“You could always stay here tonight, rather than drive home.”
Now there was a tempting offer. I debated with myself before standing and pulling out my keys. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t leave Ashlee alone. She needs constant supervision.”
Jason stood up as well. “She sounds like an untrained puppy.”
“I often think of her that way.”
“She may be more grown-up than you realize,” he said. “She’s not a kid anymore.”
“I’m not so sure. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
He walked me to the door and gave me a kiss before I went out to my car. On the way home, I thought about tonight’s adventure. Ryan was still my top choice for who chased me, but what had he been planning to do once he caught me? Maybe he’d only wanted to talk, although if that were the case, he probably would have called out to me. But maybe I’d never been in as much danger as I’d thought.
I glanced in the rearview mirror. All the same, I’d be watching my back.
Chapter 25
The next morning, I hit the snooze alarm twice before I convinced myself to get out of bed. Even if I only served cold cereal and fruit, I still needed to be at the farm before the first guest showed up in the dining room.
I cut my usual shower time in half and pulled my hair back in a ponytail so I could skip the blow drying. Knowing I shouldn’t, I stopped by the Daily Grind to grab a white mocha before I headed out of town.
When I reached the farm, I grabbed my half-drunk coffee out of the cup holder and rushed inside to find the dining room empty. Thank goodness.
I made my way to the kitchen, where a bowlful of fresh eggs sat on the table, a sign that Esther had been up early and out visiting the chicken coop. Now that I’d woken up a bit more, I decided to scramble the eggs for breakfast. I’d even cook up facon, the vegetarian version of bacon that Zennia occasionally served.
Within minutes, the first diners appeared, and I hustled to serve the steady stream of guests. Within the hour, everyone had eaten and left. I cleaned up the kitchen and dining room, eager to get that chore out of the way. Once everything was finished, I sat down in the office to compose the day’s blog and deal with any online correspondence.
By ten, I’d reached a stopping point in my marketing work and could plan my next move, namely lunch. I knew the entrée would be pasta with roasted vegetables, but I needed rolls to accompany the meal. If I went to the store right now, I’d have just enough time to shop and get back for lunch preparations.
I grabbed my purse from the bottom desk drawer and removed a handful of bills from the petty cash container. On my way through the lobby, I stopped to tell Gordon I was taking money to buy lunch ingredients and headed out.
A few minutes later, I pulled into a parking slot in front of The Health Nut. A woman with a full bag exited the store as I went through the door.
Inside, the owner, Jan, was placing money in the cash register. When she saw me, she smiled. “You’re the girl who works with Zennia, right?”
“Right. I’m Dana.”
“How’s she doing? I’ve thought about calling her, but I didn’t want to intrude.”
“She’s hanging in there.”
Jan slid the cash register drawer shut. “I keep meaning to pay Birch’s sister a condolence visit as well, but I’m terrible at handling death, especially a murder. What could I possibly say that would make anyone feel better?”
“You know Olive?” I asked.
“I see her around town every now and again. In fact, I saw her the very morning Birch was killed.”
My eyebrows went up. “Here? In Blossom Valley?”
Before Jan could answer, a guy in a gray work shirt pushed a handcart loaded with cardboard boxes into the store. I internally cursed the interruption as Jan hurried around the counter and went over to greet him.
While she was busy, I walked over to the bread section for the rolls and then browsed the other offerings while I waited for her to finish. When the deliveryman wheeled his load of boxes toward the back, I went up front with my rolls.
Jan was jotting in a ledger, but she looked up as I approached. “All set?”
“Yes. Only the rolls today.”
She rang me up, and I handed her the money. I could faintly hear the guy working in the back.
“You were telling me how you saw Birch’s sister in town the same day he was killed,” I said.
“Was I? That’s right.” She handed me my change. “She was getting coffee at the Daily Grind, same as me. I remember because when I heard Birch had been killed, I wondered if Olive might have sensed bad things were going to happen to him and felt drawn to come into town. You know how they always talk about psychic connections between siblings.”
I stuffed the money in my pocket. “I’ve heard that about twins, not siblings, but it is quite a coincidence that Olive was in Blossom Valley right when Birch was murdered.”
Jan leaned forward and nodded. “Exactly. Like maybe she had a premonition that Birch was in trouble.”
I was thinking more along the lines that Olive found out Birch would be in town that morning and came here to kill him, but I didn’t say as much. “Something like that,” I said instead.
“Of course, Olive lives just outside of town, and I run into her on occasion. I’m sure I’m making a bigger deal out of it than I should.”
“I didn’t realize she lived that close.” I felt my rush of excitement at finding out Olive had been in town crumble like a stale cookie.
The delivery guy came up front with an empty handcart and handed Jan a clipboard. I grabbed my bag of rolls, thanked her, and left. All the while, I was wondering how often Olive came to town for coffee. What were the odds she’d be in town the same morning her brother was murdered there?
Back at the farm, I cut through the lobby and walked down the hall toward the kitchen. As I got closer, I could hear dishes clanking. Maybe Esther had decided to help me with lunch.
I entered the room and stopped. My mouth dropped open.
