by Diane Kelly
I couldn’t blame her one bit. I’d probably feel the same way in her shoes . . . though I might not feel the same way quite so soon. I might need more time to come to terms with his death. But everyone grieves in different ways and at different speeds, I supposed.
She let out a sharp breath. “I was stupid to let him treat me the way he did. He convinced me that he cared about me and that he would promote me once I proved myself. Turns out he was just a con man. A cheat, too. I thought we were exclusive, but after your grand opening, I learned that wasn’t the case. He was dating one of his other servers, too. Ashlynn.”
“The one you were fending off on the sidewalk?”
An embarrassed blush darkened her cheeks. “You saw that?”
“I did.” In fact, everyone at my party had witnessed the catfight, but I wouldn’t humiliate her further by saying so. “What happened?”
“Cormac and I went back to Limericks when we left here.” She gestured to my shop windows. “Ashlynn came into the bar, saw me and Cormac together, and screamed, ‘You’re a dead man!’ ”
Whoa. “ ‘Dead man’? Really?”
She nodded. “She went after him first, but when she couldn’t get to Cormac she turned on me instead.”
“That wasn’t fair, either.” I wondered how Ashlynn would feel when she learned that Miranda planned to reopen Limericks. Would she be jealous of her former rival for Cormac’s affections? Or would she move on? If she was Cormac’s killer, would she return to seek vengeance on Miranda, too? And me? “Do you think she carried through with her threat? Do you think she’s the one who killed Cormac?”
Miranda raised her palms. “Maybe. Cormac never scheduled us to work the same shifts so I didn’t know Ashlynn, but Isabella worked with her a few times. She told me Ashlynn wasn’t friendly. I don’t know what to think, honestly. The situation hardly seems real. I’m just trying to put it behind me and get on with my life. That’s why I want to get the bar open again.”
I glanced over at Limericks, noting that Ace’s notice was still posted on the door. For now, the bar remained a crime scene, not a place of business. “Did the police say you can move ahead with your plans?”
“Ace said it’s up to the building’s owner, whether they’ll allow me to lease the space. She said she’s spoken with Cormac’s next of kin. They haven’t been in touch with him in years. Nobody seems to know if he left a will, and none of them are interested in serving as his executor. They seem to know there’d be nothing in it for them but headaches. I doubt anyone will try to stop me from taking over.”
Miranda had been very forthcoming with me. I wondered if she’d been the same with Ace and whether that would hurt her case or help it. I’d been forthcoming and had only seemed to dig myself in deeper. On one hand, being straightforward made Miranda seem honest and trustworthy. On the other hand, the more information she offered, the more she appeared to have multiple motives for putting an end to Cormac O’Keefe. Not only had he cheated on her romantically, he’d also cheated her out of income and burdened her with duties well above her pay grade while offering her no remuneration in return. Moreover, the fact that she seemed so eager to take over the bar and operate it on her own could mean she’d had her eye on his business all along. Was it possible she’d asked him to show her how to handle the administrative tasks so she’d know how to manage the bar once it was hers? She had to realize Cormac hadn’t exactly ingratiated himself to others. Maybe she’d realized that if he was killed, the crime could be pinned on any number of adversaries. Or maybe Miranda was exactly who she appeared to be—a hardworking young woman with ambition, much like me, but younger and more glamorous. Still, the news of Cormac’s death was new. She seemed to have come to terms with his demise very quickly, though his infidelity had likely made it easier to accept.
“You know how to run the place,” I said, “but do you know about corporations and contracts and stuff like that?”
“Not much,” she said. “Got any advice?”
Having just gone through the process of setting up a business myself, I had oodles of information to offer her. “If you’re going to run a business, you should form a corporation to protect yourself from personal liability. Change the name of the place and get a new lease. Put the utilities in the name of your new business, too. Otherwise, if you continue to run the place as Limericks, you could inadvertently take on Cormac’s debts.” I hadn’t gotten an A in my college business law class for nothing. “You should talk to an attorney. Try Heath Delaney. His office is nearby, and he represents other businesses in the area.”
Miranda pulled out her phone and opened the notes app. “Could you run through all of that again? I’m going to make a to-do list.”
I repeated my advice and she typed as fast as her French-tipped thumbs could move. When she finished, she looked up at me. “You’re really smart, Hattie.”
I was intelligent, sure, but my education, experience, and sheer determination had carried me, too. “I studied business in college and worked in the accounting department at MoonPie for years.”
“My only jobs have been serving food and drinks,” Miranda said, “but I was pretty good at talking customers into appetizers and desserts. I could sometimes convince them to order call drinks rather than well drinks, too. I made more in tips as a server than a lot of my friends earned in their office jobs.”
“What I’m hearing is that you’ve got a knack for in-person sales.”
“I do.” She smiled and lifted her chin proudly. “I’ve completed all my basics at Chattanooga State Community College and taken a couple of business classes. Basic accounting and marketing. I’ve got a 3.8 GPA. Made the dean’s list every semester.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.” I felt ashamed to realize I’d judged her by her appearance and underestimated her, just like people had underestimated me at times. I should’ve known better than to judge a book by its French-tipped, tight-jeans-wearing blond cover.
