He grinned and gestured to his uniform. “I’m not exactly undercover.”
She laughed. “No, certainly not.”
“Looking for a place to eat?” he asked.
Lia nodded. “It’s been a long day at the craft barn, and I don’t feel the least like cooking. I thought I’d pick up something to take home. I’m just not sure where to go for it. The restaurants on this block look pretty busy.”
“If you’re okay with diner food,” Brady said, “Marie’s is around the corner about one block down. I was going to head there myself in a little while. They probably do takeout, but I’d be glad of the company if you wanted to eat in.”
“That sounds very nice,” Lia said, smiling.
“Only thing, my break doesn’t start for ten minutes. Would you mind going ahead and ordering for me?”
“No problem. What would you like?”
Brady asked for the hot turkey sandwich with a side of coleslaw, which Lia duly noted before heading on to Marie’s, pleased with the new plans.
The waitress was in the process of serving their dinners when Brady slipped into the booth across the table from Lia.
“Perfect timing!” she said.
He grinned, his cheeks flushed. “Ran all the way after getting waylaid by a little kid who wanted to ask about being a policeman. Said he wants to be one when he grows up. I didn’t want to blow him off.” He took a swallow from his water glass and unrolled his knife and fork from their paper napkin wrap.
“You might have inspired a future crime fighter,” Lia said.
“He could do worse,” Brady said with a look of pride.
“What inspired you?” Lia asked as she poked a fork into her eggplant parmigiana.
Brady thought that over. “I don’t know, exactly. A lot of things, I suppose.”
“Were you in Boy Scouts?”
“I was.” He paused before adding, “Made Eagle Scout.”
“Good for you. Maybe that was a factor. What was your project?”
Brady smiled at the memory. “My team and I built a handicap ramp for a church. Took us a long time, but it was good and solid. It’s still there and being used, from what I hear.”
“Excellent.” Lia added a smidge of sugar to her iced tea and stirred it with her straw.
“But I think it was probably my time in the army that led me to law enforcement. I liked the discipline, for one thing, even though a lot of guys didn’t. But I saw the reason for it and the need. It worked for me, helped me grow up and get my head together about my future.”
He dabbed at his coleslaw. “I don’t plan to walk the beat for too long.”
“No?”
“It’s good experience, and we all have to start there. But I know I can do more. The police force offers opportunities. But it’ll be up to me to work up to them.”
“I have a feeling you’ll succeed,” Lia said.
“How about you, Mrs. Geiger? Hayley said you were a nurse?”
“Surgical,” Lia said. “Challenging and sometimes grueling but very rewarding.”
“Rewarding ’cause you know you’re helping people, right?”
“Right.”
“That’s what I like about police work. It’s not all about handing out tickets or putting people in jail. You’re helping to keep order and protecting people. It’s a positive thing.”
Lia smiled. If he could hold on to that attitude, he would be a happy—and successful—man. “I really appreciate the help you’ve given us,” she said.
Brady shrugged. “It was hardly anything.”
“Not at all. It was because of you that Hayley and I managed to learn a few things about Adam Mathis from his office manager, Charlotte. We also improved our tennis game in the process,” she added, smiling, “but that’s a whole other thing.” Lia sighed. “It’s such a complicated process, trying to sift through all the people who might have wanted to murder Darren in order to figure out who actually did.”
“Um, Hayley explained why you’re doing this,” Brady said, his brow wrinkling as much as his young face could manage. “I mean, that you’re worried about your friend Belinda Peebles and all. But—”
Lia held up a hand, understanding where he was going. “I am worried about Belinda. I know her well and know she couldn’t have done anything as terrible as murder, so I’m fairly confident she won’t be arrested. But until the real murderer is identified, people will talk and rumors will fly. It’s hurting her badly, Brady. She might lose her livelihood because of it.
“I’m sure the police are doing their job,” she said. “But my thinking is that I could possibly pick up tidbits that the police would miss, simply because a person might be more comfortable talking to me about a particular topic rather than the police. Or someone might be careless about what they say around me and drop an important clue. If that happens, I intend to pass what I learn on to the police.”
Brady appeared satisfied with that, and Lia turned to her dinner, having noticed that Brady’s plate had been polished.
By the time they left together—Brady taking along a wrapped Danish for later—Lia felt she and Brady knew each other a little better. As far as she could tell, Hayley’s interest in him was as a friend, and that was fine, her decision, and—who knew?—possibly subject to change. But Lia was pretty sure that Crandalsburg had lucked out when he’d joined their police force. All in all, it had been a very productive dinner.
* * *
* * *
Lia had just returned home when she got a call from Tracy.
“Remember I said something about the wife of Adam Mathis rang a bell? It came to me.”
Lia set the leftovers box she’d been holding onto the dining room table and pulled out a chair to sit, disturbing Daphne, who’d been dozing on the opposite chair. “What was it?” she asked.
“I remembered who she was. Is,” Tracy corrected.
“And that is . . . ?”
“She’s a Bearden.”
“A what?”
Tracy laughed. “Not a what. A who. The Beardens own those Under a Buck stores you see all over the place.”
