Strawberries and Sweet Lies
Page 5
After staring for a moment at the empty porch, then mounting the stairs and peering in the house, Al gave the door a few sharp raps with his knuckles. He finally descended the stairs again, and turned his eyes toward the dock. At first, nothing could be seen but the placid lake surface reflecting blue sky and puffy cumulus clouds, but then Smudge started barking short, sharp yaps, staring straight out into the lake, her hackles raised.
They all strained to see what Smudge was seeing, and after a few moments, while Smudge continued to bark and yap, they made out a small boat rowing towards them. As they watched, the boat grew larger the nearer it came, and Smudge kept up her complaint.
“That’s him, Grant Woodard, my aunt’s… well… boyfriend, I guess,” Claire said grimly.
The man in the boat continued to row while Melody tried to reassure Smudge and get her to stop vocalizing. But nothing worked; the dog was not having it.
When the man, Grant, finally pulled up to the dock, Alvin was there to meet him, the women staying further back to let the sheriff do his job.
“Are you Grant Woodard?”
“Yes, I am,” Grant answered, looking from Alvin to the three women to Amelia’s dog.
“Do you have any information as to the whereabouts of Amelia Reed?” Alvin asked in a loud, firm voice.
Grant stood up in the boat, jumping over to the dock and tying the craft quickly up to a post. He was lean and over six feet tall with a graying crew cut that enhanced the startling steely blue-gray eyes. His clean-shaven face, though weathered, retained a rugged handsomeness, and Melody could see why Amelia had found him attractive. Weirdly, however, he was wearing a long, gray trench coat, even though the weather was balmy. Maybe out on the lake, the breeze was colder Mel reasoned, though the lake’s glass surface belied her wind theory. The coat gave him the ominous look of a villainous spy, but Mel tried not to have preconceived notions about the man, in spite of his wardrobe choice and Claire’s negative report.
The sheriff repeated the missing Amelia question to the man. He scratched his close-cropped head, shrugged and took his time answering.
“She went for a walk yesterday morning and never returned,” he stated. “I waited up for her all night long, and called and texted her cell phone multiple times, but she never answered.”
“And you didn’t think to report her as a missing person?” Alvin demanded incredulously. “What did you think happened to her?”
“Frankly, I don’t know,” he answered. “But she’s a grown woman with a lot of business obligations, so she could be tied up with that.”
Alvin and the three women stared at him speechlessly, and Melody could hear Kerry grumbling under her breath, “What is wrong with this guy?”
“What were you doing out on the water, Mr. Woodard?” Alvin demanded.
“Rowing. I take my exercise this way every morning,”
“Even though your fiancée is missing?” Al shot back.
“Well, we don’t know for sure she’s missing. Like I said, she has lots of business dealings and a lot of responsibilities. She could be in any number of places,” Grant insisted.
Kerry mumbled again, “Wow. I would hate to be engaged to that deadbeat.”
“Sir, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you in for questioning. Will you come quietly, or do I need to cuff you?” Alvin’s voice was steely, and once again, Melody found herself admiring Alvin’s command of the situation. There was no sign of a whipped puppy now.
Grant raised his hands peaceably. “No problem, Sheriff. I’ll come quietly.”
As the two men walked off the dock towards the house, Smudge’s growl grew in volume the nearer Grant stepped toward her. Finally, after he passed and the men walked to the patrol car, she finally quieted.
The three women followed at a distance, but not too far back so they could overhear Grant say, “Sheriff, if you want to know what happened to Amelia, you need to look no further than one Leslie Mathers, and that’s all I have to say about that.”
He looked back at the women; his lips clamped shut in a severe line.
“What was that about, do you think?” Melody directed her question to Claire, once Alvin had Grant in the back seat of the cruiser and had started it up.
“I have no idea, other than he’s trying to put the scent on someone else. I have no doubt he’s guilty. I don’t care how many names he throws out there,” Claire adamantly stated.
