She winked, patted Eve on the shoulder, and turned away, practically floating on air as she set off to tend to her other customers.
“Hey, where’d that come from? How’d you get served first?” Bella asked, nudging her in the side. Clara and Juniper had squeezed into the booth on the opposite side, next to Lena. Mabe was off in a corner by the counter, talking quietly to someone on her cell phone.
Mystified, Eve shook her head, staring down at the cup of coffee and the slice of pie on the table before her. “Must be my sweet nature.”
Bella elbowed Lena, who gave Eve a wink as Mabe walked over to their table, slapping shut her cell phone.
“They’re keeping it low‑key until today’s events are over. Thank goodness everyone is in town for the lumberjack portion of the festival,” she informed the table in a quiet voice meant just for them, “but they’re moving quickly on it. The crime van’s already at the scene.”
“Where did it happen?” Lena asked.
“The Ice Sculpture Exhibit.”
“Seriously, how awful,” Bella said. “And no one saw anything?”
“Not so far.” Mabe scratched her head. “Anyway, one of the volunteers tripped over her body this morning just before dawn. He’d been drinking in the Ice Bar all night and then realized he forgot to lock the gate. Apparently, he thought it was just another ice sculpture at first. Got quite a shock when he realized what it was. According to early reports, she’d been dead several hours.”
“So, it happened sometime overnight,” Lena said thoughtfully.
Eve scrunched up her face. “Sometime after our meeting at 4pm. The exhibit closes at 6pm but if the gate was unlocked then I guess anyone could have gone in at any time. What was she doing out there?”
Mabe shrugged. “That’s what they’re trying to figure out.”
“Meeting someone,” Lena surmised.
“Makes sense,” Bella added. “A midnight rendezvous. They argued. Things got out of control. It happens, you know.”
Eve cleared her throat. “Well, I suppose it’s possible she was there for some romantic tryst. Or,” she said, trying not to sound too ominous, “maybe she was just involved in something she shouldn’t have been involved in.”
All heads turned in Eve’s direction. Juniper’s head had tilted quizzically, while Mabe’s expression was stern.
“You’re not hiding something from us, are you?” Bella added suspiciously. “This makes for two murders in this town in the past few days. Does this have anything to do with your visit yesterday?”
“It does.”
“Visit?” Lena asked.
Mabe ignored her sister, her eyes holding steady on Eve. “Did Bianca tell you who stole the doll?”
That revelation drew gasps from around the table, but Clara’s was the loudest. “You met with that horrid, pushy woman?”
Eve looked at the elderly woman. “I did. She said it was Sharlene Spittle,” she finally said out loud, before she could change her mind.
“You should have taken us with you? What if something had happened?” Lena asked, concerned.
“Mabe backed me up.”
“What?”
Mabe sat stoically with her arms crossed, looking at Lena’s angry face. “You were shopping and, well, she only needed one of us,” she said finally. “There was no point in either of you coming. Bella knew where I was.”
“I didn’t know where you’d gone.” Belle exclaimed. “You just disappeared after Eve showed up.”
“I did not. You were sitting and listening to us.”
“I was reading. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Eve started to apologize. But before she could say anything else, her cell phone rang. She checked the number but didn’t recognize it. Turning away from the others momentarily, she flipped open the phone. “Hello.”
“Is this Eve Banter?”
“Yes. Who’s this?” She had to stick a finger in her other ear, as the Mabels were still arguing.
“It’s your brother,” the voice at the other end of the line said. “You remember me?”
“Bubba. Oh my God! I was just missin’ you the other day. March Break just ain’t the same without your ugly mug around this town. Where have you been?” As she spoke, she rose and walked away from the booth, to a quieter spot at the rear of the cafe.
“Sorry, Eveageddon. You know how it is when you’re on the lam.”
“Yes, and don’t call me that,” Eve said.
“Why, it’s a term of affection.”
“It’s referring to the end of the world.”
