by Sandi Scott
“If the food you served at the wedding rehearsal dinner is typical, I don't need to speak to any references. I can't even remember when I've had a meal that good, if I ever did! I think we can definitely work together. In fact, we have a holiday event coming up a few weeks from now, and I know that my office manager hasn't hired a caterer yet. I'd like to have her speak with you about the refreshments for that. She's out on vacation this week, but she should be back early next week, if that would work for you.”
Patty assured him that the schedule would be fine, and that they would look forward to speaking with the woman. “We'll draw up a few sample menus, in the meantime, to show her what we can do for you.” They thanked him for his time and left the office.
“What do you think?” Ashley asked as she drove the van out of the parking lot. “Is he a murderer?”
“I don't think so,” Patty said. “I mean, I know Royce Starling could be putting on an act, that he could be fooling us both, but he seems sincerely upset, and it doesn't sound like he really had a motive. He also claims that he can prove where he was when Howard was killed, meaning that he didn't have the opportunity either. Although,” Patty paused considering, “I guess he could have paid someone to kill Howard. He obviously has the money for it, but, somehow, this doesn't have the feel of a professional hit. I mean, it was really risky to kill him with that many people around, and I don't think knocking someone on the head and dragging him to a pond shows the kind of planning a professional would do! I don't think we really have to consider means for this one. Almost anyone could have knocked the man down and held his head underwater while he was disoriented. What Starling showed us could be regret for killing his friend, instead of grief, but it just doesn't feel like that. No, I have to say that I don't think he's the killer.”
“I don't think he is, either,” Ashley said. “I definitely got the impression that Starling truly is grieving, and I believed him when he said he didn't know why anyone would want to kill Howard Andrews.” She laughed a little. “If he stayed in business with the man for forty years without strangling him before this, I can't see any reason for him to do it now!”
“So, where does that leave your investigation?” Patty asked. “Who's left on your suspect list?”
“Not a soul,” Ashley said. “I mean, I think we have to keep Starling and Cash on the list, just because we don't have any definitive evidence to rule them out, but I think they go on the back burner. Which leaves my investigation completely stalled, and me totally frustrated.”
“Something will come to you,” Patty reassured her. “You've gotten pretty good at this sleuthing thing. You'll think of something.”
“Well, I hope you're right,” Ashley replied. “Robin needs closure, and, from what she's said, I don't think Detective Luna is any further along than we are. Something has to shake loose, or this case could go cold.”
She dropped Patty back at her car at the kitchen, and then arranged to meet earlier the next morning. After all, they had food to prep for an anniversary dinner, funeral meal, and wedding reception.
When she and Dizzy got home, Ashley slipped into her pajamas and checked the refrigerator for something for dinner, finally settling on cheese, crackers, and a half-pint of ice cream. She settled in on the couch with Dizzy snuggled close beside her and only mooching the occasional piece of cheese. She picked up her copy of Murder in the Art Gallery, the first book in a new cozy mystery series, and let the adventures of Georgie, Aleta, and Stan distract her from her problems. As captivating as the story was, though, it wasn't long before the stress of the day overwhelmed her, and she and Dizzy were sleeping soundly.
CHAPTER NINE
“Good morning, Ashley,” Patty sang out as Ashley and Dizzy came into Seagrass Sweets. “How was your evening? You look a lot more rested than you did yesterday.”
Ashley laughed. “I think I must be showing my age. Dizzy and I went to bed really early last night after a supper of cheddar cheese sticks, Ritz crackers, and Blue Bell Butter Crunch ice cream. I finally got to start reading that new mystery novel I've had for three weeks. Dizzy was snoring from supper until I fell asleep before 9 o'clock—pretty early for a night owl!”
“You've had a few stressful days lately,” Patty commented. “You deserved—and must have needed—a night for yourself. And ice cream for supper? That's the perfect indulgence, especially that flavor! I mean, what could be better than chocolate and crispy peanut butter candy mixed into Blue Bell vanilla?”
