I sneezed twice as I entered and my sensitive nose was assaulted with stale air and a hint of decay. The items inside, the tufted armchairs, lace up boots, porcelain doll and the creepy stuffed owl and crow still stood in place, but each item was slowly fading into oblivion. The moist, coastal fog that often enveloped the entire town, Hawksworth site included, was not ideal for preserving century old relics. The items inside Bertram's personal chest were much more preserved. They were the focus of my visit.
I dropped to my knees and fished around for the hidden key. It was still in its secret compartment. Lola's knowledge about old trunks and chests had helped me locate the hidden key. Naturally, I kept the secret to myself. The trunk was like my own personal museum, a treasure trove of Bertram Hawksworth's personal belongings, including the love letters from Button, aka Jane Price.
I opened the lock and lifted the lid. I reached straight inside for the account ledger. It had provided me with some good evidence or, at least, what I perceived as good evidence. Aside from her temporary position as town treasurer, Jane Price had also kept up the Hawksworth accounts. It was that connection, I'd drummed up in my romantic imagination, that had thrown the two together into a secret love affair. I'd also deduced that a mysterious monthly entry of seventy-three dollars, a significant amount back then, was being paid to his pregnant mistress.
I skimmed through the brittle pages to see if anything jumped out at me. My finger smoothed down to the scribbled note at the bottom of one of the pages next to Bertram's signature. The writing matched the signature, so it was definitely written by him. I'd read it once before, but it was so cryptic it just didn't make sense. "If I'm dead, raven knows all. B.H." I read to myself. "But who is raven?"
I sat back on my bottom and stared at the strange message. "Darn, why so mysterious, Mr. Hawksworth?"
A noise, most likely the wind, but also, given where I was sitting, possibly a mouse, startled me. That thought sent me straight to my feet. I glanced around in case something creepy and crawly had stopped inside the museum for a brief tour or to gnaw on an old chair. A large, overly dramatic gasp followed as a moth fluttered out from behind the stuffed birds. I waved my hands to make sure the moth didn't land in my hair. After a few seconds of frantic arm swinging, the moth headed toward the sunlight outside the shed.
My stomach growled so loudly the sound nearly echoed off the walls. I pressed my arm against it. "All right, all right, enough of the investigation. Let's go eat." As I spun around, something brilliant occurred to me. I snapped my attention back to the shelf where the moth had just leapt out of like the monstrous bug it was. I walked closer to the stuffed birds with their glassy eyes and dusty feathers. I stared up at the crow. Or that was what I'd thought it was, only I should have known better.
"Why, you're not a crow at all, are you? You're a raven."
I mentally had to tamp down my excitement. It felt as if I'd found a big piece of the puzzle but then what on earth could a stuffed raven tell me? What if I was entirely off base? Stuffed creatures were never a favorite of mine. I always hated the taxidermy animals behind the glass cases at the museum. They were creepy, like looking at well preserved mummies. However, I would never forgive myself if I didn't at least inspect the raven for some kind of message or note.
I held a deep breath, mostly to avoid sucking in the dust that was clinging to the feathers as I pulled the raven closer to the edge of the ledge. A shiver went through me as the glass eyes vibrated with the movement. The whole thing would probably have been less eerie if I didn't live with a very much alive crow.
The raven was positioned on a square of marble. I turned the marble around and checked the bird from every angle. Nothing was out of place. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for, which made the task that much harder. The final place to look was on the base of the marble stand. The whole thing was heavier than I expected as I tipped the bird over to get a look at his underside. I nearly lost hold of the raven when I spotted a piece of yellowed parchment fastened to the base with red sealing wax.
My phone rang, startling me. The bird slipped from my hold, but I managed to keep it on the shelf. It was Ryder.
"Hello." I was slightly breathless from the excitement.
I could hear numerous voices in the background. "Hey, boss, hate to cut your lunch short, but it seems everyone in Port Danby decided they needed flowers today."