Once the women were loaded into Melody’s car, Kerry asked Claire what her plans were for the rest of the day.
“Mel and I just have a wedding cake to deliver,” Kerry said. “But then we’re free. Are you heading home, wherever that is, today?”
It seemed to take a great effort for Claire to speak. “I live east of Port Warren, about two hours inland. A town called Geneva. I didn’t know I wouldn’t find my aunt, so I’ll get a room for the night and think about what to do next. I can’t believe Aunt Amelia is gone!” Her last sentence dissolved into full-on weeping, and Kerry put her arm around Claire.
“How about Melody and I here get you settled at the Port Warren Bed and Breakfast? We know the owner, Maud Johnson, and she’s wonderful. It’s a great place and super reasonable,” Kerry said.
Melody nodded her agreement as she drove but found it hard to pay close attention to the other women’s conversation; there were just too many thoughts whirling around in her mind.
“I left my car parked across from your bakery,” Claire said, “and I have a packed bag in the trunk as I assumed I would stay overnight with my aunt today.”
So, Mel swung by Claire’s car. She insisted on retrieving her bag and driving her over to the B & B, and Claire seemed too distraught and fragile for driving. The B & B was within walking distance, as was most of Warren’s businesses, therefore Claire could retrieve her own car in the morning—once she decided on her next course of action.
Both Mel and Kerry accompanied Claire into Maud’s lodging, and introduced the two women to each other. They both knew Claire would be well looked after, so they left her with the promise they would contact her the following day. As they drove toward Decadent, Kerry remarked, “There’s definitely something fishy about all this mess.”
Melody heartily agreed.
She sighed at the thought. “I know.”
Chapter Thirteen
Melody and Kerry spent the early afternoon delivering and setting up the wedding cake for Jeanette Foster. It took them a couple of hours to get everything just right, then they left with liberal best wishes for the glowing bride and her groom.
Once they returned to Decadent, Melody and Kerry logged into Facebook, ran a quick search and found Leslie Mather’s profile conveniently open to the public. She was a tiny, exotic-looking woman, with black eyes and a coordinating pixie cut.
According to her profile stats, she was thirty-five-years-old, a member of International Bird Rescue, and a Big Sister of Big Brothers and Sisters. Feeling like creepers, Melody and Kerry justified their voyeurism in light of Amelia’s disappearance. Suddenly, Kerry noticed a status change. “Hey, look, she just checked into the Gilded Cup!” The Cup, a coffee shop with a hipster vibe, was just a mile north of them.
Minutes later, the two women and Smudge exited the car, and immediately recognized Leslie from her profile photo, seated outside on the coffee shop’s veranda, reading a newspaper, as she sipped from a paper coffee cup. She had on a long, black sundress with racy slits up the sides, black wedge sandals, but no jewelry. Her look was simple and refreshing.
As Mel and Kerry approached, Leslie looked up and gave a little cry of delight, calling, “Luna! What are you doing here, girl?”
Smudge yapped happily, jumped on Leslie’s lap and began excitedly licking her face.
Mel turned to Kerry, and they both exclaimed, “So that’s Smudge’s real name!”
Melody and Kerry introduced themselves as Leslie petted and hugged Smudge, and when Smudge finally calmed down, both women tag-teamed the story of t
he missing Amelia and how they came to have “Luna” in their possession.
“Oh no!” Leslie cried, her hand flying up to her mouth. Her face grew white as tears filled her eyes. “I can’t believe it! I love Amelia, and worked for her ever since she moved here, but we haven’t been in contact since I…well, since I was let go. I used to be her maid until something happened, and I could no longer work there.”
Mel and Kerry watched her, not sure how to broach the delicate subject of Leslie’s firing.
Leslie sighed as her face reddened. “There’s no use hiding it from you, but there was an incident I was involved in a few weeks ago now. I… well, I took some silverware from her, and was caught, and really, Amelia had no choice but to fire me; I would have done the same if our positions were reversed.”
