“Yes, I will. Thank you. It’s a beautiful church.”
Abigail smiled in return. There was something about the shape of her face that reminded Lucky of her mother. It was gone in a flash and she pushed the thought away. “We’re very proud of it,” Abigail responded.
Lucky glanced down at the candelabra in Abigail’s hand. Abigail caught her look and laughed. “Just polishing…making sure everything’s ready.”
Lucky nodded. “I’ll be going then. It was very nice to meet you.”
“You as well,” Abigail said. “And I’m sorry if I gave you a fright.”
Lucky smiled. “That’s quite all right. No worries,” she said as she shut the door softly behind her.
Outside the chapel the wind whipped her hair and bent the icy branches of the trees. She pulled on her cap and wrapped her scarf tighter. A little divine intervention wouldn’t hurt at all right now, but in the meantime, she had to do everything she possibly could to solve her problems. A lot of people wanted Patricia Honeywell dead, but only one person actually committed the crime. If Nate was determined to build a case against Sage, it fell upon her to find out who else wanted Honeywell dead.
Lucky took a shortcut through the alleyway that led to the Spoonful, finally cleared since the storm. She groaned when she spotted Nate’s cruiser in the tiny lot behind the restaurant. She quickened her steps, half afraid something dreadful might have happened once again, or terrified that Jack had had one of his spells. A man in coveralls with a trowel in his hand was on his knees by the Dumpster. He was carefully scraping away snow and ice from the area where Patricia Honeywell’s body had been found. At least they hadn’t parked in front of the restaurant, where everyone would see the cruiser. That was something. Their customers might not have returned, but the Spoonful didn’t need any further advertisement of the grisly find behind their building.
Nate, standing next to the technician, and doing his best to stay warm, turned as she approached.
“What’s going on, Nate?” Lucky asked.
“Got a tech on loan from the PD in Lincoln Falls. I just want to make sure there isn’t any evidence buried here. I don’t want any surprises when spring finally comes and the snow melts.” Nate stamped his feet to stay warm. “Heard you were visiting my prisoner.”
Bradley hadn’t wasted any time. Lucky nodded. “Yes. We’re also providing food for him.” She tried not to let a note of resentment creep into her voice over the fact that Nate had arrested the best chef Snowflake had ever seen. If she hoped to do anything to get Sage out of jail and the Spoonful back on track, it would be better not to make an adversary of Nate.
“Hey, how ’bout some coffee?” Lucky asked. “You must be freezing.”
The technician looked up hopefully at her suggestion, and Nate blew on his hands to keep them warm. “Uh…thanks, Lucky. We’d really appreciate that.”
“I’ll be right back—unless you’d like to come inside?”
“Nah, we better keep going. We should be done soon.”
Lucky ducked through the back door of the Spoonful and headed for the kitchen. “Hi, Jack,” she called.
“Hi, yourself.” He smiled widely and approached the kitchen hatch.
“I just offered Nate and his guy some coffee. They look like they’re freezing out there.”
“Good idea.”
Lucky poured coffee into two heavy-duty paper cups, placed them in a cardboard tray with cream containers and sugar and headed out to the parking lot. She rested the container on the hood of the cruiser and watched Nate dump two sugars and cream into his cup. The technician continued to dig through ice around the Dumpster. Lucky stuck her hands in her pockets and casually asked, “Is there something specific you’re looking for?”
Nate grumbled. “Nope. Just covering my bases. We don’t want to miss anything.”
“Are you looking for her other earring?” Lucky hazarded.
“How do you…what makes you think that?” Nate shot her a look that would have made anyone cringe. Lucky would have shriveled up as well, except she realized this was the best chance she had to talk to Nate and hopefully get him to open up to her. She said a silent prayer that Nate never ever found out she had searched the house on Bear Path Lane.
“I remember seeing the body. There was one earring dangling from her…right ear, I think. But I didn’t see one on her other ear.”
“Lucky, you know I can’t talk to you about this. I don’t want my case blabbed all over town.”
