Candy Slain Murder

by Maddie Day

  Marcus a terrorist. As if.

  “Have they said how Beltonia died?” Corrine asked.

  Bingo. I’d been about to ask the same question.

  “They aren’t telling me anything, more’s the pity. I don’t even know why they thought she was murdered and didn’t simply have a cardiac event. She’d had issues with her heart for years. Congenital.”

  “Did your late wife have the same problem?” I asked.

  “No.” He shook his head. “They weren’t identical twins. Her heart was fine. I mean, her cardiac health.” His mouth twisted as if he’d tasted week-old catfish, probably thinking of Kristina’s heart in the sense of love instead of a muscle.

  “How do you think your late wife’s remains got into the attic, Doctor?” I asked.

  Corrine glanced at me as if she’d been about to inquire exactly that. We were quite the team.

  “Like I told the detective, I don’t have the foggiest.” Geller folded his arms on his chest. “I thought she left me. She just disappeared.”

  I tilted my head. “I heard she was afraid of attics.”

  “She was. Some silly thing that happened when she was a child.” He jutted out his chin and squinted at me. “Where did you hear that about her, anyway?”

  Uh-oh. I didn’t want to out Jamie.

  Corrine batted away his suspicions. “Everybody who growed up here knew it.”

  Saved by the bell, or the mayor, as the case may be. Sort of. Geller still stared at me as if he didn’t think I should have known that about his wife.

  I smiled brightly. “We’d better get to our shopping, Corrine. Nice talking with you.”

  He didn’t say a word or smile in return.

  “Merry Christmas, Doc.” Corrine gave him a little wave, took my elbow, and steered us away.

  I glanced back after we’d walked a few steps. His gaze at me was icier than the wind.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “The doc wasn’t over the moon with us asking him questions, there, was he?” Corrine asked as we strolled past a group of high school carolers holding forth in front of a church.

  “He sure wasn’t. Did you really know Kristina was afraid of attics?”

  “No, but I picked up a teensy touch of panic from you, hon.” She gently elbowed me. “We girls gotta support each other.”

  I laughed. “Thank you.”

  “Where’d you learn she was ascared, anyhow?”

  “Jamie Franklin told me Toni locked Kristina in an attic when they were kids. And it freaked Kristina out for the rest of her life. He said she never would have gone up there voluntarily.”

  “Don’t that take the Pillsbury Bake-Off–winning cake, though. So that’s why she hated attics. I never knew that part of the story.” Corrine whistled. “Them two was carrying on, did you know? Jamie and Kristina.”

  “I gathered as much.” I spoke slowly. “Do you think Doctor Geller knew?”

  “Shoot, he musta. Everybody else in town did.”

  Interesting. “Why did she stay with her husband?”

  “I told you she was the sweet, accepting type. She never liked to rock the boat. Plus, Jamie don’t make much money, and Geller, he was rolling in it being the big-cheese doctor and all whatnot. I think the lovebirds was fixing to leave, though, right abouts the time she went missing.”

  In fact, they were about to escape, according to her journal.

  “Now, by rights she shouldn’t have strayed like she did,” Corrine continued. “And young Franklin had no business messing with a married woman. You shoulda heard the gossip around town. I’m not sure how them two walked around with their heads up.”

  “But Geller never confronted them?”

  “Not that I ever saw.”

  We passed a brightly lit flag and banner store. “Corrine, I haven’t talked with you since that lovely dinner with Marcus. I know Danna is thrilled he found your family. How are you feeling about it?”

  She moseyed in silence for a moment. “I’m glad, of course. It sure brings up a boatload of old emotions I haven’t had to deal with in a quarter century.”

  “I can guess. I’m sure it’s not easy. How’s Josie doing with him being in contact?”

  “Ma’s happy I sorta kinda have him back, however that shakes out. She was real supportive of my decision when I got myself pregnant. She’d offered to help me raise the child, but I knew it would have put a big old burden on her shoulders, and I was mostly all growed up by then. I knew he’d have a good full life adopted by two parents who wanted him, and it sounds like he did.”