“Are you sure you don’t bear her any resentment for dismissing you?” Mel asked carefully, trying to be as tactful as possible.
“Yeah—did you have anything to do with her disappearance?” Kerry burst in, with her typical bull-in-the-china-shop approach. Melody cringed but gave Kerry silent kudos for cutting to the chase.
“Of course, not!” a shocked Leslie exclaimed.
“But why should we believe you’re telling the truth?” Kerry asked, crossing her arms. “Not to be rude, but you are a criminal, after all.”
Leslie looked down at Smudge who snoozed contentedly on her lap, and picked at a fingernail. “I know I am, but it was the first and only time I have ever, ever done anything like that, you have to believe me!”
“Why did you do it?” Melody gently asked.
“My grandpa was hospitalized for kidney failure, and he and my gran were in danger of losing their house to creditors. I was beside myself trying to find some way to help them out financially, and in a moment of stupid desperation, I took some silver, and then attempted to pawn it, I was going to get it back. It was a fiasco, and the pawnshop only offered me a tenth of what that silver is worth. I tried to take it back, but Amelia had already discovered it missing, and felt that even though I had changed my mind, I had betrayed her and broken her trust.” Tears streamed down her tanned face. “I would do anything to set the clock back and get a do-over, but it’s too late now, and I lost the best job I ever had, as well as a friendship.” Here she indicated the newspaper. “I’m still searching the want ads, but I haven’t found another job, probably because none of them are even comparable to what I had with Amelia.” Fresh tears sprouted.
“We are helping the sheriff with this case,” Melody explained. “And I’m sure he’d be very interested in talking to you as you were a witness to her relationship with Grant.”
Leslie’s expression changed from sad to inscrutable, and she looked away from the other two. “I don’t know,” she said, “I really don’t want to stir up any more trouble than I already have. I think it’s best if I stay out of it, with what happened and all.”
“You don’t want to help find Amelia?” Kerry demanded. “Why? It seems to me it’s the least you could do after what you did!”
Leslie resumed looking down at her lap and petting the snoozing Smudge.
“I just can’t afford to put myself in a further awkward position while I’m trying to rebuild my life. I’m sorry.”
Melody jumped in and let her off the hook, worried that Kerry would try to drag Leslie into the car by her hair. “Okay, we’ll respect your decision.” Kerry stared at Melody, and then glared at Leslie, affronted that Melody would be so soft on a known thief, but she deferred to her boss, and resorted to griping under her breath.
“C’mon, Smudge, let’s go.” Instantly awake, Smudge hopped down from Leslie’s lap to follow her.
“I’m really sorry I can’t help, and I’m especially sorry Amelia is missing,” Leslie said, her face a mask of sadness.
“Sure, you are,” muttered Kerry as she, Mel and Smudge bid Leslie goodbye and walked toward the veranda’s stairs.
“Hold it,” Kerry stopped.
Melody groaned, sure her partner was about to turn back and question Leslie further.
“I can’t believe I almost walked out of a coffee shop emptyhanded!”
Melody laughed at her. “Go. And no, I don’t need anything. Smudge and I will wait for you out in the car.”
While she waited, Melody pondered their encounter with Amelia’s former maid. She was sure that she knew more than she had been willing to share, but not sure why she had been so tight-lipped.
Melody watched Kerry practically skip back to the car, a lidded venti cup in hand, her good mood restored.
Melody spoke preemptively, “I know you think I let her off too easily, but I think if we would have pressed too hard, she might have become paranoid and fled town. Let’s just go back and tell Alvin everything and that way he can call her in for questions if he feels the need to.”
“Okay,” Kerry answered cheerfully, “But that one knows more than she’s lettin’ on.”
Mel nodded, but kept quiet, savoring the rare moment of peace as Kerry blissfully sipped her brew.
Chapter Fourteen
Back at the police station, before the two women could brief Alvin on their meeting with Leslie, he invited them to take a seat in his office. The somber look on his face silenced their story and they waited mutely for him to speak.
