Death by Espresso
Page 8
“Right.” This time, her laugh sounded genuine and relaxed.
“We can hang it up after all of this blows over,” I said.
“Why not hang it now?” she asked. “I left it at the store. It’s in the filing cabinet, bottom drawer. We can get the applications in now. Then we can decide whether we want to wait until after the wedding to hire, or get someone in earlier so they can get to training right away. I will be gone for two weeks on my honeymoon, so adding another hand around the store would be a good thing.”
I’d completely forgotten about that. “I’ll put the sign up as soon as I hang up here. Hopefully, we’ll get some good applicants quickly. I’d like to get someone in as soon as possible.” Especially since Vicki’s honeymoon was fast approaching.
“Good deal.”
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
We hung up and I found the sign in the filing cabinet where Vicki had told me it would be. I took it to the door and placed it right where anyone coming in would see it. Once that was done, I started back for the counter, but stopped to stare out on the street, mind elsewhere.
Cars drifted by, windows down as their occupants enjoyed the nice weather. Quite a lot of people were walking, talking amongst themselves as they went about their daily lives. Parents fed children. Children played with friends.
And somewhere out there: a killer.
9
It was still light out when I left Death by Coffee and headed for home. I loved the work I did there, but boy, during the summer months, it could get hot in the kitchen. I desperately wanted a shower, and I hoped afterward I’d have a nice sit-down with Laura so I could learn more about her.
When I pulled into my driveway, I was disappointed to see Dad’s rental was gone and the house empty. A note sat on the counter telling me he took Laura out to eat at J&E’s Banyon Tree and I could join if I wanted. He tacked on a smiley face at the end, since he knew my thoughts about the place.
While meeting them was tempting, I wasn’t on the best terms with the owners, so instead, I took my shower, got dressed into something that didn’t have coffee stains splattered down the front of it, and headed out to do exactly what the police wouldn’t want me to do.
Out of all the people the Pattersons had brought with them from California, I knew only where Lyric Granderson was staying: Ted and Bettfast. It had come to me while at work, so I hadn’t lied when I’d told Chief Dalton I didn’t know where any of the Californian guests were staying. It had simply slipped my mind at the time, which, honestly, had to be expected considering where I had been and what had happened. And while it might be a good idea to call the police and tell them what I’d remembered, I decided against it. Buchannan would take it as me holding out on them, even if I did tell them. Best skip that unpleasantness altogether. I had confidence they would figure it out on their own.
I wasn’t sure what Lyric might be able to tell me about Cathy or who might have wanted to kill her, but I did remember the look she’d given Gina when she’d tried to give Vicki the necklace. I hoped she might be able to tell me more about the piece of jewelry, because you didn’t glare at someone over something you knew nothing about.
Ted and Bettfast was an old mansion turned bed-and-breakfast, nestled halfway up one of the hills that gave Pine Hills its name. The building was showing its age, and sadly, repairs had stopped long ago. Still, I liked the place and hoped to one day stay there, just to get away from the craziness that had become my life. Sure, it wasn’t like I was leaving town, but something about the serene location, the hedge animals, and surrounding trees, made me feel as if the bed-and-breakfast was on an island all its own where nothing could get to me.
I knew it wasn’t true, considering its history, but hey, I’m allowed to dream.
I pulled into the lot, just as a silver car sped around the corner, nearly taking out my front end. I leaned on the horn, but the driver didn’t slow.
“Jerk,” I muttered, before I took note of the handful of cars already in the lot. The Bunfords, who own the place, would account for one or two of them. They also usually kept one or two staff on hand to help out since they weren’t getting any younger. That meant, of the three remaining cars, one of them must be Lyric’s. I was guessing it was the shiny silver Audi.
I parked a few spots down from the Audi, not wanting to accidentally ding the thing with my door, and then headed inside in the hopes of finding Lyric Granderson. As far as I knew, she was out, experiencing what little Pine Hills would have to offer someone like her, which meant my visit could very well be in vain.
A woman I knew, Jo, was standing by the counter, filling out a form of some kind. She’d worked at Ted and Bettfast ever since I’d discovered the place, and while she used to enjoy having me poke around, she seemed to have soured on me since. It was a shame, really. When we’d first met, she’d practically treated me like a celebrity. I kind of missed it.
I cleared my throat, causing her to glance up. As soon as she saw me, she stiffened, and her eyes darted around as if looking for an escape.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, setting the pen down and hurrying to where I stood.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m meeting someone.” It might not be the full truth, but I didn’t want to get thrown out. Let’s just say, the owners, Ted and Bett Bunford, weren’t exactly thrilled with me lately on account of that every time I showed up, someone ended up dead. I didn’t kill them, of course, but murder seemed to follow me around like mosquitoes during the summer.
“Bett told us to tell her if you showed up.” Jo shot a glance toward a door I took to be the Bunfords’ office. “I think she’s going to ask you to leave.”
Even though I solved all the murder cases involving the guests here, it did make for bad publicity. Who would want to stay somewhere where people kept dying?