  A good full life plus an issue with his temper, but I didn’t need to bring that up with Corrine.

  She pointed at a swingy rainbow-colored dress in the window of a women’s clothing shop. “Ooh, would ya get a gander of that piece of pretty? Wouldn’t it be perfect on my girl?”

  “It would.” The garment was exactly Danna’s style. We entered into warm, fragrant air, and it wasn’t from scented candles, thank goodness. “Something smells great.”

  Corrine pointed at a round table. The staff was offering hot mulled wine and gingerbread women cookies, so we both accepted a half cupful and a sweet. As I sipped and munched, I lingered over an array of locally made earrings, finally picking out a dangling silver pair perfect for Adele. Corrine bought the dress and a scarf to match. Once we emerged onto the sidewalk with our purchases in tissue-paper-stuffed bags, a woman down the block hailed Corrine.

  “Why, if it ain’t my old girlfriend from law school!” Corrine waved back. “Robbie, you want I should introduce you two?”

  “Thanks, but I need to look for one more thing and then head home. Have a fun visit.”

  “You take care, now.” She lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t go anywhere alone with Doc Geller in the near future, if you get my drift.”

  “Girl Scout’s honor.” I held up my right hand with the first three fingers glued together, thumb folded over pinky.

  She headed for her friend and I moved along, wondering what perfect gift I could find for Abe. Instead I found myself in front of the Covered Bridge Bazaar where I’d visited Shirley earlier this week. Or maybe it had been only yesterday. I doubted Abe would want any country-cute items but headed in, anyway. I could always look at stocking stuffers and maybe have a chat with Shirley, too.

  This store had a table of cheese and crackers out for the taking, as well as little paper cups of cider and white wine, but the buzz of my taste of mulled wine was still with me. I moved past. Shirley didn’t seem to be here, though. An older woman came out from behind the counter.

  “Merry Christmas.” She smiled. “Help yourself to refreshments.”

  “Thanks, but I’m good. Could you tell me if Shirley Csik is working tonight?”

  The smile slid off the woman’s face. “No, but I’m the proprietor. Can I help you find something?”

  “I’ll just poke around. I own a country store and restaurant in South Lick, myself.” The shop appeared to be empty except for us.

  “Pans ’N Pancakes? Your reputation precedes you, Ms. Jordan.” She stuck out her hand and introduced herself.

  I shook. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Shirley was supposed to be in today but didn’t show.”

  I blinked. “That’s too bad. She didn’t call in sick?”

  “She did not. Weekends from now until Christmas are our busiest times.” The set of her mouth reflected her displeasure.

  Did she know about Shirley being questioned in Toni’s death? “It’s sad about her landlady’s death, isn’t it?”

  The shopkeeper shook her head with her lips pressed together, then glanced around and lowered her voice. “Shirley isn’t too broken up about it. I can tell you, that woman treated her badly, and Shirley hated her for it.”

  “Do you know in what ways?” I picked up a carved wooden ornament of a covered bridge and turned it in my fingers, keeping my tone casual.

  “Toni Franklin was a b—a witch of the highest orde
r. Why, Shirley’s apartment was literally falling down around her and the skinflint owner didn’t lift a dang finger to fix things, may she rest in peace.”

  “Why didn’t Shirley find somewhere else to live?” I asked.

  “Can’t find cheaper rent than she had. And Shirley, bless her heart, funnels most of her money to her poor addled brother in prison.”

  “I’d heard something about that. What a shame. I wonder if she’ll have to move now.”

  “She said she has no idea what’s going to happen to the place.”

  A group of gawky teen boys slouched into the store, pausing at the refreshments table. “Only the cider, boys,” she called to them. “Excuse me. Gotta keep an eye on these rascals.”