“You think I would do that? Give me some credit, Nate.” If only Nate knew what a gossip Bradley was, she thought.
Nate sipped his coffee and watched the technician chipping away at the ice.
“Did you find a cell phone on her by any chance?” Lucky persisted.
“Lucky.” Nate turned to her, his eyes drilling holes into her head. “I’m not gonna repeat myself.”
“Okay, okay.” Lucky fell silent but finally couldn’t resist one more question.
“Have you found her rental car yet?”
Nate didn’t respond.
Exasperated, Lucky pushed on. “Come on, Nate. Give us a break…please.”
Nate heaved a sigh. “We found it. It was up the road that leads to Lexington Heights.”
Lucky’s ears went up. “So maybe the murderer dumped the body here and left the car someplace else?” she asked hopefully. If that were the case, then the Spoonful would be relieved of the distinction of being the scene of the crime.
Nate’s face was closed. He assumed what Lucky thought of as a cop’s inscrutable expression.
“Nate, what possible motive could Sage have had?”
“You’ll have to ask him. It’s not something I can talk about.”
She couldn’t know for sure but suspected Nate had arrested Sage on the basis of his past with Honeywell. She wasn’t about to tell him she already knew about that past. Discretion was the best course.
“Jack doesn’t believe Sage is guilty, by the way.” She knew she was annoying Nate, but hoped he carried a bit of guilt about the effect on their business and wouldn’t blow his top.
“That’s commendable. I have the greatest respect for your grandfather. I’ve always looked up to him. You know that. And I know Sage’s worked for your family for several years, but…”
“But what?”
“Nice guys commit murder too.”
“You’re not convinced she was killed here, are you? And”—she indicated the technician—“this might confirm it.”
The man in the coveralls stood and turned to Nate but, spotting Lucky still standing there, was unsure if he should speak. He shook his head negatively at Nate. “Nothing.”
“Okay. Let’s pack it up, then.” He turned to Lucky. “We’ll be out of your way now.”
Lucky climbed the steps to the back door of the Spoonful. “Just for the record, Nate, I trust Jack’s opinion. I think you’re making a terrible mistake.”
Nate didn’t even honor her remark with a look. He got behind the wheel of the cruiser and waited while the technician packed his tools, stepped out of his coveralls and tossed them in the trunk. He grabbed the coffee that was probably cold by now and climbed into the passenger seat. As soon as his seat belt was fastened, Nate drove off without a backward look.
Lucky watched the police car until it turned out of the alley onto Broadway. Shivering, she hurried inside, hung her jacket in the closet and kicked off her snow boots. Something delicious was warming in the kitchen. She slipped on a pair of loafers and headed down the hall. She lifted the lid of the Crock-Pot and peeked at the contents. Jack had warmed a container of Sage’s pea and barley soup with bacon. A loaf of bakery bread was heating in the oven. Jack sat with Hank and Barry at a corner table, watching their chess game intently once again. He looked up when he heard her footsteps in the kitchen. He rose from the chair slowly and approached the hatch to the kitchen. Lucky could tell his back was hurting.
“You feeling okay, Jack?” she
asked.
“I’m fine. It’s just these old bones. This sitting around isn’t good for me. Much better if I’m busy and moving around. How’s our boy doing?”
Lucky smiled ruefully. “Seems depressed—understandable. I brought him the food but he wasn’t very interested in eating.”
“Did he have anything to say?”
Lucky shook her head slightly, indicating Hank and Barry at their corner table. “Quite a lot, actually, but I’ll tell you later.” She whispered, “When we’re alone.”
Jack nodded. “I knew there was something. I could tell that day—the day Nate took him. He didn’t even put up an argument or look surprised.”
“You’d think he was guilty, wouldn’t you?”
“If you didn’t know him, yes. But we know him. Anybody that cares that much about food…well, I just don’t buy it. I just can’t figure why Nate was in such an all-fired hurry to arrest him.”
“Have you eaten yet?”
Jack shook his head. “Been too busy trying to learn chess. Thought I’d wait for you.”
