Your Goose Is Cooked (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery)

by S. Dionne Moore

  William seemed pleased with himself as he caught up the order slip and ladled up the French onion soup. He made quick work of slicing the rest of the bread and tucking it into a cloth napkin in a basket for delivery to those who’d ordered salads.

  That’s when his attention shifted beyond me. His expression melted, the smile smearing into a hard frown. It came to me in the time it took me to turn around, that William must be seeing the man he’d overheard calling the hit on the mayor. Why else such a dramatic change in his demeanor. Lester Riley blurted out a greeting to the man right about the time I laid eyes on my newest patron.

  Chapter Eight

  “Aidan! Been looking at that bracelet for my Mary. When you going to have a sale?”

  My thoughts came crashing together in a riptide. I observed the dark-haired, dark-eyed, golden-tanned newbie of Maple Gap and realized I’d been right on in my thoughts at Dr. Cryer’s office. This is who William had tried so hard to describe.

  I waited for Aidan to pull a gun or jump over the counter and push me to the floor as he made a wild run to the kitchen and William. Not that that was going to happen or anything. Shoving me out of the way was going to be like pushing a parked eighteen-wheeler. And guns didn’t scare me. One shot. Bang. I’m in heaven. Hello, Moses, Noah, and Jesus. Let’s talk shop.

  Or . . . I sucked in a breath as my eyes landed on Mayor Taser’s unsuspecting back.

  My eyes slapped back to Aidan. He didn’t pull out anything. He nodded at me, his dark eyes solemn. “Well, Mr. Lester, not anytime soon.”

  “At least someone waits patiently to be seated,” I said, giving Lester a glare. “More than I can say for most.

  Tucking a menu in front of Aidan, Lester leaned in close to the man. “Can I talk you in to a discount then?”

  That’s when I remembered William and the folly of having seated Aidan at the bar, where he’d have a perfect view into the kitchen. I swung around and lowered my head to catch a glimpse of the cook, fully expecting him to be shaking in a corner of the kitchen. He was nowhere to be found. I’m guessing he scooted himself out the back door. I had to remain calm and level-headed. To think clearly.

  “. . . into salads, then she’s got some real good spaghetti. ’Course, you can order most anything and it’ll be the best you’ve ever ate.” Lester’s voice.

  I sucked in air and grabbed up a glass. “If you don’t get to be mayor, maybe I’ll hire you as a waiter.”

  “Aw, LaTisha, you know you could use the help, especially with William going out the back door like he did. He sick or something?”

  Thank you, Lester.

  I filled the glass with sweet tea, my eyes hard on Aidan. He stared at the menu. I could detect no hint of interest in the subject. But I’d read enough about professional killers to know they showed no emotion, which was the very reason my heart started slamming.

  I cracked my lips in a smile. “I’ll be right back, honey.” I’d gone exactly five steps when Lester hollered out.

  “You want me to take his order?”

  I made it to Chief’s table and slapped the glass down hard enough to get his attention, before yelling back my answer to Lester. “Sure.”

  Chief let go of Regina’s hand, his smile sagging a bit.

  “Tell William his bread is divine. Do you think he’d—”

  I rolled my eyes at Regina, then fastened on Chief. “Iced tea,” I said, slow, letting my tongue caress each letter. “It’s getting powerful hot in here. Powerful hot. Didn’t want you to die of thirst.”

  “Why, LaTisha,” Regina’s eyes darted between the chief and me. “It’s not that hot. Are you feeling badly?”

  Chief touched Regina’s hand. She went silent.

  He made no move and I could almost see him shift into alert mode, weighing my words, trying to make sense of things. I burned my eyes into the chief’s. “That sun can take a powerful hit on a strange man. Now, I’d better get back to Mr. Abbett at the counter.”

  Chief’s eyes narrowed and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. I knew I had to hurry or Aidan might get suspicious and start shooting. I felt a bull’s-eye growing on my back.