“Zennia!” I tossed the bag of rolls on the table and rushed over to hug her. “What are you doing here?” I didn’t dare voice what I was hoping she’d say.
She smiled serenely, looking like the Zennia I knew so well. “I believe I’ve finally come to terms with Birch’s death. While I was puttering around my garden this morning, I realized that my place is here in this kitchen. I’ve already let Esther know that I’m back.”
I grabbed her again and squeezed even harder this time. “I’m so glad!” I couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
When I let her go, she said, “You act like I’ve been gone for months. Listen, I can resume my duties whenever you’re ready, but I don’t want to step on your toes if you’ve been enjoying yourself in the kitchen.”
“Are you crazy? You can start right now.”
Zennia grinned. “I had a feeling you’d say that.” She picked up the recipe card for the pasta that I’d left on the table this morning. “Is this what I’ll be making?”
* * *
Now that I only needed to worry about my marketing duties, the rest of the day flew by. I caught up on all the non-critical issues I’d shoved aside once I’d started cooking.
Around four, I went outside to clear my head and say hi to Wilbur. He and the other pigs were soaking up the afternoon sun.
When Wilbur saw me approach, he rose and joined me at the fence, sniffing and snuffling around the rail. I pulled my hand from behind my back and showed him a cluster of grapes.
“For you,” I said as I pulled the grapes off their stems and dropped them inside the pen.
Wilbur snorted his thanks and gobbled up the fruit. When he was finished, he pushed his snout through the split rails in search of more, but I only shrugged. “Don’t want to spoil your dinner.”
With a piggish grunt, Wilbur turned his back on me as my cell phone rang. I pulled the phone from my pocket and answered.
“Hey, babe, how’s my favorite
girl?” Jason said.
I leaned against the top rail. “Not too shabby. I’m just talking to Wilbur.”
“I worry about you sometimes.”
I laughed. “I’d much rather talk to you, if that helps.”
“It does, but seeing you is even better. I’d like to take you to dinner, since you had a rough night last night.”
“Sounds great,” I said. “We can celebrate Zennia’s return to work.”
“Zennia’s back? You must be ecstatic. With that kind of news, I’ll let you pick the restaurant.”
I knew Jason would have let me pick anyway, but suddenly I knew exactly where I wanted to go. “It’s a bit of a drive, but we’ll have after-dinner entertainment, too. You’re a gambler, right?”
“What’s this all about?” Jason asked.
“I’ll tell you on the way over. How does six o’clock work?”
“Fine. Then you can tell me what you have up your sleeve.”
Not patchy elbows, I thought to myself. “You’ll find out.”
We said our good-byes, and I went inside to finish a few items in the office. As I cleaned up my e-mail inbox, my mind was on my plans for the evening. With my attention on Ryan, I’d almost forgotten about Olive as a possible suspect in Birch’s death. Talking to Jan had reminded me that I shouldn’t dismiss Olive so readily.
Tonight, I wanted to find out what role Birch had played in the death of Olive’s husband. And if it was reason enough for Olive to kill him.
Chapter 26
While Jason drove us to the Mighty Eagle Casino for dinner, I filled him in on my conversation with Jan that morning.
Jason kept his eyes on the road as he said, “If Olive lives close to town, it wouldn’t be unusual for her to stop in regularly. Maybe she loves the coffee at the Daily Grind.”
“But Birch was killed early in the morning, and Olive was nearby at the time.”
“She might get up early every day. And that is the time of day most people drink their coffee.”
I watched the towering redwood trees whiz by my window. “But she seemed upset when she mentioned her husband’s death the other day,” I said. “Like her anger is still fresh.”
“Her brother’s murder could have dredged up those old memories.”
“I guess,” I said halfheartedly.
“I’m not trying to discourage you,” Jason said as he eased into a turn. “But being spotted at a restaurant around the same time Birch was killed isn’t much reason to believe she’s the murderer.” He slowed as he neared the casino’s driveway. “You don’t think Olive chased you in the woods, do you?”
“Absolutely not, but you yourself said last night that maybe Birch’s death and my pursuit aren’t related.”
Jason turned into the entrance for the Mighty Eagle. I checked the side mirror and saw more cars turning in behind us. The place probably drew the after-work crowd, along with retirees and chronic gamblers. I wondered how the new casino would impact business.
Most of the front spaces were taken, and Jason parked on the far side of the lot. As we crossed the asphalt, a tour bus motored past. The stench of exhaust fumes filled my nose, a warm-up for the cloud of cigarette smoke I knew awaited me.
The inside of the casino was teeming with gamblers. As I’d expected, a visible haze of smoke hovered near the ceiling. Between that, the constant dinging of the slot machines, and the flashing lights, it was sensory overload.
Jason took my hand, and we made our way to the restaurant. Our progress was accompanied by the occasional celebratory shout from the direction of the card tables and slot machines.
A hostess in a diamond-patterned vest, white dress shirt, and short black skirt greeted us as we approached the restaurant’s entrance. “Table for two?” She grabbed menus and led us across the room. All the while, I cast an eye over the diners and serving staff, but Olive was nowhere to be seen.
The hostess stopped at a table near the back corner, and I chose the seat that faced the dining area to more easily spot Olive. Jason sat down across from me.