“Well, you always were a little destructive.”
“Says the one on the run. Anyway, why are you calling? Are you in the clinker?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here.”
“Get here? Where am I going? Not the clinker, I hope.”
“No. I’m over at the tavern. You know where that’s at?”
“You’re here!? You’re at Guitars & Cadillacs?” Eve felt her pulse race. “You’re actually around the corner?”
“You bet. Now, what kind of brother would I be if I missed March Break with my big sister,” Bubba said, “Oh, and lose the ol’biddies. I’ll be in the back booth.”
TWENTY-TWO
G uitars & Cadillacs was literally just around the corner from the café. Eve pulled open the tavern’s heavy oak doors and hurried inside the dark hallway that led past the restrooms to the tavern’s main dining area—if you could call it that. It was a typical dive bar, dimly lit, smelling of stale beer, sweat, and pickled eggs.
There was a man on his cell phone yelling just outside the main door. His voice was extremely loud, and he was pacing like an enraged tiger so Eve couldn’t get by.
“Screw you, Roberta! You lock me out and I’ll kick the door in.” He shoved his fingers through his greasy brown hair and glared through Eve like she wasn’t even there. Then he screwed his long skinny pockmarked face into an ugly scowl and whacked the ATM.
Sounded like a lover’s spat to Eve. Oh, she definitely didn’t miss those days. Her third husband had a real doozy of a temper. It took him forever to learn the more things he broke, the more money Eve spent replacing them.
“Yeah, well I’m through too! Find some other poor schmuck to pay the bills!” There was a harsh string of curse words Eve decided she’d rather not have heard, and then she finally let an elbow fly.
The man whirled around like he was ready to knock her block off.
“Oh, sorry dear.” Eve put on her sweetest Shirly Temple smile. “I didn’t see you there.” She squeezed by him and opened the next door, hurrying inside. She had to pause a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the light. She noticed a few locals swiveling on their barstools, but most of the tavern’s inhabitants seemed to know who she was and turned back to their drinks and conversations with brief nods or waves. Eve nodded a brief acknowledgment to them and, looking around quickly, spotted Bubba in the dark booth on her left.
She slid onto the hard-wooden bench across from him. “Hi Jackass,” she said.
“Hey there, sis.” Bubba reached up to touch the brim of his battered old trucker hat. “Glad to see you didn’t bring the posse. How’d you sneak away from old eagle eyes?”
“If you mean the old biddies. I didn’t. I just told them what you said.”
“What? Ugh, you’re such a tattletale.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they’re gonna take turns whipping your ass later. So, what’s this all about?”
“Well, like I said on the phone, I got something to tell ya.”
“About what?”
Bubba gave her a look. “About your case.”
Eve knew instantly what he meant. She leaned over the table toward him, dropping her voice into a low whisper. “Clara Hart’s doll?”
He lifted his beer mug and took a long pull. He set it back down on the table with a thud before he replied. “Yeah.”
Eve’s phone dinged with an incoming text from Rebe
l. The lab results were back and they had been correct in their suspicions—someone had slipped Clara a benzo. Eve filed that news away for later and turned her attention back to her brother. One problem at a time. “What about it?” She said, and stole his beer from him, putting it to her lips.
“Mabe called me. She was worried you were getting in over your head with this one.” Bubba scratched at the side of his beard, up near his ear. “Anyway, I’ve been in town for a couple days now.”
“What?” Eve practically spit her mouthful of beer out. “And just why haven’t you reached out. Where have you even been staying?”
“Your place.”
“The hell you have.”
“The hell I have. You’d know that if you ever came home. Where you been?”
“Well… you see.”
“Yeah, I know. Mabe says you’re all shacked up again… with the news man this time.”
“Actually, that’s not his main business. As a matter of fact, the newspaper business is fairly new to him. I work there now too.”
He leaned forward a little, lowering his voice to a gravelly growl. “So, he’s your boss. Is he taking advantage of you?”