I stared up at the raven. He seemed to be scowling at me for nearly dropping him off his perch. The note would have to wait. So would my tummy. Fortunately, I worked right next to a bakery. One of Elsie's almond croissants would get me through the day.
"I'm heading back right now."
Chapter 17
The sudden rush to buy flowers ended as quickly as it started. Ryder bought a sandwich at Corner Market but brought it back to eat in the shop. He was not entirely himself, which was understandable given the silent treatment from Lola. The woman had self-control, I'd give her that. She'd been so anxious for Ryder's return, and now that he was back, it had to be taking all of her willpower to not see him. I only hoped the self-denial shield would crack soon so Ryder could feel better.
Ryder sat at the work island with his lunch. Other than Kingston, who was deep in a bird nap, the store was empty.
"Ryder, I'm going to pop over to Elsie's and get a croissant. I didn't actually get a chance to eat on my break."
His face popped up from his chicken salad sandwich. "Oh wow, I shouldn't have called you back. I feel sort of dumb about it, considering the parade of customers stopped just after you walked back in."
"No, don't feel badly. It was my fault I didn't get a chance to eat. I was gone for plenty of time, which I spent inside the dank, dark Hawksworth museum."
"Aha, so you were investigating a murder. That makes sense. When you have time, you'll have to fill me in on everything you learned while I was away."
"It would be my pleasure. It's all quite scandalous, and it has to do with the Price family too. Be right back." I headed around to Elsie's table area and was once against stopped on my quest to appease my empty belly by a murder investigation. This one far more current though.
Cody, the Taco Brothers marketer, was sitting at a table happily devouring a slice of Elsie's carrot cake. He didn't seem terribly distraught about what had happened. In his defense, Elsie's bakery goods were known to temporarily drive away any blues and despair. Since I was not going to have any access to witnesses and interviews, I decided to take advantage of the situation.
"Hello, you're a member of the Taco Brothers crew, aren't you?" I asked.
He clumsily wiped his mouth and hand. "Yeah, Cody Long, the marketer. But I'm sorry to say the truck isn't open today."
"I know." I paused and put on a properly sympathetic expression. "I was the woman who found Rico last night."
He wiped stringy strands of hair from his forehead. "No way. Are you really? I heard some lady tried to give him CPR." He pointed at me. "Was that you?"
I nodded. "I'm sorry I couldn't save your friend." My words seemed to remind him that he should be feeling glum. His bony shoulders caved forward and his face drooped.
"Yeah, still can't believe Rico's dead. Don't know how it could have happened. The police thought it was an accident, but this morning, they switched it to a murder investigation." He shook his head and picked a tiny corner off his cake. "This is the best cake I've ever eaten," he commented before returning to his sullen posture and expression.
"Yes, Elsie is the best baker I know. You mentioned they're treating it as a murder. Any idea who might have wanted him dead? After all, you guys are new to this area. You probably don't know many people."
He swallowed another bite of cake. "No idea. I mean the brothers were always fighting but then who doesn't fight with their siblings. And I think Vince was finally over the whole Angel thing." His fork plowed forward for another bite.
"The Angel thing?" I prodded. I was always thrilled when I found a witness who was willi
ng to talk freely and openly about other people. Of course, I had to remind myself that Cody, himself, might be the killer.
"Yeah, Angel started out being with Vince. They dated a couple years, then Angel broke it off and took up with Rico." He took a bite and shook his head as he ate it. "Vince didn't talk to Rico for a year. Then the taco truck idea took hold, and they sort of put aside their differences. Rico and Angel eventually married, so she became a business partner. Vince wasn't too happy about that, but what could he do? I mean, once they were married, Angel was part of the family, whether he liked it or not."
Elsie poked her head out the door. "I just made a fresh batch of banana muffins."
I tapped my nose. "I know and my mouth is watering. I'll be right in."
She glanced at my chat mate and furrowed her brows in confusion before turning back into the bakery.