“Why don’t I dish out some bowls for all of us?” She smiled. “Might as well offer some free soup to Hank and Barry—at least they’ve been loyal customers.”
Jack nodded. “I’ll set a table for us.”
Lucky grabbed a large round tray and ladled the soup into four hefty bowls. She fixed a basket of sliced warm bread and added a small butter dish to the tray.
“Hey, Lucky—we can pay,” Barry said as he moved to the larger table. “No need for charity here.”
“That’s all right—maybe next time. Today is just a thank-you for showing up.” She glanced over at Jack, busy tearing off a slice of bread and spreading butter on it. Lucky thanked her stars that Jack was still here. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be totally alone in the world. She felt a rush of sympathy for Remy. He must be terrified that Sage could be locked up for life. Remy wasn’t standing on very solid ground to begin with, and Sage was the only person he had in the world.
She looked around the table. Holding her soup spoon aloft, she said, “To Sage.”
The toast was echoed around the table. “May he return quickly to the Spoonful!”
“Amen,” Barry added.
Hank said, “I heard you’re feeding him down at the jail. How’s he holding up?”
Lucky shook her head. “Not good. Not good at all. It wouldn’t hurt if you stopped in just to say hello and tell him you’re on his side. Might lift his spirits.”
“That’s a very good idea. Everyone in this town is whispering and tiptoeing around. That poor guy must feel like a leper. I know how I’d feel if I were in his shoes. I’d be chewing at the bars and screaming.”
“The scariest thing is he seems resigned. I guess that’s what bothered me so much today.”
“Resigned?” Barry echoed. “Like he doesn’t believe he has a way to defend himself, or he doesn’t think anyone would believe him?”
“Both, I suppose.”
Barry shook his head. “I just don’t get it. He was quiet, kept to himself, never caused anybody any bother. I’d see him around town with that cute girlfriend of his and he seemed real happy. He wasn’t one to run around with strange women like that Honeywell character.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Lucky answered. If she ever let it slip what the history between Sage and the murder victim was, she could imagine how tongues in the town would wag. She wasn’t free to tell anyone what Sage had confided to her, but she wished she could. Maybe if people knew what had been done to him, they’d have a bit more sympathy.
Barry broke off a hunk of bread. “Saw Nate out back,” he offered, hoping someone would fill in the rest.
“Yes,” Lucky sighed. “With a technician.”
“What were they digging around back there for?”
“Nate’s not going to tell me, but I’m sure he wants to figure out if she was killed there, or just dumped there. Personally, I hope it’s the latter.”
Hank said, “Be a whole lot better for the Spoonful if that were the case.”
“I agree,” Barry said, dipping his bread into the last of his soup. “I think it’s just terrible that more local people aren’t coming around. They should be ashamed of themselves. They’d be the first to complain about corporate takeover in the town, believe you me. If they don’t get a move on they won’t have a local place to stop in to and then you’d hear them whining.” Barry turned to Hank. “Maybe we should have a word with all the people we know and encourage them to come back.”
“Sure. I agree you’d hear a lot of bellyaching if the Spoonful went under. Tourists—what do they know—but the real people here, they should be ashamed of themselves. I think I’ll make some phone calls this very afternoon.” Hank stood and slipped on his jacket.
Barry rose from his chair. “Thanks for lunch—Jack, Lucky. We’ll be back tomorrow and we insist on paying, so no more nonsense about free food.”
Once they had gone, Lucky carried the dishes into the kitchen, while Jack rinsed them and loaded them into the dishwasher. When they had finished, Jack pulled up a stool and sat at the counter. “So tell me how it went.”
Lucky repeated a condensed version of Sage’s story to Jack. When she had finished, Jack whistled. “I knew it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I knew he had done time.”
Lucky’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“Lucky, my girl, I’ve been around all kinds of men most of my life. I never said anything about it to your parents, but I could tell. It was the way he walked.”
“His walk?”