“It was just the treat I needed, for sure, and it was so yummy!” Ashley laughed. “So, with Robin's wedding postponed until after Howard Andrews' funeral, what's on our agenda for today? I know we need to plan the food for after the funeral and for the wedding reception, but is there anything else pressing?”
They checked the scheduling whiteboard to see that, in addition to funeral foods, they needed to prepare rolls for the anniversary dinner and to bake several batches of cookies for some women's groups that were meeting during the next week. They decided that the new soufflé recipe Ashley was working on would be perfect for the McCoveys as well. Ashley started on a batch of oatmeal scotchies bars while Patty kneaded bread dough for the funeral sandwiches.
By the time the oatmeal bars, tea cakes, and snickerdoodles were out of the oven, the bread had risen for the final time so Patty popped it in to bake. Just as they began to pull out ingredients for the sandwich fillings—they were planning on a roast beef spread, a ham salad spread, and the traditional Southern pimiento cheese spread—Ashley's phone sounded to indicate that she had an incoming text.
Can't get away. Dash at vet. Pick him up? The message was from Ryan.
Sure, no prob. Ashley texted back. “Hey, Patty,” she said, “I need to pick Ryan's puppy up at the vet's office. I'll be back in a few. I'm leaving Dizzy here, if that's okay? I shouldn't be gone more than 30 minutes or so.”
“That's fine,” Patty answered. “But why is Dash at the vet? That dog is definitely well-named, the way he dashes around like crazy. Does he ever go anywhere without running full tilt? He's okay, right—nothing serious?”
“Yeah, it was neutering time, and Dash's ready to go home now,” Ashley answered. “Ryan's swamped and can't go pick him up. Do you need anything from anywhere while I'm out?” She didn't stop walking toward the door as she asked the question over her shoulder. Hearing her partner answer, “No,” Ashley said goodbye to Dizzy and headed out.
“Dash isn't in the best mood,” the veterinary tech told Ashley when she arrived at the animal hospital. “I don't think he'll be as unhappy with you as he is with us, though. Pretty likely he'll be glad to leave here with you. He’ll likely be sleepy for a while and you’ll want to help him take it easy.”
Ashley laughed. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn't be his favorite people today. Hopefully, he'll behave until I can turn him over to Ryan.” The tech led the puppy out from the rear treatment area and clipped a leash on the dog's collar. Ashley couldn’t help but feel bad for Dash, who seemed to know how funny he looked wearing a big cone around his head. She thanked the staff and took the pup out to her car.
“Are you ready to see your buddy Dizzy?” Ashley said to the little dog, glancing into the rearview mirror. “She's excited about the chance for an unexpected play date.” Dash raised his eyes and gently thumped his tail against the seat a single time, but didn’t bark has he normally would. Poor little fella. The safety harness had fit awkwardly around the cone and Dash just looked so sad that Ashley had decided to leave it off. He was probably going to be sleeping in a minute anyway.
The bright sunshine, high humidity, and warm weather made the car a little stuffy, so Ashley rolled the back windows down to give them both some fresh air. Then, instead of driving straight back to the shop, she took a longer, more meandering route, using the time to think more about the case. As she pulled to a stop sign, she realized that she was at the corner in front of Estes Mount. Just then, Dash jumped out of one of the open windows and, li
ving up to his name, tore off across Chantelle Roth's lawn, cone and all.
“Dash, come back here,” Ashley called out as she pulled to the curb and parked the car. Great, she thought. Of all the places for him to choose to run loose, he has to go into the unbalanced lady's yard. Ashley ran after the dog, calling out for him to stop as she ran. She finally caught up with him in Chantelle's backyard and grabbed him up to carry him back to the car, fussing at him as she walked in that direction.
“You there!” a voice shouted. “What are you doing in my yard? You're trespassing! Are you casing the place for a break-in later? Wait—I've seen you before. Who are you, and what do you think you're doing?”