I turned back to Cody. He was on the last few bites, so I was about to lose him. I had to work quickly. "Does Angel work for the business, or is she just a partner on paper?"
Cody made a scoffing sound. "If you can call what she does work. (A gossipy, free talking interviewee was the best kind.) She took over the finances, but she doesn't know anything about it. She worked as a hair stylist before the taco truck. Blow drying hair doesn't exactly give you financial expertise."
"No, I suppose not."
"I mean, I had marketing experience, so it made sense that they hired me to run that part of the business." He didn't elaborate on just what that experience was, but something told me it wasn't much more than having some knowledge of social media, which didn't exactly set him apart from billions of other people. I also knew that the brothers weren't all that pleased with his performance.
"Vince was trying to get Rico to replace Angel. He wasn't happy with the job she was doing, but Rico wasn't about to let her go. Guess she had what they call family immunity." He crumpled up his paper plate. "Must be nice for her," he said with a good dose of derision.
He stood up.
"I suppose they'll be packing up the truck and leaving town soon," I said as he tossed his paper plate.
"Probably not. Vince has to take a day or two to let family know and all that stuff, but he said he couldn't afford to close the truck down. He owes the bank and all that."
"Makes sense but it's a shame he doesn't have time to grieve for his brother."
Cody didn't try to hide a wry smile. "Don't think he'd take much time to do that anyhow. Nice talking to you."
"Yes, you too."
He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away.
I stepped into a plume of banana aroma. "I'll take two."
Elsie picked up a paper plate. "Who was that guy?"
"He's part of the Taco Brothers crew."
"I heard one of them died last night." Elsie plopped two steaming, plump muffins on the plate. "Franki won't be too sad about that. Customers were telling me that she really blew up at them. Guess she was pretty upset about a sign or something."
"Yes and rightfully so. The sign lied about the quality of her food. That guy, the carrot cake eater, was the one who wrote it. Fancies himself as a marketer."
"Must be pretty good," she said. "I saw a line around the whole square waiting for those tacos." She paused and her head turned up in thought. "I wonder if I should hire a marketer?"
I laughed as I picked up the muffins. "Says the woman who has gone through twenty or so baking assistants in the past year. I'll let you mull that idea longer while I go next door and devour these muffins."
Chapter 18
I finished writing up the last purchase order while Ryder swept the floor. My stomach had been protesting the banana muffin lunch for hours. I'd texted Briggs to ask him about dinner, but he was working late. I decided to approach my glum looking assistant about the subject.
I straightened up the paperwork on my desk and headed out to the front of the shop. Ryder was staring longingly across the street as he absently swished the broom back and forth.
"Let's go to Franki's for dinner," I said. "My treat."
Ryder seemed hesitant at first. He cast a glance across the street once more. Lola had managed to stay holed up in her shop. She never even came out for lunch or a break. She was pulling a full adult pout.
"Let's go. I'm hungry for one of Franki's burgers and some cherry pie." Ryder put the broom away, and the two of us walked down to the diner. I didn't have to look in the direction of the antique shop to know that my dear but nutty friend was watching us as we headed down the sidewalk.
Franki's dining room was back to its usual bustling self. I caught a glimpse of Franki as she dashed into the kitchen. She had a smile plastered across her face. The death of Rico had cancelled out the competition. Franki had been worried about two weeks of lost business, but two weeks abruptly shrank to one day. Normally, she called hello to me from wherever she was in the restaurant, but she didn't say a word. She was still feeling betrayed. That thought whisked away some of my appetite. Fortunately, the delicious aromas in the diner helped revive it by the time Franki's daughter, Kimi, showed us to our table.
"How is your mom feeling?" I asked as we slid into our booth.
Kimi chuckled. "A lot better since they've shut down the taco truck." She leaned over to lower her voice even though her mother was nowhere to be seen. "She was so grumpy, Kylie and I were avoiding her." She straightened again and winked flirtatiously at Ryder as she handed him a menu. "By the way, we're out of pie. Mom didn't bake any because she thought business would be slow."