  I walked out after having purchased the ornament a few minutes later. Abe’s mom, who collected ornaments like others collected signed baseballs or first-edition books, would love it. Unfortunately, I hadn’t really collected any new information except that the intensity of Shirley’s feelings toward Toni were more extreme than I’d heard. And that the whole town had known of Kristina and Jamie’s attraction to one another.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I’d parked at the end of a side street. Returning to my car alone, now after sunset, I wished I’d opted for the well-lit public lot, instead. This narrow residential way wasn’t equipped with streetlights, and the modest homes lining it hadn’t opted for festive Christmas lights, either. One house had five junked cars on the property, three slumping on the front lawn and two on the gravel driveway. A dim light in a listing garage illuminated a broken window, but the house itself was dark.

  Shivering—and not only from the cold—I hurried to my little Prius parked along the edge of a dark and abandoned park at the street’s terminus. Eerie woods lay beyond. The lights and cheer of the Nashville Christmas Shop Local evening seemed a hundred miles and years away.

  I held my keys in my left hand but felt for my phone in my right coat pocket. I was about to pull it out and hit the flashlight icon when a crack sounded from nearby. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the sting of a fired round at the same time as my heart raced faster than a twin-turbo-charged IndyCar. When no pain came, I broke into a sprint. The noise could have merely been a squirrel burrowing for one last acorn to add to the winter stash. I wasn’t taking any chances. I thought I heard another noise close behind me between the thuds of my own footsteps.

  The toe of my boot caught on a crack. I cried out as I went flying. I grasped at air. My gloved hands encountered the side of my car and slid down, but the vehicle broke my momentum. I scrambled up and hit the Unlock button on the key fob. I’d never inserted a key and driven away so fast in my life, pulling a tire-squealing U-turn.

  I reached a streetlight and paused at the stop sign long enough to lock the doors and fasten my seat belt. Had someone really been after me? Or was it the fear of the unapprehended killer—or two—walking around that had spooked me? I blew out a breath.

  The shortcut back to South Lick wound along a dark country lane. I opted for the slightly longer state route. Between the towns, cars came toward me and sped past regularly, but I seemed to be the only vehicle driving in this direction. Now calmed down, I laughed out loud at how jittery I’d been, but sobered when I realized my nerves came out of experience. Bad guys had pursued me before. It was only prudent to be careful and not do stupid things while alone like park on a street that would be dark after sunset. My defense, that I hadn’t thought about such things while a winter sun shone, was a weak one.

  A car had come up behind me while I was musing about danger. An intense white light nearly blinded me when I checked my side mirror. What was with people and their super-strong headlights? I was happy with my small energy-efficient car. Big honking SUVs and pickup trucks ruled the road around here, and because they were bigger vehicles, their lights shined straight into my eyes. This driver had flipped on the high beams, too. I scrunched down and forward to avoid getting night blindness from the rear-view mirror.

  My hands turned cold as they gripped the wheel tighter than they had to. What if the person who had chased me was now tailing me? I let out an obscenity that would have turned Adele’s cheeks red and caused her to scold me up one side and down the other. Were there any ditches on my side of the road to worry about? I pressed down on the accelerator. The headlights followed suit. My heart kept pace. How far did I have to go? Half a mile? A quarter mile? Let me get there safely. Or spy a South Lick police car.

  The bright lights of the grocery store parking lot at the edge of town had never looked so welcoming. I slowed and swerved in. My tail blessedly drove past with only a loud blare of the horn. I hovered in the no-parking zone near the market’s door for a moment, surveying both of the lot’s entrances. No big vehicles pulled in and searched for me. As far as I could tell, I’d once again let my fears override my confidence.

  I exhaled and pointed the Prius toward home three blocks away. The sooner Octavia caught Toni’s killer, the sooner I could toss this tension in the trash.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Breakfast prep completed and personal hygiene achieved, I made it over to Abe’s by seven that evening without a single blinding, tailgating pursuer. I walked into a cottage redolent with smells of seafood, fresh bread, and chocolate. I’d tucked black stretch pants into my turquoise cowboy boots and my tunic length sweater was in the same hue. I loved the feeling of my hair loose on my shoulders, and I knew Abe did, too.