“No, of course I'm not 'casing the place!'” Ashley exclaimed, wondering why the woman would jump to such a wild conclusion. “I'm sorry, Ms. Roth. This puppy jumped out of my car, and I was trying to catch him before he got into anything or got lost. I think he was chasing a squirrel or something. He’s just a puppy so he isn't fully trained yet.”
“A likely story!” the huffy woman continued shouting even though by then she was standing less than four feet away from Ashley and Dash. “I know how you people work. You and that rich, snobby friend of yours probably cooked this up just to disturb and annoy me. I don't know why you think you are above the law, but you need to get off my property right now, and you need to do it without making so much noise. It's bad enough that my clients have to hear the noise from that horrible place next door, all day and half the night, but there's no excuse for you disturbing the peace with all that barking and shouting.”
“I'm very sorry, and I can promise you that I'm not conspiring with anyone to bother you,” Ashley said, gritting her teeth and not giving in to the temptation to suggest that Chantelle was making a lot more noise than the puppy barking and Ashley calling him had done “We were on our way to the car when you stopped us. We're leaving. Please accept our apologies for bothering you. As I said, I'm afraid the puppy doesn't understand the problem, but I'll take him home now.”
Glaring at Ashley, but not speaking further, the massage therapist stomped back into her house, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the door knocker several times.
“Wow, Dash,” Ashley said, “that's one intense, paranoid woman. It's hard to believe getting a massage from her would be very relaxing with that much anger pouring off her. I bet her blood pressure is off the charts. Oh, well, let's get going. Patty and Dizzy are waiting for us. And you'd better behave yourself this time—no more jumping out of the car or running away from me, mister!”
The puppy licked Ashley's face and then wiggled as he wagged his tail gleefully. She was pretty sure she shouldn't take his response as agreement or a promise to be good!
“Ashley!” As the pair reached the sidewalk, someone called out to them. Turning, she saw Graham waving at her. She joined him on the beautiful front porch where he was checking the planter boxes and hanging baskets of begonias, petunias, and ferns.
“Hey, girl, how's it going?” Graham asked. “Who's your friend there? And how's Patty?”
“We're both doing well, Graham,” Ashley answered. “It's been a little slow because we hadn't booked many jobs so we could concentrate on the rehearsal dinner. We'll still need to handle the funeral and wedding now, but this week is light. I'm not complaining, though. The break is kinda nice, especially after the way the rehearsal ended. Oh, and this is Dash, Ryan's puppy. I just picked him up from the vet's office.”
“Yeah, slow times are nice as long as they don't last too long,” Graham replied, shaking his head. “News travels fast in Seagrass, as in most small towns, and the word about Howard Andrews being murdered here has not been good for business. I don't mean to sound insensitive—of course his death is a tragedy on its own, and I'm very sorry that it happened—but we still need to keep the business going, and it will be tough if things don't pick up again soon. Too many more cancellations, and we'll be in trouble.”
“That's a shame,” Ashley said, “but you know small towns, once the funeral is over, talk will die down. And once the killer is arrested, you'll have all the morbidly curious people booking events, just so they can say they partied where it happened. After that, things will settle back down to normal.”
“You're probably right,” Graham acknowledged. “In fact, the reasons folks have given for the cancellations wouldn't raise any questions if the timing wasn't so close to the murder. It's just hard not to worry. I love this place, and I want to see it succeed—and not just for the money—I think we really do contribute to making the town a great place to celebrate, and I want to be able to keep doing it.”
As they chatted, Ashley noticed Chantelle watching them from between the curtains on a window at the side of her house. “Graham, what can you tell me about your neighbor? Dash was a little naughty. He jumped out of the car and ran into her backyard. She went ballistic because she said I was 'disturbing the peace' when I was calling the little rascal. She even accused me of planning to burglarize the place and purposefully disturbing her and her clients in the meantime!”