“Of course not. Don’t be simple, Bubba. Nobody takes advantage of me unless I want them too.”
“Anyway, you know Ren. He owns the private investigation company.”
“Ren Trubble, you don’t say? Ain’t he a little tame for you?”
“I’m trying something new.”
“’Bout time.”
“Says you. When are you gonna settle down and find a nice girl? One who doesn’t draw on her body like it’s a cartoon coloring book.”
“Never. I like tattoos and I like coloring books.”
“Yeah, if you could only just stay between the lines, huh. So, what have you been up to?”
“Looking into things for you, that’s what.”
“Oh yeah?” She paused. “What are we talking about exactly?”
“Well, Spittle, for instance.”
“Sharlene?” Eve’s voice rose, and she immediately looked around. No one in the tavern seemed to be paying them any attention. Still, Eve felt as if ears were listening. She lowered her voice again. “Is this a good place for us to talk about this?”
“It’s the best place in town to talk about this,” Bubba told her, and he lifted a finger to point around the room. “These people know how to keep secrets. And if you need them, they’ll be there to watch your back.”
Eve wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not, and she flinched slightly as she felt a strange tingle dance up her spine, as if someone had just drawn a fingernail along it. “Well, that’s... reassuring to know.”
He was about to say more, but a redheaded waitress in jeans and a black T‑shirt approached the table. “Hey there, Eve. You cheating on Ren with this handsome devil.”
“Mind your business, Rosie!” Eve barked.
Rosie snapped her bubble gum and turned back to Bubba. “How’re you doing with that beer of yours, sweetie?”
In response, he picked it up, drained it in one gulp, and slapped it back down on the table. “I could use another, Rosie. And bring one for my grumpy sister here.”
“You got it.” Rosie smiled at him. “You want anything else?”
“No, that’s it, thanks.”
After the waitress had gone, Eve said, “You’re not very good at keeping a low profile, are you?”
Bubba waved a hand. “Ahh, places like this. People are loyal. Now, what was I saying? Oh yeah, that’s right. Now, I don’t really know what that Charlie lady was up to, but she definitely had it in for Bianca.”
“You mean Sharlene?”
“Pardon?”
“Sharlene Spittle– her name is Sharlene.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said, wasn’t it?”
“No, you said Charlie. Not everyone named Sharlene is nicknamed Charlie, Bubba. That’s just our family.”
Bubba made a face at her. “Anyway, this Sharlene, I found out she’s been complaining to the folks on the museum board about Bianca. She sent them a letter, so I heard. Told them she didn’t think Bianca was doing a very good job. Wanted her fired. Well, Bianca finds out and she’s madder than a wet hen.”
Eve folded her arms on the table, suddenly very interested.
“Now, how did you find all that out? I’m the one who’s supposed to be investigating here.” It always amazed Eve what people would tell her brother. The man was a chameleon. He could rub elbows with billionaires or play darts at the legion and no one ever blinked an eye.
“I got my ways.” He said with a grin.
“Let me guess. She was wearing a pretty smile and a short skirt. When did all this happen?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Bubba scratched at his beard again. “Sometime in the past few weeks. Two, maybe three weeks ago. Something like that. So anyway, after that, Bianca started being real sweet to Sharlene on the surface, but behind her back she was watching Sharlene like a hawk.”
“And you think this has something to do with Bianca’s death?”
Bubba shook his head emphatically. “I didn’t say that. Nope, I didn’t say that at all.” He leaned in even closer, just inches from her. “I heard what happened to her. They’re keeping it all hush‑hush, but I got my sources. She was stabbed, you know. With an ice carving chisel. I bet it wasn’t a pretty scene.”
At this new bit of information, Eve had to hold back a gasp as Rosie returned with two mugs of beer, which she set down on the tabletop.
“Thank ye kindly, my dear.” Bubba grinned widely at the redheaded waitress as he took one of the mugs by the handle and raised it to his mouth. He drank deeply and smacked his lips. “Good as always.”