And, in a way, I understood why they might not want me to come back. If I was poking around, it meant something bad had happened. Or was about to. If I was Ted or Bett Bunford, I probably wouldn’t want to see me either.
“I’ll just need a few minutes,” I said. And before Jo could protest, I added, “Lyric Granderson. She said she was staying here. A friend of hers died and I was hoping I could talk to her about it, make sure she’s okay.” Once again, not quite the truth, but it was close enough that I didn’t think I’d get into too much trouble if she found out the real reason I was there.
Jo went through a myriad of expressions, ranging from worried, to angry, to sympathetic, and finally to resigned, all in the span of a few seconds.
“You’ll have five, maybe ten minutes.” Her eyes darted around the room, as if afraid someone might overhear. “If Bett catches you, I’m going to tell her you snuck in.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”
She nodded, worried at her hands a moment, and then pointed toward the back. “She’s out by the pool.” And then, before someone could see us together, she hurried away.
I shot Jo a silent thanks and then headed for the glass doors that led out onto the large patio and belowground pool. It looked much the same as when I was last here, including the volleyball net in the pool, the lounge chairs, and the empty bar that was likely only in use when there was a party. The water looked cool and refreshing. Despite my shower, I still felt a bit grungy from work and would have loved to dive in, but couldn’t, not if I wanted to talk to Lyric. One of these days, I was going to bring a swimsuit and take a dip, regardless of why I was there. It’d been a long time since I’d been swimming, and I could use the exercise.
Lyric was seated in one of the lounge chairs by the pool, staring out over the water. She glanced up as I approached, face neutral, and then returned her gaze back to the water as if I hadn’t even registered on her consciousness.
“Hi, Lyric. It’s Krissy. I don’t know if you remember me . . .”
“I do.”
“Would you mind if I sat down?”
“Suit yourself.”
I took a seat next to her and then stared out over the water to gather my thoughts. I didn’t know how well Lyric knew Cathy, or even if she liked her, which made it hard to decide how to lead in. I didn’t even know how well she knew the Pattersons, though I imagined they had to be friends or else they wouldn’t have brought her along for their daughter’s wedding.
“It’s a shame about Cathy,” I said, testing the waters as gently as I could. Hard to get offended about that.
Lyric grunted. “If you say so.”
“You didn’t like her?”
“Barely knew her, to be honest.” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye before returning her gaze to the water. “From what I gathered, she didn’t try to endear herself to anyone. She liked to bully people into doing things her way, even if it meant no one liked her because of it.”
That jibed with what I knew of Cathy Carr—abrasive and self-centered. “Do you think anyone had a reason to kill her?”
Lyric shrugged. “Look deep enough, you can find a reason for everyone.”
I wondered if she was including herself in that. “So . . .” I stretched out the word while I figured out how to ask the next question. “The necklace—”
Lyric’s head whipped around, eyes going hard. “It was supposed to be mine!”
I jerked back as if she’d come at me, but she remained seated. Her hands were clenched, as were her teeth. I had a feeling that if Gina were here with the necklace in hand, she would have tried to snatch it from her.
Lyric took a couple of deep breaths, which seemed to calm her, though her fists remained tightly balled. “My mother wore that necklace in The Nest of the Viper. It was supposed to be mine afterward, but that woman took it.”
“Are you saying Gina stole your mother’s necklace?”
“Well, no.” Lyric turned back to the water to glare at it instead. “She weaseled her way into my mother’s good graces and convinced her to give it to her instead of me. I’ve tried for years to get it back. Mother died last year, which made me feel its loss even more. I would like to have it to remember her by.”
I hated to think it, but it sounded like something Gina would do. She only cared about herself most of the time, and something like a mother’s death wouldn’t sway her, not if she would be forced to give up something of her own. I was glad Vicki had turned out differently.
“Did you get a good look at the necklace the night she gave it to Vicki?” I asked.
Lyric shook her head. “I could barely look. I couldn’t believe she would do that in front of me. That woman . . .” She made a “grrr” sound and then leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know why I bothered coming here at all if that’s the way she was going to treat me.”
I wasn’t sure how much I could tell her without getting on the bad side of the local police, but felt she should know. “Lyric,” I said, keeping my voice low, soothing. “Your mother’s necklace was found on Cathy’s body.”
She looked over at me, eyes wide. “She was trying to steal it?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, watching her closely. If anyone had a reason to sneak into Vicki’s house after the necklace, it was Lyric Granderson. “But when the police found it, they were able to determine that it was a fake.”
“A fake?”
“The diamonds and the ruby aren’t real.”
Lyric sat up straight, shaking her head. “That can’t be.”
“Do you think someone might have stolen the real necklace and replaced it with a replica?”
“I . . . They . . .” She frowned. “It’s possible, but who would do such a thing? I’m the only person here who cares about the damn thing.” Her eyes widened again. “You don’t think I could have had something to do with Cathy’s murder, do you?”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Though, honestly, I wasn’t so sure. Lyric had made it abundantly clear she was interested in the necklace. And since it had been found on Cathy’s body, or at least, a copy had been, there was a good chance it was the reason she was killed.