He cleared his throat. “I interviewed Grant and he didn’t budge from his version of events. Since we have nothing on him, I released him, advising him to stick close to the lake house in case I have further questions.” He stopped, cleared his throat again, and spoke much more gently, “And our next step is to drag the lake for Amelia’s body.”
Both women drew in sharp breaths at this macabre news. Mel felt so much sadness at the thought of the beautiful, accomplished Amelia, drifting lifelessly somewhere at the bottom of the lake.
Then she shook herself, and began to relate their morning conversation with Leslie Mathers and Kerry chimed in now and then with extra details.
The sheriff congratulated them both on their resourcefulness. Mel tried to quash the unexpected pleasure she felt as a result of Al’s praise, but Kerry had no such reticence. She visibly swelled, holding herself regally, remarking, “it really was no big deal; you just have to know where to look.”
Mel hid a smile, and she was pretty sure Alvin’s stifled cough covered a chuckle.
“Well, now that you’ve begun the conversation, I will follow up with Ms. Mathers. I promise you both that I will leave no stone unturned in pursuit of the truth of Amelia’s disappearance.”
The women thanked him and rose to leave. Once again, he shook each of their hands, giving Mel’s an extra-long, gentle squeeze, which she found she was beginning to enjoy in spite of herself.
They decided to return to the shop to make sure everything was put away and ready for Monday morning, which didn’t take long. After their chores, Mel suggested taking the cooped up, antsy Smudge for a quick walk as well as maybe get their own crime-solving creative juices flowing. Mel clipped the leash on Smudge, and both amateur sleuths briskly started off.
“You know,” Mel began, “it’s possible that Grant or Leslie truly didn’t have anything to do with Amelia’s disappearance.”
“Why do they both appear so guilty, though?” Kerry countered. “If I didn’t do it, I would just say so and have proof to back it up. Both acted shady as the dickens, like they were hiding something.” A sudden thought struck her. “Maybe they’re in cahoots!”
“Or maybe it’s someone else entirely, and those two just have personal secrets completely unrelated to Amelia that they don’t want to be found out,” Mel said. “A rich, beautiful, well-connected woman like Amelia could easily have scores of enemies. We have to keep open minds.” They walked on for a few moments in silence, ruminating over the past few days’ incidents.
As they neared a bank four blocks away, Kerry spoke, “Isn’t that Claire?” She was pointing to a woman approaching them from about a half-block away. It was, indeed.
“We’re just exercising Smudge, but we can go back,” Mel answered.
“That would be great if you’re sure? I really wanted to talk to you.”
They headed back to Decadent, Kerry filling in the silence by asking Claire how she found her accommodations, then segueing into observations on the businesses they passed on their way back to the pastry shop.
Once inside, Mel invited Claire to sit at a table, while Kerry went back to the kitchen to drum up coffee and a plate of pastries to refresh their guest.
Once seated with Mel, Claire began crying, and it was several moments before she could compose herself. She gratefully accepted Mel’s proffered napkin and dabbed her face dry.
“I just feel so responsible,” she finally said, her voice quavering.
Mel nodded encouragingly, wisely letting Claire’s words flow naturally without interruption.
“I didn’t tell you something before… that I was the one who introduced my aunt to Grant.” She looked up at Mel mournfully.
Kerry returned with the refreshments, unsure whether she should join the two or head back to the kitchen, but Mel pulled out a chair for her.
Claire continued, “If I had known what he was like, there is no way I would have ever considered it.”
“Who are we talking about?” Kerry asked.
“Grant,” Mel answered. “Claire was just saying she feels somewhat responsible for her aunt’s disappearance because she introduced her to Grant,” she went on. “But you had no idea what he was like. You can’t blame yourself.”
“But I should have picked up on something in his character. I’m usually really good at reading people, and that’s why I introduced her to him. I thought he was a really nice guy and they would have a lot in common.” She looked at the wadded napkin in her hands and began smoothing it out on the table.