“I think I could run a successful bar.” She stared across the street at Limericks for a moment before looking at me again. “No, I know I could.”
Miranda clearly had some smarts, experience, and education, and she most definitely had the determination she’d need to give the place a real go. I admired her confidence, too. “Sounds like you’ve got what it takes. Maybe we can do some cross-promotions that’ll benefit us both.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “I could use a mentor. Someone to go to for business advice. Could you help me out? Woman to woman?”
“ ‘Woman to woman’ is code for ‘at no charge,’ isn’t it?”
“See?” She grinned. “You really are smart.”
We shared a laugh. “I’d be happy to help.” Who was I to deny assistance to a fellow female entrepreneur? Besides, working alongside her would give me access to the bar’s records and might help me figure out who had killed Cormac. The sooner his killer was identified and put behind bars, the sooner I’d be off the hook and could have that dinner with Marlon. Of course, I’d make the situation work for me, too. “I do have one condition, though.”
“Name it.”
“Your bar serves my moonshine exclusively. No other brand.”
She didn’t think twice about my demand. “Done.”
She stuck out her hand and I gave it a shake, sealing our deal. The sales rep for Backwoods Bootleggers would be disappointed the next time he made a sales call at the bar and Miranda refused to buy shine from him, but I’d dare him to complain. After crashing my party, he’d convinced Cormac to carry his brand only. Turnabout is fair play, right?
“Speaking of my shine,” I said, “how’s your personal supply holding up?”
“I’m about halfway through my jar of wild blackberry,” Miranda said. “I’m not sure what’s left of the jar Cormac took with him.”
Aha! He’d taken a jar, not a jug. That meant he might have
chosen the cherry flavor. Dare I ask outright? Would it be too obvious? I supposed it would only be obvious to the killer why I was asking. Her response could tell me whether she was guilty or innocent. “Did Cormac choose the blackberry, too?”
“No,” she said, with no detectable change in her tone or expression. “He got a jar of the cherry flavor. He said he could use it to make spiked cherry cola.”
He’d chosen a jar of the cherry shine. Hmm. Could Cormac have been killed with the very jar he’d taken from my party? If so, it would increase the odds that his killer was someone close to him, such as a former employee like Ashlynn. If Miranda had been the one to kill him, it seemed unlikely she’d have been so forthcoming about the flavor he’d chosen. She would have probably feigned ignorance or lied outright.
“Funny,” Miranda added, “the policewoman asked me the same thing. What flavor moonshine Cormac got at your party.”
Feigning ignorance myself, I responded with a mere “Hmm.”
Two thirtyish couples wandered up to the store. As I opened the door to let them in, I turned to Miranda. “The Shack closes at five o’clock. Should I come by the bar afterward so we can talk some more?”
“Definitely,” Miranda said. “I can use your help.”
“Okay. See you then.” Is she telling the truth? Has she really not seen Cormac since the night of my grand opening? Time would tell, I supposed. But for now, my instincts were telling me she was being honest.
I followed the couples into my shop and helped them select several jars of shine. “I’m running a Mother’s Day special,” I said. “I can gift wrap a jar for your mother if you’d like to pick one out for her.”
“What a wonderful idea!” one of the women said. “I had no idea what I was going to get her. She already has everything.”
The other woman reached out to a shelf. “I’ll get the blueberry flavor for my mother and apple pie for my stepmom.”
I rang them up, bagged their gifts, and walked them to the door with a “Thank you! Come back soon!”
Once the door swung closed, Kiki whispered, “Dish.” She gestured to the young woman still sitting on the rocker out front. “What did you and Miranda talk about out there?”
I kept my voice soft, too. “She’s going to reopen Limericks. I gave her some business advice, and she asked me to help her out, to serve as her mentor.”
Kiki frowned. “You said no, didn’t you? Miranda could be the one who killed Cormac.”
“It’s possible,” I said, “but I’m not feeling it. Besides, helping her will give me access to Limericks and information that might help me identify the killer.”
“What are you thinking?” Kiki hissed as she threw her hands in the air. “You could end up dead!”
“I’ll be careful,” I said. “I won’t let on if I figure out she’s the killer.”
Kiki groaned. “If Miranda kills you, I’m going to say ‘I told you so.’ In fact, I’ll make it the theme of your eulogy.”
“Understood. But you’d still take Smoky for me? Raise him right?”
“I’ll take him in, but I’m going to let him run with the wrong crowd and I won’t help him with his algebra homework. He’ll become a feline delinquent.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Chapter Twelve
Late afternoon came and, as Marlon had suggested, Kiki and I moved our cars from the small space behind my shop to street parking so that we could exit out of the front of my shop rather than the back, where we’d be more vulnerable.
Isabella emerged from Limericks and Miranda stood from the rocker in front of the Moonshine Shack. She crossed the street and spoke briefly with Ace and Marlon in front of the bar before going inside. Marlon carried a computer and monitor, which he stashed in the trunk of Ace’s car. Ace yanked her notice from the door and shoved it down inside her enormous tote. Looks like she’s done with her investigation and interviews at Limericks.
