Candy Slain Murder

by Maddie Day

  I poured out Adele’s omelet and laid three strips of bacon next to it. “How was your visit with Marcus yesterday?” I asked. I hadn’t had a chance to ask her earlier.

  “So awesome. We went for a walk in the state park.”

  Which was sparsely populated with visitors at this time of year. I mentally let out a breath of relief. Marcus had clearly not attacked Danna or anything, but he was in essence a stranger.

  “Can you believe I actually have a brother?” She smiled to herself, leaning against the counter. “And speaking of that, Mom and I are having him over for dinner tonight and want you and Abe to come, too. Can you? Josie is going to be there. She’s his grandma, too, after all.” Danna stuffed some feta, a few olives, and a slice of tomato into a half pita and took a big bite.

  I thought. “I’m free, for sure. I’ll check with Abe and let you know, okay?” I’d first met Corrine’s mother a year ago and had liked her a lot. A type A seventy-year-old who still ran her own consulting business, Josephine Dunn had provided a key piece of eyewitness information in a murder investigation.

  “Great.”

  Turner approached with a tray full of dirty dishes. “I can’t believe how busy we are.” His thick dark hair was mussed, even though he wore it short, and one acne-scarred cheek had a smudge of ketchup on it.

  “You look pooped, Turner,” Danna said. “Let me finish this and do a high-speed trip to the you-know-where, and you can break, okay?” She popped in the last bite of her sandwich.

  “Thanks.” His shoulders relaxed.

  “That won’t be much of a break, Danna,” I said.

  She batted away the thought. “I’m solid.” She headed for the ladies’ room.

  I loved my employees and the way we all took care of each other.

  “I mean, I know this is great for the business, Robbie, but wow.” Turner blew out a breath. “We almost need a fourth person for the holidays.”

  “I know, to take care of retail.” I sprinkled feta and olives on Adele’s omelet and folded it over. The other three outstanding orders were ready, too, so I slid everything onto four plates. “We’re caught up for the moment. Sit down and I’ll deliver these.”

  “Thanks.” Turner plopped onto a chair.

  After I delivered the other three plates, I took Adele’s to her table.

  She looked relaxed, knitting something out of a soft-looking green yarn. When she saw me, she stuffed it into the bag at her feet.

  “Boy howdy, that looks good, hon.” She glanced at the door when the bell jangled. “Why, if it isn’t Clive Colton himself.”

  A thickset man not much taller than me entered and glanced around. He wore workman’s jeans and boots and had a square head covered with a fuzz of thinning blond hair.

  “He’s been in before a few times,” I said.

  “He’s Beltonia Franklin’s husband. You didn’t know that?”

  “I didn’t. So she remarried.” South Lick had a whopping population of about seven hundred, but I’d only lived here a couple of years. I was always learning new bits about the local residents.

  “Indeed she did, but it’s common knowledge they aren’t getting on so good lately. Fact, I think he moved out last month.” She waved her hand at him. “Yo, Clive. Come on over here and set with me.”

  He wove his way through the tables. “Thanks, Adele. Good morning, Miss,” he added, smiling at me. His cheeks were ruddy in a way that made me think he might make a habit of hitting the booze hard after work.

  “I’m Robbie Jordan. Welcome. I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “Clive Colton, Miss.” He held out a beefy hand.

  I shook it, the palm thick and callused. “Please have a seat. You and Adele clearly know each other.”

  “We go a fair ways back,” Adele agreed. “And you two have a lot in common, Robbie. Clive here is a plumber. Can fix near about anything that has water going through it. Clive, my niece Robbie is a skilled carpenter, learned the art from my late sister, who was a cabinetmaker and creator of fine furniture.”

  Clive’s smile split his broad face. “Couple of girl woodworkers. I like it.”

  My mom had been an artisan, not a girl woodworker, but I let the comment pass. I knew Clive didn’t mean any harm. “Coffee?” I asked him.

  “I’d appreciate that. I don’t have long before I have to get back to the job site. Could I get two fried over easy with biscuits and gravy and a double order of sausages, please?”

