. Angela Panther was right. Waiting it out was the way to go. “This is perfect, thank you, Olivia.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She left my office. “I’ve got a tour coming in in a bit, so I’m going to prepare for that,” she said as she walked out.
I looked up toward the ceiling. “I’m doing my best,” I said to Agnes. I just hoped she was there to hear me.
Chapter Eleven
I HEADED STRAIGHT TO Delphina’s, pulled her into her back lot, and entered through her back entrance. “Look.” I carefully removed each knife from my purse and laid them on her desk. “Any of these look familiar?”
They were both the same brand and style.
“Why you got Bobby�
��s knives in your purse? I’m starting to worry about you.”
“That’s exactly what I thought. I just needed you’re confirmation to be sure.”
“What for?”
“They’re not Bobby’s. One’s from Rashid’s restaurant and the other is Maybelle Parker’s. And I couldn’t get one from Jesse and Julia. She wouldn’t let me out of her sight.”
“We all get knives from the same supply company. Most people do.” She walked over to her counter and pulled a knife out of the drawer. “See?”
“Oh.” I examined the knives thoroughly. Look.” I held up Rashid’s knife. It’s blade didn’t have any small rust spots and it wasn’t loose in the handle. My knives were all well used, and old, and many of them had tiny rust spots dotted on the metal. A few were on their last days, loose in my grip from a worn handle. I pointed that all out to Del.
“Yeah, so?”
“Now, look at Maybelle’s knife. I wiggled the blade and it moved inside the handle. “That’s an older knife.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Did Bobby recently purchase his knives?”
She laughed. “You kidding? Bobby didn’t spend a dime unless he had to. But I still don’t see what you’re getting at.”
“Do you know where he keeps the utensils? Is there a station for them in the dining room somewhere?”
“Oh, heavens, no. It’s a nice establishment, not some poorly run franchise. He keeps that stuff in back.” She shook her head. “Don’t matter anyway. That knife that went flying through the dining room, it wasn’t a serving knife. It was a carving knife.”
“How do you know?” It looked like a regular steak knife to me, but I was by no means a cook.
“’Cause I got the same ones, remember?” She pulled another knife out of her drawer. “This here’s a carving knife. This particular brand’s looks just like a steak knife, but the blade is sharper. They can easily pass as steak knives, and are cheaper than their competition, so I know for a fact Bobby bought them. Saved himself some money, too because they’re cheaper than the actual steak knives if you buy them in bulk.”
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