“They do? Well, I guess someone has to own them. So they’re fairly well-off, I take it?”
Tracy chuckled. “You could say so. Their stores might be all about saving pennies, but I doubt any of them even know what a penny is. Or even a buck. They deal in millions. Maybe billions.”
“Okay, so what does that make Eva?”
“Most likely an heiress. That’s why she and her husband keep showing up at all those charity functions, like the one I found online with their photo. The family does a fair amount of philanthropy. It’s probably good for business.”
“So how did an heiress end up with Adam Mathis?”
“Good question. I gather she’s not the brightest bulb in the Bearden tulip patch; otherwise she might be more active in the family business. But who knows? Adam’s not exactly a pauper, right? Is he also a charmer?”
“I don’t know. Belinda called him a snake, but that had more to do with his business practices.”
“People show different sides of themselves when they want to, don’t they? And I don’t know anything about the Bearden family or their business ethics. None of them are in prison, so I guess that says something. Well, I just wanted to share that info about Eva. Interesting, huh?”
“It definitely is,” Lia said. And what it meant as far as Adam Mathis, Darren Peebles, their partnered real estate–developing firm, and Darren’s murder could be even more interesting.
Chapter 23
Lia mulled over Tracy’s information as she slipped her take-home box from Marie’s into the refrigerator. Belinda hadn’t said anything about Eva’s moneyed connections. Instead, she’d implied that Eva depended on her husband, Adam, for her various luxuries. Surely Belinda must have kno
wn. Or would she? The two women hadn’t exactly been friends. Polite acquaintances sounded more like it, and perhaps Adam wanted his wife’s personal wealth kept private. It could have been a matter of ego for him to give the impression it was his own business success that supported their lifestyle.
Another thought came to her. If Darren was actually having an affair with Eva, it would have given Adam a greater motive for murder if he feared Eva—and her money—would be leaving him for Darren.
Lia wanted to meet Adam. How should she do that? She couldn’t just show up at his office and say, “I have a few questions.” There had to be a better way. She grabbed her phone and called Belinda. It rang several times, then went to voice mail.
“Call me,” Lia said. She disconnected and almost immediately got a text. That was fast, she thought, until she saw the text was from Hayley. Her daughter didn’t waste any words.
Check out fair FB page. Now!
What in the world? Puzzled, Lia launched her browser and tapped her way to the Crandalsburg Craft Fair Facebook page. On previous visits, she’d found the page filled with announcements of upcoming sales or new items added to a vendor’s offerings. In other words, innocuous, informative, and friendly. The first post at the top was none of those, and the poster was Joan Fowler.
Why do I keep running a booth at the Crandalsburg Craft Fair? I’ve stayed out of consideration for the loyal followers of my artwork, but it’s getting to be too much! The heavy cloud of suspicion that hangs over the entire fair, the constant worry that I might be next if I speak up about the disastrous mismanagement! I don’t know how much longer I can do this.
Good heavens! Lia had barely absorbed the horror of the post before another text from Hayley appeared.
She’s on Twitter now!
Lia switched over to Twitter and navigated her way to Joan Fowler’s tweet.
Faithful fans, tell me where I can take my artwork. The Crandalsburg Craft Fair is no longer a good place for me to be. An artist needs to feel welcomed and SAFE to create beauty. I’m feeling neither.
Had Joan lost her mind? Lia tried to reach Belinda again, but that call also went to voice mail. She didn’t have a phone number for Joan, but she messaged her privately on Facebook to please give her a call. She didn’t have high hopes it would happen, but she had to try.
Lia then texted Hayley to call. When she didn’t get a quick response, Lia went back to her kitchen to scrub at her countertops, deciding that she might as well put her agitation to good use. By the time her counters shone, she felt calmer and headed back to the living room, picking up Daphne for a cuddle. She’d just settled in her knitting chair when Hayley replied to her text.
Can’t talk now. Tomorrow—promise!
Okay. So that was that. Lia set Daphne down and picked up the alpaca sweater to work on, the best thing in the world for her to settle the last of the agitation that Joan’s horrid social media posts had stirred. The next day they’d all be back at the craft fair, and the problem would have to be worked out between Belinda and Joan.
* * *
* * *
When Lia showed up at the Schumacher barn on Sunday morning, the place was buzzing. Word had spread among the vendors who’d seen Joan’s posts and those who hadn’t. Joan’s booth was unmanned, but her paintings remained. For how much longer remained to be seen.
Lia went straight to Belinda’s office and tried the door after a quick knock. It was locked. She stared at the door in disbelief.
“She’s not in yet,” a male voice behind her said. Lia turned to see the fair’s security guard, Bill Landry, walking over. “She called and asked me to unlock the barn for the vendors. Said she was running late.”
“Did she say why?”
“Nope, just that she’d be in soon.”
“Okay, thanks, Bill.” Lia left, feeling uneasy, but got busy readying her booth.
Maggie left her quilts to come over. “You saw the tweets?”
“I saw one last night.” Lia set down the sweater she’d been folding. “Were there more?”
“Oh yes.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “Joan went on quite a rampage.”