  It was just that moment I heard Eugene Taser behind me. “Betsy will take care of the bill, LaTisha. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  I kept my eyes hard on Aidan. His head turned in our direction ever-so-slightly, and I tensed, ready to spring on that boy and jam his arm behind his back, gun and all. But he didn’t move to do more than glance at the table Eugene had vacated, then bend his head to catch whatever blather was dropping from Lester’s lips. I stiff-legged myself back to the counter as the mayor, who had slipped back to his table, returned and passed behind Aidan.

  “What you wantin’, Aidan?” I huffed out fast-like, trying to distract him from the mayor’s exit.

  “Your hose too tight, LaTisha? You sure are breathing hard.” That from Lester. I shot some fire his way, but Lester happily ran his hand up and down the strap of his overalls, grinning wide, not the least bit intimidated. Maybe I wouldn’t vote for him after all.

  When Aidan twitched to the edge of his stool, I hauled myself up to climb over the counter to body-slam him. Only one problem. No, two. First off, this here body doesn’t have the thrust and lift-off it used to and, two, my waistband got stuck on the knob of the drawer that held utensils. The drawer I took with me, utensils spattering all around my feet, the drawer smacking against the back of my legs. Or leg, really. You see, what really put a cork in my intention to leap over the counter was my left leg. It got stuck. So there I stood, my left heel on the countertop while the rest of me was spewing utensils.

  Aidan’s eyes went round with wonder as he stared a hole through me. I thought I saw a glimmer of smile around his lips, but he turned and left. Lester leaned over the counter, surveying the length of my left leg, and braying like a donkey. I hoped he laughed his head off. Chief and Regina scrambled over my way.

  Regina began to help me edge my leg off the counter while Chief stared between me and a hysterical Lester.

  “Don’t you have some campaigning to do, Lester Riley?” Regina shot at the overwrought councilman. She managed to scrape my heel back enough to free my leg. Good thing, because muscles, ligaments, bone, and tendons were all screaming something fierce.

  “And don’t you have yourself someone to chase, Chad Conrad?” I suggested between the grinds of my teeth, as my leg throbbed like Poe’s tell-tale heart. He nodded, hiked up his belt, and held the door as Flossie beat it out the door. I wondered if she was in a hurry to keep from laughing or if she had other things on her mind. Betsy came to the counter, money in hand. She didn’t hold back at all. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Don’t worry your head about me, Betsy. You got enough problems to—”

  “I hope you have a good day,” Regina chirped as she passed Betsy her change. I didn’t know if she was trying to distract me or Betsy as she dropped the change into Betsy’s palm one penny at a time. But it worked. Betsy left without further verbal warfare.

  A few scattered chuckles rained down on me from Lester’s direction. I pressed my hands on the counter and got up close and personal with Lester. “If you don’t stop your laughing, Carl Baereum is going to have new reason to live up to his name.”

  Lester did his best to suck in his laughter and keep a straight face. “That was better than your testimony—”

  “Lester”—I speared him with my eyes—“It wouldn’t be good for a mayoral candidate to be seen sucking uncooked spaghetti noodles through his nose. You feeling me on that?”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Then we’ll be having peace.”

  Lester bent his head to his plate, twirling some noodles around the tines of his fork and popping the bite into his mouth, though the twinkle in his eye was unmistakable.

  Regina stayed with me long enough to get the wave of people from the lunch rush under control. I was mighty anxious to know if Chief was making headway, but couldn’t lea
ve to find out.

  Before she left, Regina had enlisted the help of Lester. I suggested he use the time to get to know the people better and get to glad-handing, which he did with great zeal. When things slowed down, I flipped the sign to Closed, got the food prepped for the evening, checked the chicken noodle soup, put the pork on to roast for the evening special, and left Lester chatting with the last two people in the restaurant.

  Outside of Your Goose Is Cooked, the silence of the town struck me hard in the face. Strange that. Sure, everyone had probably returned to work, but there were usually the sounds of the two buses, or children, or stray pedestrians. I hustled down the sidewalk heading toward the corner to cross over Spender Avenue, intending to check on Hardy first, but sixty feet down the walk, I saw the bumper of a police cruiser hanging out of the alley that separated the corner building, Carl’s funeral home, from the row that housed Wig-Out, Big Sky, the Distant Echo, and the Goose. Twenty-five feet into the alley, Chief Conrad stood beside his car, hands on his hips, following the path of his deputy, Mac Simpson, who was steaming my way and closing in fast.