She gave him a warm smile. “Let me know if you two need anything else.”
After Rosie had walked off again, Bubba turned his eagle eyes on Eve. “Someone done her in real good, that’s for sure. Why, I don’t know. Maybe someone was just trying to keep her quiet. But I’m not saying it was Sharlene. Nope, I don’t know nothing ’bout that. I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. Bianca’s dead, and Sharlene hated her. Oh, and guess who’s missing an ice carving chisel?”
Eve thought it over. There’d been an ice sculpting contest taking place so there were at least ten suspects. Sharlene Spittle’s son, Jericho, had won last year’s competition. Oh my gosh. Her stomach turned.
“Sharlene’s son.”
Bubba nodded.
In some ways it fit with everything else Eve had learned so far. Sharlene had been trying to get Bianca fired. She knew winning the bake-off was important to Bianca so, was she also attempting to beat her in the Bake-off? Had Sharlene stolen the recipe, as Bianca claimed?
Eve thought about Bianca being stabbed. What was she doing at the Ice Sculpture exhibit on the festival grounds at night?
Who had she been there to meet?
She looked back at Bubba. “I appreciate the help, but why are you here endangering yourself like this? I’m sure Mabe could have found this out some other way. What if someone turns you in?”
He gave her that almost nonexistent shrug again. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody’s catching me and if Mabe thinks you’re in real danger this time then I ain’t gonna ignore her and neither should you.”
TWENTY-THREE
A short while later, Eve exited onto Main Street, which was still thick with people waiting for the Lumberjack competition to arrive.
Even though she’d taken only a few sips of beer, leaving the rest in the mug, she felt a little light‑headed. Was it the beer, or was it what Bubba had told her about Bianca’s death? She wasn’t sure, but she figured it wasn’t a good thing either way.
Still, she knew she was making some progress. She’d learned another valuable piece of information, which she added to all the other pieces she’d gathered. As she started down the crowded sidewalk, headed toward the park where the third round of the contest was taking place, she tried to figu
re out where it all led.
This much she knew:
Someone had stolen Cocoa’s doll from Clara’s house. According to Bianca, that someone was her employee, Sharlene Spittle. Bianca had told Eve about Sharlene and now Bianca was dead—found in the middle of the Ice Sculpture Exhibit at the Bohemian Lake Sugar & Ice Festival. Stabbed by a sculptor’s tool.
As her mind worked over the myriad of unanswered questions, she could see in the distance, a bunch of hunky looking men in plaid, outdoorsy clothes, with muscular physiques and scruffy facial hair.
Hello Handsome!
The term lumbersexual came to mind. The competition was about to start back up and the crowd was becoming tense with anticipation. Women craned their necks excitedly and set their phones to video, waiting for their annual accepted display of toxic masculinity. There were even a few women in the competition this year. ‘Bout time, Eve thought to herself. Maybe she’d enter next year. Any excuse to swing an axe was a good one in her opinion.
She thought about calling Ren to see if he had the contestant’s names when someone hurried past, jostling her; it was a burly contestant in plaid. “Sorry, ma’am.” He shouted back to her. As their eyes met, she realized it was Hunter Spittle—Sharlene’s other son.
Did that woman only birth giants?
Her thoughts suddenly shot to Bianca’s untimely demise. Bianca had very possibly been killed with Jericho Spittle’s ice chisel. No doubt the police were following up on that clue at this very moment. If Bianca Hyena was killed for what she knew about Sharlene Spittle, then Eve could be next.
She looked up, realizing she’d almost bumped into someone. It was Mallory Vianu with her nana, who held Abby, a small white‑haired dog, loosely in her left arm. Mallory looked trendy in her Nordic patterned sweater coat with her long, dark hair spilling out from beneath a violet-hued pom-pom hat like a waterfall of dark ink. Eve had to admit, the young lady knew how to stand out in a crowd.
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