  I spied him at the stove. His Hoosier cottage featured a wide arched passageway from the living room into a dining room. He’d taken down the wall beyond, so the kitchen was now open to the other rooms. He liked to cook for others and had said it didn’t make sense to do it in isolation.

  “I think I just arrived in heaven.” I bestowed a kiss on his newly bearded cheek. I rubbed the soft curly growth with my hand. “I like this beard thing, you know.”

  “Good. It’s easier, and actually warmer for the winter.” He finished stirring a big blue pot of deliciousness and set the lid on. “And if this is heaven, I get more of a kiss than that.”

  I threw my arms around his neck and obliged, with the kiss lasting way longer than it ever could in public. “Mmmm,” I murmured, my cheeks suddenly hot. My stomach burbled its empty status of its own accord.

  He gave me a fond, crinkly-eye look. “Mmm is right, but I know not to get in the way of Robbie Jordan and her dinner.” He nudged me toward the refrigerator. “If you can pop the cork on the pinot grigio in there, I’ll serve up the grub.”

  Two minutes later we sat at right angles to each other. He’d set two wide bowls on brightly colored placemats. The bowls brimmed with a tomato-based seafood stew. A basket of warm crusty bread was calling my name, and a wooden salad bowl stood full and ready for later. I lifted my wineglass.

  “To my very most favorite chef,” I said.

  “And to mine.”

  We clinked and sipped. I tasted the thick, rich stew, savoring it on my tongue, then poked around in the bowl.

  “Absolutely to die for, Abe. The trinity, plus carrots. Fish and shrimp. A hint of hot. Fresh dill. And . . . and what? The flavor is incredible.”

  “Thanks, and you’re almost there. Haddock, salmon, and catfish, because they all add their own flavors. A few drops of habanero sauce. What I think you picked up on is a couple tablespoons of the basil pesto I made and froze last summer.”

  I pointed at him. “That’s it. What a combo.” I buttered a hunk of bread. “Smells like you made this, too.”

  He cast his eyes to the ceiling. “Can I plead the Fifth?”

  “What, is it from Buddy’s Breads?” A new artisanal bakery had opened in South Lick recently. “I promise not to tell.”

  “Hey, I warmed it all by myself. That should count for something.”

  The chewy, crusty loaf was nearly as perfect as the soup. I smiled around my mouthful. We proceeded to update each other on our days as we ate and drank. I didn’t mention murde
r once, and left telling him about my fears that I’d been pursued for another time.

  “Dessert on the couch?” he asked forty-five minutes later.

  “If I can waddle that far.” I helped clear and rinse until Abe told me to go relax.

  Snuggled on the couch side by side, our feet up on a homemade wooden coffee table, we nibbled at ramekins full of a deep, rich chocolate mousse topped with a dollop of whipped cream. After I finished, I stroked my left palm.

  “Something wrong with your hand?” Abe asked. He took it and bestowed a kiss on the palm.

  “I think it’s a little bruised.”

  “Flip too many burgers today?”

  “No. But I had a bit of a scare before I came over. Two scares, actually.” I related what had happened—or what I thought had happened—as I’d walked to my car.

  “The public lot is well lit, you know, sugar,” he said gently.

  “I know. I was trying to save a buck, because the free lots were full. Silly of me. And then, as I drove back to South Lick, it felt like a car was after me, too. High beams, riding my bumper even when I sped up, the works. At least I took the state route and not the back roads.”

  “Did you see what kind of vehicle it was?” He slung his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder. “I hope whoever it was didn’t follow you home.”

  “No to both. I pulled into the market parking lot and the car kept on going. It was dark out, and I was rattled, so all I know is the vehicle was big and had bright lights.”

  “Did you learn anything new today about the investigations?”

  I yawned. “It was a pretty full day. I heard a lot, but not necessarily from the police.” I stared at the dark night above the café curtains Abe had pulled shut. “Abe, do you know Clive Colton?”

  “Not well, but I know him. He’s worked on construction sites where I’ve run a new service from the street before. Always seemed like a good guy, although I’m not sure how good a plumber he is. Why?”