  “Mrs. Barnhart,” he whispered at me, motioning me to meet him halfway. I came even with him ten feet into the alley, dread tightening my insides as he walked with me toward Chief Conrad.

  “What’s the fuss about?”

  “I’ll let Chief explain.”

  Chief was talking into his radio. He motioned to Mac, who obviously knew what he was to do because he turned and trotted back to the mouth of the alley. I waited for Chief to finish, dread churning my insides as I caught some of the conversation.

  “We’ve got a problem, LaTisha,” he finally put the radio down. “We found Aidan Abbett in the alley. I’m posting Mac as guard. Without getting too close, I want you to look over the scene.”

  “Aidan?” My mind reeled at the words Chief slung at me. My head filled with images of Marion Peters. “You mean, he’s dead?”

  “Shot.” Chief reached out, but I didn’t feel his hand make contact, just heard his voice. “LaTisha? LaTisha!”

  Chapter Nine

  “She’s coming around, Hardy.”

  I cracked an eye open in time to catch Hardy’s reply. “Never thought I’d see the day she took a horizontal dive.”

  Hardy was talking with his mouth full again. He did it to rankle me, knowing I’d told him a hundred times no one wanted to see ground up food in someone else’s mouth. Something gnawed at my brain. Something about the way Hardy was talking. It burst into focus. Ah, he didn’t have a mouth full at all. He had a mouth empty! But why was I on the ground?

  Hardy’s face filled my view. “Better you get on your feet, Carl’s measuring you up for a coffin.”

  He was definitely talking funny. That he could talk at all was a surprise. My head was cushioned in his lap and I was staring up at the sky. I tried to sit up, but Hardy stopped me. His eyes pierced me through. Despite all his fool talk, he was worried. About me.

  “What happened?” I croaked out.

  Chief Conrad knelt beside me. “I caught you before you hit the pavement. Hardy walked up soon afterward. Doctor Gordon is on his way.”

  “I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine.” To prove it, I pushed upward, allowing the chief and Hardy to help me to my feet, and brushed myself off. “How long was I out?”

  “About two minutes,” Chief answered. “Just enough time for Hardy to come speeding down the sidewalk when Mac motioned him to hurry.”

  I took in the scene all over again, aware of the fact that an officer was putting up the yellow tape to cordon off the area where Aidan lay, farther down in that alley and around the bend. Dead. Shot.

  I shuddered.

  Hardy pressed close to my side and I ran my hand over the top of his head; it felt a lot like fuzzy Velcro. “I’m okay,” I assured him. “But you, you need to get yourself home and lay down. I thought you were going to call me to pick you up.”

  “I did. Lester said you left ahead of him. When Lester said you weren’t there, Doc let me walk down here. Good thing too.” His woeful eyes went to the pavement. “Bad news is the surface is cracked where you hit it.”

  I shook my finger in his face so that he went cross-eyed to focus on it. “You better shut your trap, Hardy Barnhart. That crack was there before I went down.”

  Hardy pursed his lips and pretended to study the crack real hard. “Could be. It’s definitely a little wider though.”

  I wheeled Hardy around, aiming him in the direction of the restaurant. “You get yourself into Old Lou and lay yourself down.”

  “I don’t want to lay down. I just woke up!”

  “Then head over and check on things. Get Wil—” A shock jolted my heart into a gallop. “Where’s William?”

  Chief Conrad’s brow creased. “I haven’t seen him.” His eyes got squinty. “Why are you asking about him?”

  I didn’t want to think it. Not gentle William. But Chief had already caught on to something rolling in my head.

  “I think we need to talk, LaTisha.”

  “I’m out of here,” Hardy chirped.