  “Coming right up. Toast too?”

  “Yes, white, if you’ve got it, with extra butter.”

  “You got it.” I scribbled the order and took it to the grill.

  On my way back to the table with the coffee, the doorbell jangled again. This time it was Buck. Back for lunch so soon? He surveyed the restaurant. As I watched, his gaze landed on Clive and his expression turned to dead serious. Uh-oh. Something was afoot, to paraphrase Shakespeare. I arrived at Adele’s table at the same time as Buck.

  He held his hat in his hand. “Clive, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Clive looked up at him, blinking. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s no easy way to say this.” Buck spoke in a low tone. “I’m very sorry, but Toni has been found dead.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Adele frowned. My eyes widened. Clive’s mouth dropped open and the color went out of his face.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice rising. “How? When? She can’t be dead. I mean . . .” His voice trailed off.

  Buck laid his hand on Clive’s shoulder. “Her housecleaner found her not an hour ago.”

  “But she’s so healthy,” Clive murmured. “She’s always doing karate and such. She’s not a fat slob like me.”

  Buck cleared his throat. “It’s possible her death was not a natural one.”

  No. Not another homicide. Poor Toni. Nobody deserved such an end. But why would they think that?

  “We have some questions we need to ask you,” Buck went on.

  Clive stared at him. “What do you mean?” He sounded bewildered. As he stared, light appeared to dawn. He struggled to his feet. “If it wasn’t natural, that means someone upped and kilt her?” He spoke in a harsh whisper.

  “That is one possibility,” Buck said.

  Adele and I exchanged a glance. Turner emerged from the restroom. After he caught sight of our group, he frowned and hurried to the grill to confer with Danna, who had taken over cooking while she watched the proceedings. Some customers ate and chatted, but several locals were paying close attention.

  “And you think because we’d separated that I did it,” Clive said, his tone bitter. “She wasn’t nice to me. She insulted me and kicked me out of the house last month. But I loved Toni, warts and all. I would never in any lifetime lift a finger against her or any other woman.” He raised his chin.

  “Now, Clive.” Adele patted his arm. “Nobody said you did. Buck wants to ask you a couple few questions, that’s all.”

  Turner arrived at the table with Clive’s hearty artery-clogging breakfast and shot me an inquiring glance.

  “Can I at least eat?” Clive asked Buck.

  Buck turned his hat in his hands. “Well, now—”

  Clive interrupted him. “Never mind. I’m not hungry. Let’s get this over with.” He grabbed the jacket he’d slung over the back of his seat. “Sorry, Ms. Jordan.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Colton.”

  Adele stood. “As am I. Don’t you worry, now. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  Mute, Clive preceded Buck out the door.

  “Whoee, don’t this just beat the band,” Adele muttered, watching them go. “One sister’s skeleton found ten years after the fact, and her twin knocked off two days later. Buck and Oscar are going to have their hands plum full.”

  I shook my head. “Oscar’s on another case. Octavia is back, investigating the remains in Doctor Geller’s attic. I imagin
e she’ll take on this one, too.”

  Adele looked straight into my soul. “You okay with her being in town, darlin’?”

  “Yes. I have to be, don’t I? Turner, why don’t you take that order back to the kitchen? One of us can eat it, or we can toss it.”

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ll down the eggs and toast right now.”

  “Good.” I smiled at my vegetarian helper.

  “I don’t mind helping out with them sausages,” Adele offered. “I never mind extra meat in my diet. I live for the stuff.”

  “They’re yours.” Turner slid them onto her plate and headed back for the kitchen area.

  Adele sat again. “Some news. No shortage of folks Toni rubbed wrong, that’s for sure.”

  I glanced around. Things seemed under control, so I sat, too. “Jamie and Clive for starters, right?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Abe told me Toni’s tenant wasn’t very happy with her, either.”

  “Shirley Csik.” Adele nodded, setting the tiny silver bells on her dangling earrings to tinkling. “She used to be a soccer star around here. Strong girl.”