Marlon came across the street and entered the shop. “Afternoon, ladies.”
I greeted him with a smile, while Kiki said, “Hey, copper.”
He kept an eye out while Kiki and I closed up the shop, and accompanied us out the front door when we’d finished, hauling Smoky in his carrier. As he headed to my car, I said, “Smoky’s going home with Kiki.”
“He is?” Marlon’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not planning on staying here at your shop alone, are you?”
“No,” I reassured him. “I’m going over to Limericks. I told Miranda I’d help her with business stuff so she can get the bar up and running again.”
Marlon’s jaw dropped. “You did what?”
Kiki gave me a look of utter disdain before turning back to him. “You heard right, Marlon. Hattie offered to assist a murder suspect.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m as much a suspect as Miranda is. Probably more so.”
Marlon scoffed. “Here I am, trying to keep you safe, and you’re sticking your nose where it could get you killed.”
My ire rose at the implication that I was taking stupid chances. “Miranda would be a fool to try anything with me. She knows I’ve told Kiki where I’ll be.”
Though Marlon’s jaw flexed, the hard look in his eyes softened. “I suppose there’s some truth to that. I’m coming with you, though.”
Kiki looked relieved at his suggestion. “You’re a good copper, Marlon.”
He cut me a look before turning back to her. “If your friend is going to be such a pain in my backside, I’m not sure one dinner is going to be enough.”
I couldn’t argue with that, mostly because I didn’t want to. If he wanted to go on more than one dinner date once this case was solved, I certainly had no objection.
Kiki slid Smoky into her backseat and took the wheel, reversing out of her spot. She unrolled her window and raised a hand, waving goodbye as she motored off.
Miranda had recounted to me earlier what she’d told Ace, but I was curious what Ashlynn and Isabella might have told the police. I asked Marlon about it as we crossed the street.
“How’d it go with Isabella and Ashlynn?” I asked. “I take it Ashlynn didn’t confess?”
“Not yet, anyway,” he said. “She admitted to hollering the threat when she saw Cormac and Miranda flirting, and she admitted she was the one to start the catfight. She said she was shocked to stumble upon the two of them and had a sudden emotional outburst. She even apologized to me for having to break it up, and said she was embarrassed by the way she’d acted. But as for killing her boss? No. She said she went straight home after her shift. She said she continued working at Limericks because Cormac told her Miranda had come on to him, that it was a one-sided attraction.”
“She didn’t fall for his lies, did she?”
“She claimed she believed what Cormac told her and that they’d reconciled, but neither Ace nor I bought her story. She was overselling it, making it sound like everything was peaches and cream. She must have sensed that we didn’t believe her, because she went on to say that she needed the income. She knew she wouldn’t get unemployment benefits if she quit, and she couldn’t afford to take time off while she looked for another job. She said she’d put in applications at other bars and restaurants in the area, though, and had even had an interview at a new place that opened a couple of blocks from here.”
“But if they’d truly reconciled, she’d have no reason to look for a new job.”
“Exactly,” Marlon said. “Her attempts to deflect suspicion only make her seem more guilty. Still, her behavior is only circumstantial evidence. More proof would be needed to arrest and convict her.”
“What about Isabella?”
“She answered all of Ace’s questions, but she really didn’t know much. She’s the kind of person who just keeps her head down and does her job.”
“Did she know Cormac was dating both Ashlynn and Miranda
?”
“She said she suspected it, but she wasn’t sure. She’d never discussed the matter outright with Ashlynn. She said Ashlynn was cold to the other female staff. Could be she saw them as potential rivals.”
We stepped up the curb to the front of the bar. The smiling leprechaun greeted us, though I noticed he looked worse for wear today. The top of his hat was chipped and the plaster on his right cheek was scraped. Looked like he’d taken a tumble off his tiny pedestal since the last time I’d been here. At least he hadn’t lost the gold coin he was proudly holding up. I rapped on the door before calling out, “It’s Hattie!”
A moment later, Miranda opened the door, a confused look on her face when she saw Marlon standing next to me.
I put a positive spin on the situation. “Officer Landers offered to stick around to make sure we stay safe.”
“Oh.” She looked up at Marlon. “That’s very nice of you.” She opened the door wide to allow us in before turning to me. “I hope you can make sense of Cormac’s records. I know I can’t.”
The place looked much as it had the last time I’d been here, attempting to deliver Cormac’s order. The lighting was dim. Chairs were turned upside down on top of the tables. The air bore a lingering smell of spilled beer mixed with pine-scented floor cleaner. The only difference was that a nearly full bottle of Backwoods Bootleggers moonshine sat on the shelf behind the bar. The previous bottle had been emptied and replaced.
Miranda led us up to the bar. The hinged bar flap was raised, allowing us easy access behind the counter. We followed her past bottles of gin, vodka, bourbon, and more, walking through an open door into a small, windowless office. Although Ace had taken Cormac’s desktop computer, she’d left the printer behind. A laptop sat open on the desk, presumably Miranda’s personal device. Two chairs were positioned in front of the desk. One was a rolling desk chair. The other had been brought in from the bar area.