  I scrubbed him down with my eyes. Just like this boy to take off when the heat starts to rise. “I got pork going in the slow cooker. Try not to burn down the Goose.” I pulled him close. “You feeling well enough to handle things?” I was tempted to tell him to close down the restaurant for the evening, but he looked perky in spite of the slight swelling around his mouth. I figured the drugs would wear off soon enough and then he’d be spiraling and looking for his bed, but if he could keep an eye on things at the Goose . . .

  Hardy grinned, flashing the temporary teeth Dr. Cryer had put in while his gums healed. No gold tooth. It just wasn’t the same, but I couldn’t fret myself over it now. I gave him a pat on the rump to send him on his way. He glanced at me over his shoulder and wagged his eyebrows. Pert little thing.

  Chief was scribbling on a stack of papers. My eyes trailed down the alley but I saw no sign of Aidan’s body. He must have gotten shot around the corner. I steeled my nerves and warmed to the task like a pot of water headed toward boil.

  “You tell me what you have,” Chief said.

  So I spilled the whole story, ending with William leaving the restaurant after laying eyes on Aidan.

  “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that you should have—”

  “Come directly to you. You think I don’t know that? You got to admit it’s a real twist to find Aidan is the one shot dead and not the mayor.”

  “My first guess lands on William. This doesn’t look good for him.”

  I was feeling him on that.

  “The fact he has kept his ability to hear and speak a secret seems suspect.”

  “There are rumors. And he’s got reasons.”

  “I’ve heard those rumors. Maybe you can convince him to talk to me. He’ll have to anyway.”

  “Tried to before this but he’s . . . shy that way.”

  Chief consulted his notepad. “There had to be a silencer on the gun, otherwise someone would have heard the shot. My guess is he’s been dead no longer than a half hour.” He motioned me to walk with him and I knew we were headed to the scene. “I’ll need to find William and ask some of the townspeople of their whereabouts.” He lowered his voice. “You’ll help, won’t you? I’ll hire you on as a consultant. No one can deny your knack with solving crimes, or your insight with people.”

  “You know I’ll help.” And as much as I hated thinking William had done the deed, I had to shuck all my emotional attachments and approach the case as a professional. “I’ll find William and the mayor.”

  “Even those who were inside the restaurant are suspect. I won’t know for sure how long Aidan’s been dead until after the coroner arrives, but people might be more willing to air their grievances toward him if they don’t know he’s dead.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  My thoughts tripped back to William. “I can tell you William was scared to death when he saw Aidan w
alk into the Goose. You really thinking he could have done something without planning it first?”

  Chief nodded. “Fear can drive a person to extremes. No one knows William very well, LaTisha.”

  We rounded the bend. I kept my eyes on Chief, steeling myself. “I’ll go out to his house. I’m thinking I’ll just close the restaurant up for the night. Hardy won’t be worth much, what with his teeth, and the pork will keep.”

  Chief’s face tightened. His eyes darted to something off to my right. “It’s not pretty. Take a deep breath and don’t go closer.”

  Every ounce of spit in my mouth had evaporated. “Not a problem with that.” I turned my head and absorbed the scene in slow stages, as I had done once before, months ago, over the body of Marion Peters and then again over Polly Dent. A wide pool of blood marked the spot below Aidan’s head. He lay on his stomach, face to the side. I pulled air into my lungs and exhaled real slow. “When will the state police show up?”

  “Within thirty minutes is my guess.”

  “Found anything?”

  “There’s a bullet lodged in the wall. It seems to line up with the projection of the exit wound. We’ll know more after the crime scene techs do their thing.”

  Another voice piped up from behind us. “LaTisha?”

  It was Mac Simpson.

  “Hardy came back for you. He needs the key to open up the Goose.”

  I eyeballed Chief Conrad and retraced my steps. “Maybe I will open up tonight. It’ll be a good time to do some questioning.”

  Chief motioned Mac closer and whispered something to him. Mac moved off toward the entrance to the alley. Chief jotted something down, then met my gaze head-on. “I know where you were, LaTisha, but as a matter of routine, I’ll have to look into Hardy’s whereabouts. I’ll head over to check in with Doctor Cryer and meet you at the Goose. Don’t go anywhere until I’ve cleared Hardy.”