“That doesn't surprise me,” Graham replied. “And, before I answer your question, there's no way you were disturbing anyone or anything, other than the wicked witch of the neighborhood. I could barely hear you, and I was standing here on the porch. If I'd been inside, there's no chance that I would have ever known you were out here.”
He turned and, putting on a faked neighborly smile, waved at Chantelle, who was peeking out the window at the side of her house. They saw her snap the heavy drapes across the window. Graham laughed and then said, “I guess I shouldn't deliberately antagonize her, but it's so easy to get a rise out of her that the kid in me sneaks out to taunt her now and then. She has been unhappy since Estes Mount opened. She's called the law several times, complaining about noise, including the very first day we were here—when there were no guests and only two other staff members even on the property! Every single time, the deputies have told us—and her—that the guests were not making too much noise. The last time, Sheriff Mueller himself came out, and he told her that he was going to charge her if she didn't stop making frivolous reports. I don't know if he could really charge her with anything, but she must have believed him because she's gone almost a month without calling. No one here has ever been any louder than a neighborhood barbecue would be, and my staff and I always make sure that no one parties outside after 11 o'clock at night. I think she just doesn't want another business operating on the same block.”
“That's not very neighborly of her, is it?” Ashley asked, teasing the venue manager.
“Shoot, Chantelle doesn't know the meaning of the word,” Graham replied, “I even tried to make a deal with her in an attempt to patch things up. We offer massages as a part of one of our wedding packages, and I was willing to throw that part of the business her way instead of bringing a massage therapist in from out of town. I thought that the extra business that she didn't have to drum up herself might smooth things over, at least a little, but she was adamantly and nastily against even considering it. I've given up on figuring out what her problem is or how to fix it.”
“I can see why,” Ashley agreed. “Hey, Graham, would you mind if I look around in the garden area for a minute?”
“Not at all,” Graham said. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“No, just getting a better picture in my mind,” Ashley said. “Some of our catering jobs are for events to be held back there, and I'd like to get a feel for the colors so I can fit the food to the venue. You know, maybe serving pink cookies because they complement the roses or not serving red ones around a lot of orange-colored blossoms—stuff like that. And I know that you guys usually provide the table settings and decorations here, but there might be times when we'd need to do it, so I'd like to know a little more about what's out there.”
Graham looked at her like he questioned her sanity, but he finally laughed. “Sure, go ahead. I don't know what you're really up
to, but I’ve heard from the police that you’re a pretty good amateur sleuth, and I'm sure that you have a good reason for asking. I need to head inside to prepare for a meeting with a potential client but take your time and look around anywhere you want. If I don't see you before you leave, I'll talk to you at the funeral reception and at the wedding, whenever those events happen.”
Ashley thanked him and walked through the parking area first. She found the spot in the parking lot where Cash said he was smoking, and there were still a few cigarette butts there. Well, I guess I can cross Cash off the suspect list for sure now, she thought. I didn't really think he killed Howard, but it looks like he does have an alibi. Then she went into the backyard of the old home to look around the back gazebo and koi pond, but she didn't see anything helpful for solving the case.
“Okay, Dash,” Ashley called to the puppy. “Let's head back to the shop and pick up Dizzy. If I know Patty, she's finished up everything else that we needed to prepare today so we can all go home a little early.”
CHAPTER TEN
Ashley pulled into the driveway in front of her cottage. She took a minute to appreciate the graceful lines and paint colors that looked like they came straight from the garden at Estes Mount. She loved how cozy and inviting it looked, especially with the wooden rocking chairs that she'd painted in a patchwork pattern just waiting on the front porch for guests.
“C'mon, Dash and Dizzy,” Ashley called as the dogs jumped from the car and sprinted across the lawn. “It's into the backyard for the two of you. I have things to do inside, and I can't do them with the two of you underfoot.”
Dizzy stopped and looked back at her, head cocked to one side. “Woof!” she barked at the puppy scampering toward the neighbor's house. Dash came running back to Dizzy's side at the call. Both dogs followed Ashley through the house and into the backyard where they started a new game of tag.