“If I would have stolen my necklace back and replaced it with a fake, do you really think I’d still be here in this pathetic little town? I’d be on the first flight back home, and away from these . . . people.” She said the last as if referring to the lowest of the lowlifes.
“What about the wedding?” I asked.
“I don’t care about the wedding. In fact, the only reason I’m here at all is because of some stupid movie.”
“A movie’s being shot in Pine Hills?” If so, it was the first I was hearing of it.
Lyric gave me a “how stupid are you?” look. “Of course not. Who would shoot a movie here?”
That stung a little. I mean, Pine Hills wasn’t California, but it had its own charm. I’d take the rolling hills, the quiet vistas, over the bustle of the bigger cities I’d grown up in.
“Gina and Frederick have small, but significant, roles in a movie,” Lyric explained. “They know the director pretty well, which is why they were given the parts.” She made a face that told me she didn’t think very highly of that. “I auditioned for one of the lead roles, but don’t think I’m going to get it. I was hoping to get in close with Gina or Frederick and see if they could put in a good word for me. It’s like that in Hollywood, you know? It’s not always about who’s prettiest or the best actress, but often about who you know.”
“So, you came all the way out here to suck up to Gina and Frederick?”
She shrugged. “It sounded like a good idea at the time. I could get them to put in a good word for me, while spending some quality time away from the glamor and lights. Now, I’m thinking I would have been better served staying home and using my charms on the director himself.” She shuddered, as if the thought was enough to make her sick.
“Your plan not working?”
“Gina will barely speak to me,” she said. “I swear, that woman only cares about herself. Not only is my necklace missing, now it appears as if I wasted my time coming here. There’s nothing to do, no one important to see.” She rolled her eyes skyward, as if hoping for guidance from above.
And I didn’t feel the least bit sorry for her. I don’t know if it was the way she dismissed Cathy’s death so easily, or how she acted like Vicki and Mason meant nothing to her, but she rubbed me the wrong way. Even if they didn’t matter one iota, she could have at least pretended to care.
As casually as I could, I asked, “Where were you last night?” Then added, just so she wouldn’t think I was implying anything, “Just curious. I saw a few of the others that night, but didn’t see you.”
“I was here,” she said. If she was upset by my question, she didn’t show it. “It was a long journey and I fell asleep by the poolside. The rest of the town might not be anything to look at, but at least it’s quiet here.”
I wanted to ask if anyone could confirm that, but figured that would be taking it too far. I was sure the police had already asked her that very same question, and if not, they would eventually get around to it. I could go in and ask Jo to confirm, but if she wasn’t working, that meant I might have to go to the Bunfords. That was something I wasn’t going to do.
I ran down my mental list, and decided there was little else I could ask her without raising her suspicions. I’d already pressed enough. “Thank you for your time,” I said, rising. “I hope you find your necklace.”
She nodded, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. Apparently, I was dismissed.
Instead of going back through Ted and Bettfast, I decided to go around. No sense risking getting caught by Bett on my way through, though I hoped to make good with her sometime. I hated the fact she blamed me for the past disasters that had befallen her bed-and-breakfast guests.
As I got in my car, I considered what I’d learned. Lyric hadn’t done a thing to make herself seem innocent of the murder. In fact, she’d given me more of a reason to suspect her tha
n dismiss her, and I wondered if the police were doing the same. There were still too many unanswered questions for me to be sure one way or the other. And I was worried I was focusing on the wrong thing. Just because Cathy had had the fake necklace on her when she’d died, it didn’t mean it had anything to do with her death.
And quite frankly, I still wasn’t positive she’d been murdered. If she’d choked on those espresso beans she’d been popping like candy, it could very well have been an accident. A crazy, highly unlikely accident, but an accident all the same.
Yeah, I was probably fooling myself, but darn it, I so wasn’t looking forward to yet another murder investigation in my quiet little town.
Either way, there was still more I could learn if I played my cards right. I just had to ask the right questions of the right people, without getting myself injured, or worse, killed.
I might not have all the answers now, but I suspected there were some people who very well might, and I knew exactly where to find them.
10
It was so eerily similar to before, I almost drove away.
Night had fallen, and after the murder, Vicki’s house looked sinister in the dark. A light was on upstairs. Another downstairs. It was just like the night of Cathy’s death. I was half afraid that if I were to get out and go to the door, everything would unfold exactly the same way, just with someone else lying facedown in the kitchen.
I sat in my car with the engine running, trying to decide if I wanted to take that chance. It didn’t appear as if anyone was home, because my car was the only one in the driveway. But with the lights on, it did make me wonder. I watched for a shadow to pass over one of the windows, but nothing so much as twitched inside.
That doesn’t mean anything. If someone had killed Cathy, and done it by accident while searching for something—let’s say, the necklace—then they could very well have come back, looking for it. As far as I knew, only a handful of people knew Cathy had the necklace—or at least a replica—on her when she was killed. The killer might not even have realized there was nothing to find.