“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess said as she handed us our menus.
“Any chance it’ll be Olive?” I asked.
Her penciled eyebrows came together. “I’m pretty sure her shift doesn’t start until seven-thirty, but I can check if you’d like.”
“That’s all right.” No need to draw attention to the fact that I was actively tracking down Olive. She might get spooked.
The hostess left, and a waitress came over to take our drink orders. By the time she’d brought my iced tea and Jason’s glass of red wine, I’d decided on the fettuccine Alfredo while Jason ordered the steak. As we ate, we chatted about our workdays and the latest news.
I was nearing the last few bites of pasta when Olive came into the restaurant. As she passed the entrance, the hostess stopped her and pointed in my direction. I gulped down a noodle and felt it slither all the way to my belly. So much for keeping a low profile.
“Why do you look nervous?” Jason asked. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Olive making her way toward our table. “Is that Olive? I never could get an interview with her.”
She reached us before I could reply. “This is sure a surprise. Renee at the front said you were asking about me.” Her smile faltered.
Gee, thanks, Renee. I hadn’t worked out how I could ask Olive about Birch’s involvement in her husband’s death. I went with the first lie that popped into my head. “I remembered that you worked here and thought I’d say hi.”
“How sweet.”
I motioned to an empty chair. “Won’t you sit down?”
She seemed surprised by the request, but pulled out the chair and sat. “Only for a minute. My shift starts soon.”
I took a sip of iced tea to stall for time, and then asked, “How have you been lately? No ill effects from your fall at the spa?” Gordon would be furious if he knew I’d reminded her of that, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“No, I’m fine. It’ll teach me to watch where I’m going.”
An awkward silence fell over the table until I remembered my manners. “Olive, this is my boyfriend, Jason Forrester. Jason, this is Olive.”
They shook, but Olive didn’t release Jason’s hand. “Forrester . . . are you the one who’s been calling me? The reporter who’s been writing those articles about Birch?”
“Guilty as charged.”
Olive patted his hand and let it go. “I like your articles. You don’t make Birch sound like a nut. A guy from another newspaper described Birch as a nudist hippie pot smoker who liked to talk to butterflies. He had the nerve to ask for an interview.” She clasped her hands on the table. “That’s when I decided not to talk to anyone.”
“Have you been getting a lot of calls regarding Birch’s death?” I asked.
“Not too many. Most of the calls are from gossipers who barely knew Birch, sad as that is. It doesn’t matter that he died. Just that he was murdered.”
“His death matters to the people who cared about him,” Jason said soothingly. “Would you be interested in doing an interview with me, since you know the type of articles I write?”
Olive traced the subtle eagle pattern on the tablecloth. “I’ll have to think about it. Birch and I haven’t always been close, and I might say something I’d regret.”
Recognizing an opening, I leaned toward her. “I remember you said Birch was involved in your husband’s death.”
Olive glanced at Jason before answering me. “I don’t talk about that much.”
I wasn’t sure if she was being vague because she honestly didn’t like to talk about it, or she didn’t want to mention the details in front of a reporter. I caught Jason’s eye and jerked my head slightly to the side, indicating that he should make himself scarce.
He smirked at me, but rose from the table. “Please excuse me. I need to make a phone call.”
As soon as he walked off, I tried again. “You said the other d
ay that Birch’s murder was God’s way of getting him back for your husband’s death. Do you really think the two are connected?”
Olive lifted the salt shaker and swept away errant crystals that had been scattered around the base. “No. I was letting my anger get the best of me. You’d think I’d be over Tony’s death after all this time, but as soon as I heard about Birch, it was like reliving the same nightmare.”
“Does this mean you don’t blame Birch for your husband’s death?” In my peripheral vision, I could see Jason lurking near the hostess stand, but I kept my eyes on Olive.
“Oh no, I do. I just don’t think Tony’s death and Birch’s death have anything to do with each other. Tony and I went up to Oregon to visit Birch for a little vacation, one of many trips we’d made. It should have been a fun and relaxing time, but Birch fell asleep at the wheel and crashed, when he never should have been driving in the first place. He knew he was too tired, but he insisted anyway because he wanted to play host.”
“He must have underestimated how tired he was. It’s hard to judge these things.”
“But Birch was up all night working on a new T-shirt design for his shop. And a few days before the accident, he told me how he’d almost fallen asleep behind the wheel and that he needed to be more careful.” Olive’s scowl grew fierce. “To top it off, he drank a glass of wine that night. Not enough to make him drunk, but wine always made him drowsy. He knew the risks, but not only did he take away Tony’s life, he ruined mine as well.”
I could practically feel the anger radiating off of her. “You must have loved Tony a lot.”
“You bet I did, but there’s more to it. It’s the life we shared. You know, eating out every week, taking a vacation once a year. We weren’t rich, but we managed to get by. Since the day Tony died, there hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t worried about money. I was forced to sell the house we’d bought together when we were first married and move into a tiny trailer. I haven’t taken so much as a weekend getaway in the last four years. And now I find out that this job . . .” She checked her watch and rose. “Speaking of which, I should clock in.”
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