  I set my chin on my hand. “I wonder how Toni died. Why do they think it might have been a homicide and not a heart attack or something?”

  “She was youngish. Don’t they have to investigate when somebody who ain’t old ups and dies?”

  “I suppose so. Did Toni ever have children?” Who would grieve for her besides Clive?

  “No,” Adele said as if it was a silly suggestion. “First off, I doubt old Tug coulda provided her with the necessary ingredient, if you catch my drift. He was already old and sick when they tied the knot.” She snickered. “Plus, Toni wasn’t exactly the maternal type, may she rest in peace.”

  “Ms. Jordan,” a customer called to me.

  “Enjoy your meal, Adele, if you can.” I stood.

  “Me?” she scoffed. “I can always eat.”

  “Did Buck just arrest Mr. Colton?” the woman two tables away asked me when I got there. The local’s eyes were wide and her expression excited. The woman sitting opposite her looked eager for dirt, too.

  Down, ladies. “No. There was an unfortunate incident earlier and Buck needed to ask him some questions.”

  “What was the incident? Did somebody die?”

  Her friend picked up the thread. “Buck looked super serious when he took Clive away.”

  “I don’t know the details, but I’m sure it will be in the news later on today.” I plastered on a smile. “Can I clear those dishes for you?”

  People could be awfully morbid. How could anyone get excited about someone dying?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The restaurant was abuzz with the news as the true lunch rush set in. We didn’t have a lot of tourists on an early December Thursday—they would show up on the weekend—and word had spread fast among the locals. Because my reputation for working on past homicides preceded me, I was pestered with questions.

  “I heared Beltonia was murdered in cold blood in her bed this morning,” an older gentleman said when I delivered his hamburger—well done, no lettuce, extra sauce—and chicken soup.

  “Did you? I’m sure the authorities are on the case.” I smiled and turned away before he could ask me for details.

  One of my chess-playing regulars beckoned me over. “Are you helping the detective on this one, Robbie?” she asked. “Poor old Toni. She never could get a break, and took it out on everybody but old Tug.”

  “I’m not involved. More coffee?” I wanted to ask what she meant by “a break” but really didn’t want to engage in speculation, plus all three of us were flat out simply trying to run the place.

  At around a quarter to one, Shirley Csik came in. A two-top had vacated, and Turner had cleared it. No one else was waiting, so after I wiped down the table, I beckoned her over. With dark hair pulled back in a thick ponytail, she was shorter and more trim than me and walked with a fluid grace like the athlete she’d been. For all I knew, she still played soccer or some other sport in an adult league. We’d never gotten to know each other during her occasional visits for breakfast or lunch.

  She greeted me and sank into the chair. The buzz quieted around us. Shirley cast her gaze right and left. “Why are people staring at me?” she asked in a low voice, pretending to study the menu.

  “I guess you haven’t heard the news.”

  She looked up. “What news? I’ve been in Nashville all morning at the gift shop where I work.”

  “Your landlady was found dead this morning.”

  Shirley’s breath rushed in with a rasp. “Toni?”

  I bobbed my head.

  “That’s terrible. The poor thing.” She brought her hand to her mouth, but looked more pensive than sad. She blinked. “Do you know how she died?”

  “I don’t.”

  “She seemed too young and healthy to have a heart attack,” she said. “It must have been some undiagnosed weakness.”

  “You must have known her well, living on the other side of the house.”

  “You’re Robbie, right?”

  “Yes.”

  She frowned and cocked her head. “How do you know where I live?”

  “Abe O’Neill is my boyfriend. We were talking about Toni because it’s possible her sister’s remains finally turned up, and he mentioned you in passing.”

  The suspicious cast went out of her expression. “Abe’s a sweetheart. Always has been. Lucky you to snag him.”

  “Thanks. He’s the best. So you didn’t hear anything odd this morning from Toni’s side of the house?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. Like a thud if she fell or something?” Or a cry of protest, a struggle, anything to indicate a violent death, but I couldn’t say that to her.