“Uh-huh,” Jack responded. “You can tell. Takes a lot to break the habit of shuffling and looking down at the floor. Said ‘jail time’ to me.”
“And you never asked him about it? Or said anything to Mom and Dad?”
“No—no need. I kept an eye on him for a bit, just to be sure, but I finally decided he was okay in my book and I didn’t worry about it anymore. Besides, look how lucky we were to get a chef like him.”
Lucky smiled and reached up to rub his rough cheek. “You are full of surprises, Jack, you know that?”
Jack smiled in return. “Marjorie and Cecily were here this morning too—while you were down at the police station. I don’t want you to worry. Everyone’ll start coming back. When Nate figures out he’s arrested the wrong man, things’ll be normal again.”
They heard the front door open and close. Jack looked out through the hatch. He turned back to Lucky and whispered, “Speak of the devil, it’s Nate.”
Lucky’s eyebrows shot up.
“Anybody here?” Nate called out.
“Come on in,” Jack replied. “Be right with you.” Jack left the kitchen and joined Nate at the counter.
“Just decided to stop back for some food. You folks open?”
“Just barely,” Jack replied. “What’ll you have?”
“Got any of that chili today?”
“Coming right up,” Lucky called out. She filled the order and passed the bowl through the hatch.
She overheard Nate. “Wanted to stop by and see you, Jack. Maybe have a private word.”
Lucky decided to remain silent. Nate’s father had died young, and Jack, an old friend of his father, had always made an effort to keep an eye out for Nate. It was Jack who had encouraged him to go into law enforcement.
The phone in the office started to ring. Lucky hurried down the corridor and pushed open the office door. She grabbed the receiver off the hook.
“Can you get up here in the next hour?” It was Sophie’s voice—without preamble.
“Uh…sure…okay. Just need to make sure Jack’s all set here.”
“Good. There’s somebody else I want you to talk to.”
“Where should we meet?”
“I’ve got a private in a few minutes. I can’t be there, but go to the Ski Shop and ask for Chance. He knows you’re coming. He’s a friend.”
> “All right,” she replied hesitantly. Lucky wondered why all this unsolicited information was being offered to her and not to the police. Was Sophie setting her up with people who were willing to lie? Maybe she had a change of heart where Lucky was concerned, but she also had an agenda to make sure Sage was out of jail. She shrugged the feeling off. Sophie might have her faults and petty jealousies, but Lucky couldn’t conceive of her being able to coerce others into giving false information. After all, Lucky could very well go straight to the police with the information she had gathered. And in truth that would be the exact right thing to do.
“Ask for Chance. He’ll only be in the shop for another hour.”
Lucky sighed. “Okay. But Sophie, this is just gossip. I’m not sure it’ll do Sage any good at all.”
“It’s a lot more than gossip. You’ll see. Honeywell was a very busy lady—and certainly not that much of a lady.” Sophie snickered and hung up the phone.
Lucky heard murmured voices from the front room as she slipped on her jacket and boots. She stuck her head around the corner. “Jack, I’m going out for a bit. I’ll check back later.”
Nate had stopped in midsentence.
“See you later.” Jack waved to her.
Sophie’s call had been good timing. She had a feeling Nate would tell Jack things he wouldn’t say in front of her. Perhaps, she hoped, he was having second thoughts about arresting Sage.
Chapter 25
CHANCE WAS A tall, wiry man. His biceps bulged under his sweater, and his dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Lucky wandered around the shop pretending interest in the merchandise while Chance waited on two customers, a couple, obviously from the city and anxious to buy the latest equipment and accessories. She listened to his line of patter as he led his patrons from one expensive item to another. After ten minutes of encouraging sales talk, he rang up their purchases and, with a last dazzling smile, walked them to the door.
He had sidled up to her before she realized it. “Hi. I’m Chance. Can I help you with anything?” His smile implied he could help her with many things that weren’t available at the Ski Shop. A shaft of sunlight played across his features. Crinkle lines around his eyes and a few streaks of gray gave the lie to the youthful appearance he had first presented.
A Spoonful of Murder Page 15