Lia groaned. “I thought she might. I couldn’t bear to look. This is so awful—for the entire craft fair! Why did she do it?”
“Who knows what goes through that woman’s mind? It’s a shame. Joan’s been an important draw for the fair. But she’s not worth the trouble she causes. Let her go and good riddance, I say. We’ll survive. Who knows how many of our fair regulars actually see those posts.”
“Joan continued the rants on her own Facebook page,” Olivia said, leaning over the scented soaps on her counter.
“Did she? Then plenty of people must have seen them, along with her Twitter followers,” Lia said.
“She’s not in yet,” Maggie said. “Wonder if she’ll show up.”
“I wouldn’t if I were her,” Olivia said. “But I wouldn’t have said those hateful things, either.”
“Belinda’s going to be late,” Lia said. “If Joan’s smart, she’ll pack up her stuff and clear out before Belinda arrives.”
“That would be best for everyone,” Maggie said. “We don’t need a big dustup in front of whatever meager crowd might still show up. But knowing those two . . .” She raised her eyebrows and shook her head before returning to her quilts booth.
Lia saw the worry on Olivia’s face. “Nothing like that’ll happen,” she assured her. “I’ll catch Belinda as soon as she comes in and talk to her.” Olivia seemed to relax, but Lia wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to calm her friend. Belinda hadn’t responded to her calls and might have been too steamed. Her coming in late wasn’t a good sign.
Bill Landry opened the main doors of the craft barn and a few shoppers straggled in. Joan still hadn’t shown up. Belinda, either, though Lia kept a sharp eye out for her as she knitted. Finally the craft fair manager appeared, looking predictably unhappy. Lia popped up from her chair, signaled Olivia to watch over her booth, and followed Belinda to her office.
“This isn’t the best time,” Belinda growled as she unlocked her door.
“I know you’re upset.”
“Darned right I am. And she’s going to get an earful from me.” Belinda stomped into her office but left the door open behind her. Lia stepped in and closed it.
“You can’t do that,” Lia said. “At least not while the fair’s going on. Joan’s done enough damage as it is.”
Belinda stared at Lia. “How does dragging me out for nothing last night damage the fair?”
“What are you talking about?” Lia asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Joan’s horrible tweets and Facebook posts.”
“Huh?” Belinda looked genuinely confused.
“You didn’t see them?” Lia stared back at her. “Then what are you upset about?
“I’m steamed because Joan asked me to meet her last night, then never showed.”
“What?”
“I know. Her call surprised me, too. I mean, coming out of the blue like that. And it was getting late. But she said she wanted me to meet someone who had some great ideas for pumping up the craft fair attendance to what it had been. So of course I said yes. I mean, why not? But she and this someone never showed! And never called to let me know what was up. She just left me at that stupid coffee shop to twiddle my thumbs and feel like an idiot.”
Lia was flabbergasted and at a loss for something to say. Finally she asked, “So you didn’t see the tweets?”
“What tweets?”
Lia quoted what she could remember and braced for the reaction.
Belinda’s face reddened as the veins in her neck pulsed rapidly. “What the hell!” she shouted. “Where is she? I’ll kill her!”
“Keep your voice down,” Lia urged. “
I know, it’s terrible. Joan hasn’t come in. Obviously she’s leaving the fair, and those were her parting shots.”
Belinda grabbed her phone and jabbed at the screen. “She can hide,” she said as she put the phone to her ear, “but she’s still gonna get a piece of my mind.” Apparently her call went to voice mail. Belinda slammed the phone down hard enough to make Lia flinch and fear for its survival.
“For what it’s worth,” Lia said, “I think this storm will pass. You’ll be well rid of a vendor who turns on you like this.”
“Oh, I’ll be rid of her; that’s for sure.” Belinda slumped back in her chair, looking deflated. “But the damage is done. I don’t know, Lia. This might mean the end for me.”
“Surely not.”
Belinda shook her head. “The craft fair can’t keep going like this. People are staying away. And it won’t be long before my vendors take off, too. My reputation is shot, and because of that the craft fair’s is, too.”
“I don’t believe that,” Lia said. “A few negative tweets and Facebook posts by an obviously disgruntled person can’t destroy an event thousands of people have loved for years.”
“But there’s Darren’s murder.” Tears had sprung to Belinda’s eyes, stabbing at Lia’s heart. Her friend habitually hid her feelings so fiercely that any sign of them spoke volumes.
“We’ll take care of that, I promise you,” Lia said. “We’re getting closer. My friend Tracy gave me information just last night about Eva Mathis, which might lead somewhere. Did you know she’s from an extremely wealthy family?”
“Eva?” Belinda swiped at a stray tear. “Really?”
Lia explained about Eva’s connection to the Under a Buck stores. Seeing that was news to Belinda, Lia continued. “For me, that gives Adam Mathis another motive for doing away with Darren. If Eva was in fact having an affair with Darren, and if she left Adam, she’d be taking her money with her.”
“Huh,” Belinda huffed. “You could be right. And the more I thought about it, the more I believe there really was an affair, freaky though it seems.”
A Wicked Yarn Page 14