"Darn," Ryder said. "Guess I'll have to settle for a chocolate shake for dessert"
"Oh, we're out of ice cream too," Kimi said with a sweet smile
Ryder slumped back.
Kimi laughed and tapped his shoulder. "Just kidding." She was totally flirting with him. He didn't seem to notice, but his mood brightened when he realized there was ice cream. "Anything to drink?"
"Cola, please" Ryder said.
"I'm good with water, but can I get a slice of lemon?"
"I'll be right back with a soda and water." She flounced away with a slight sway of her hips. She was definitely growing up.
I sat forward. "What else did you do in the Amazon, other than swat away insects, avoid snakes and dine with tarantulas?"
Ryder rested back against the vinyl seat. "Most of my time was spent either leaned over a microscope, collecting specimens or cataloguing plants."
I couldn't stop the nose crinkle. "That science-y stuff doesn't sound too fun or adventurous."
"It's exciting to discover a new species, but yeah, for the most part, science moves at a snail's pace."
Kimi returned with the drinks, and we ordered burgers and fries.
I was tempted to ask if he had tried to call Lola but decided she was a good subject to avoid. "Do you think you'll go on another adventure soon?"
Ryder had one of those smooth, deep laughs that made you want to chuckle right along with him, even if you didn't quite catch the humor.
"I think I've had enough of sparrow-sized mosquitoes and Labrador sized spiders for awhile. And yes, those comparisons were wholly exaggerated but only by a few inches and pounds." He picked up his straw and pushed it into the bubbly glass of cola. "Truth is, I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for world travel. I was pretty homesick while I was there. I had at least three dreams about my mom's pot roast." His brows scrunched beneath his long bangs. "Who dreams about pot roast?"
"A person who was having to share papaya and rice with a tarantula," I suggested.
"True. The food was pretty bland and unappealing. But it still doesn't explain the odd dream where I was helping my third grade teacher stack building blocks on top of a race car."
I mulled that scenario over for a second, then shook my head. "Nope, I have nothing to offer on that one. You're on your own."
Our follow-up laughter was cut short when I spotted Detective Fairchild walking in the door. I sucked in a breath and sat forward but also ducked down to hide
. "Don't look now but James' new coworker just walked into the diner."
Ryder leaned forward and lowered his voice. "When you say 'don't look now' do you want me to look or should I not look? That one always confuses me."
His wry comment broke the tension in my face and I cracked a smile. "Wise guy. Just glance casually over your shoulder. But don't make it obvious. I don't want to draw attention to myself."
Ryder was getting a kick out of the whole thing. He could barely contain a smile as he flicked his napkin onto the floor, spun his long legs out of the booth and leaned down with a flourish to retrieve the napkin. His head turned sharply on the way up. He returned to his sitting position, napkin clutched in hand.
"She looks sort of—" he started.
"If you say nice, we might have to end our friendship," I injected quickly. "But don't let me cloud your judgment."
"No, that certainly doesn't cloud my judgment. I was going to say uppity."
"Good word. I hope she sits at the counter. I don't want to see her. We met last night, and it wasn't a great first meeting." I leaned slightly left and right to avoid being seen.
"Are you using me as a human shield?" Ryder asked.
"Yes, so straighten up and don't slump."
Fairchild had spoken to the girl at the register. The girl hurried off toward the kitchen, leaving Fairchild, with her crisp jeans, black blazer and stern expression, standing at the counter.
Franki walked out, wiping her hands on her apron. I turned my head slightly hoping to pick up the conversation, but there was too much peripheral noise in the diner.
"I could make you a cone out of my placemat," Ryder suggested. He cupped his hand and held it to his ear. "You know, like those old fashioned hearing aids they used to use."
Jasmine and Jealousy Page 8