  She shuddered. “That would be an awful thing to hear. Anyway, no, I didn’t. It’s a crappy building—or at least my side is—but it actually has pretty good soundproofing between the two halves.”

  “I see. Well, can I get you some lunch?”

  “A turkey burger with no bun, please, a side of sausages, and a chocolate milk.”

  I jotted down the order. “Coming right up.” I headed for the kitchen area where Turner had taken over on the grill. Danna was at the sink.

  “Danna, let me know what I can bring tonight, okay?” I pointed to her. “Oh, and Abe texted me that he can come, too.”

  “Bring a bottle of white wine and yourselves,” she said. “Mom and I have a menu all planned.”

  “Cool. Will do.” The doorbell sounded, signaling a hungry-looking Buck’s return. Of course, he always looked hungry. I gave Turner Shirley’s order and made my way to Buck, checking for an empty table as I went. He was going to have to stay hungry a little while longer.

  “Hey, Buck. Sorry, every table is full.”

  “I am plum starvational. Took me this long to deliver Colton to Octavia. The man did not want to talk.”

  “He just lost his wife and he seemed to be genuinely broken up about her death. What did you expect?”

  “All right, I’ll grant you that.” He glanced at the full restaurant. “Got anybody fixing to leave soon?”

  “That table of four might be.” I gestured with my chin. “Or I can pack up a takeout lunch for you.”

  “I need to set my bones down and be out of the station for a piece. I can wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “Say, is that Shirley Csik back there at my usual spot?”

  True. The two-top I’d sat her at was Buck’s preferred seat, because it was at the far end and next to the wall. He always liked to have a view of the entire restaurant while he ate. I sometimes felt like Pans ’N Pancakes was his second office.

  “Yes, that’s Shirley. She came in a couple minutes ago.” I lowered my voice. “And she hadn’t heard about Toni’s death. I gotta tell you, she didn’t seem too broken up about it when I let her in on the news.”

  Buck scratched his chin. “She didn’t, huh? Interesting. She�
�s on my list of folks to interview. Maybe I’ll go see if she wants to share the table.”

  “Buck, no.” I grabbed his sleeve. “You’re not going to grill her in my restaurant while she’s eating. She came in for a nice quiet lunch and she’s going to get it. Nab her on her way out if you want, but I can’t have my customers disturbed during a meal like you did with Clive. Unless you’re going to arrest her?”

  “No arrest, Robbie. But all righty, I’ll be a good doobie and bide my time.”

  That sounded ominous, but worrying about it would be as useless as two buggies in a one-horse town, to quote Adele.

  Chapter Fifteen

  By one-thirty things were marginally quieter. Shirley had finished her carb-free lunch and sat reading something on her tablet. I cleared her dishes.

  “Is it okay if I occupy the table a little longer?” she asked.

  “It’s fine. Nobody’s waiting and the lunch rush is over. Take your time. Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, thanks.”

  I handed her the check, then moseyed over to Buck, who had basically inhaled a double bacon cheeseburger and a mound of ruffled potato chips. Only a forlorn shred of tomato and one crispy chip crumb remained on his plate. He was on the last bite of his second brownie, but his gaze was on Shirley.

  He spoke in a low voice. “I’m going to talk to her now, Robbie, so please don’t obstruct the law.”

  “I guess I can’t stop you.” I watched as he unfolded his extra-tall frame and went hat in hand to Shirley’s table.

  She glanced up at him and stashed her tablet in her bag. So much for leisurely reading. The table next to hers happened to need clearing, and if I could do a little listening, too, well, it was my restaurant. I headed in that direction.

  “Yes, I know who you are, Lieutenant.” Shirley stood. “What can I help you with?”

  “I have a couple few questions for you regarding the demise of your landlady, Beltonia Franklin.”

  Shirley caught sight of me. “Robbie told me after I came in that Toni had died. It’s terribly sad. I don’t know how I can help you.”

  “Welp, I need to clarify a few little small things. Would you like to set down and talk here or come on over to the station?”