“I won’t argue you there, he would have the skill for that,” Sheriff Bryson said. “But he’s not that kind of person.” He motioned to the closed door across the hall. “Big groups of kids, boys and girls, hang out up there without anything improper happening.”
“Except theft, and underage drinking, and who knows what else,” Penelope said, looking at the door also.
“Kids will be kids,” Sheriff Bryson said by way of explanation. “If Regina’s telling the truth and Ava was supplying them the stuff, you can take theft off the list.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” Penelope asked, exasperated.
“Thought you’d want to know,” he said. “You’re the one with all the concerns. Ava hasn’t filed one complaint with my office, which makes me think this is all a big fuss over nothing.”
The front door opened and Sheriff Bryson stepped out into the hall. He waved Regina’s mother into the room where she waited, grabbing a folder from his desk.
“Thanks for coming in,” he said to Penelope before heading in behind Regina’s mom. He closed the door most of the way but left it slightly ajar. Penelope could hear their mumbled conversation, Regina’s defiance hanging strong and her mother’s weepy relief mixed with anger.
Penelope stuck her hand in her jacket pocket and rubbed the edge of the envelope containing her jewelry. Her eyes moved over the paperwork on the sheriff’s desk and a folder caught her attention. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw the sheriff had taken a seat, his back to the door, his broad shoulders hunched over the table as he went through the arrest paperwork for Regina.
Penelope inched closer to the desk so her thigh was touching and craned her neck to read the folder’s tab. Autopsy Results: Foster, Jordan.
Her heartbeat picked up as she leaned over and flipped the folder open, spinning it halfway around so she could read it better. She scanned the sheet, stopping at the entry for stomach contents. Listed were venison, steak, potatoes, cabbage, carrots, pineapple juice, wine, and brandy. The next line listed toxins found: Doxylamine.
Penelope thought about the combination of food and spirits, attempting to link them to menu items at Festa, but failing to place them. Chefs tasted all night long, so it wouldn’t necessarily have to be one specific dish.
At the bottom of the page was a drawing representing the back and front of a body. Someone had sketched two circles on the lower back of the figure and jotted the word “bruising.”
The phone trilled on the desk and Penelope’s heart leapt into her throat. She closed the folder and spun it back around just before Sheriff Bryson came back into the office.
“I thought you’d gone,” he mumbled before hooking the receiver with his thumb and stretching the phone to his ear.
Penelope made for the door, grateful he hadn’t caught her looking through his files. She spelled the name of the toxin over in her head once more so she wouldn’t forget it.
“Hold up,” he said in a low voice.
Penelope froze, thinking she’d been caught after all. She straightened her shoulders and turned around. The look of alarm on the sheriff’s face froze her in her tracks.
“Okay, be right there,” he said before hanging up. “The forensic team found human remains in the woods.”
Chapter 40
Penelope stepped inside the diner and smelled the fresh roasted coffee brewing behind the counter. The older woman who had waited on them a few days earlier offered her a tight smile and nodded at the counter stools. “Nice to see you again.”
After filling a mug for Penelope, she sauntered down the counter to check on a customer at the other end while Penelope pretended to look at the menu. She pulled out her phone and searched Doxylamine, finding it to be the main ingredient in several over-the-counter sleep aids.
“What’ll it be?” the woman asked when she returned.
“Um, a piece of lemon meringue.” Before she could step away again, Penelope said, “You mind if I ask you something?”
Penelope watched her defenses go up, but her smile stayed in place. “Sure, hon. What can I do for you?”
“Is Mr. Pears here?” Penelope asked. “He’s not at the newspaper right now.”
“No, he’s out on assignment somewhere. But I’m his wife, Shirley, if you want to lodge a complaint or fill out a compliment card.” Shirley smiled wider, revealing a silver bridge along her gums.
“In that case, maybe you can help. I’ve been approached to invest in a company called Herring – Steele, and I was told Jacob was one of the first investors. I wanted to ask him about the company,” Penelope lied—she’d thought up the story right before she walked in the diner.
“Well, I believe that’s our mortgage company,” Shirley said. “Can’t say either of us would know much more about it than that.”
Penelope deflated. “Do you expect Jacob back soon?”
Shirley shook her head. “No, today is his reporting day. He mentioned something about visiting that movie set at the inn. You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Penelope said. “I’m one of the chefs.”
“Well, la-di-da,” Shirley said, with a small laugh. She wandered away and returned, sliding a good-looking piece of lemon meringue pie in front of Penelope. “How much longer do you reckon you all will be hanging around? Not that I’m complaining—we’ve had a nice little bump in business.”
“Not much longer,” Penelope said vaguely, spearing a piece of lemon curd.
Shirley grabbed the orange handle of the coffeepot and whisked over to a newly seated booth, taking orders and bringing the ticket to the kitchen window. When she came back Penelope said, “I thought Herring – Steele was a privately held restaurant investment company. Are you sure that’s where you pay the mortgage?”
“Let’s see,” Shirley said, thinking. “I suppose ‘mortgage’ isn’t the correct term. They’re the folks we bought the diner from, in a lease-to-buy arrangement. We’ve got years left to pay, a lot of years, if we live that long.” She put her hands on the small of her back and did a little stretch. “I guess it’s what you call an umbrella company. Lots of businesses represented by an overseeing management team.”
Penelope thought about the arrangement. There wasn’t anything obviously criminal about it, even if it was a bit unorthodox to sell shares of a company privately.
“Can I get you anything else?” Shirley asked, ripping off a green ticket from her pad.
Penelope shook her head. “Great pie.”
Shirley smiled widely again. “Glad you like it. You can take a whole one back for the movie stars. Just $12.99 each.”
Penelope walked out of the diner and saw Denis walking up the sidewalk.
“Denis,” Penelope said.
“Penelope,” Denis said. “How are things? Oh, I meant to tell you I’ll be by on my usual day next week with some new bottles.”
“Good, but you won’t be meeting with me. There are some changes happening at Festa, which will probably involve you eventually. They’re bringing on a new chef.”
Denis’s face went blank for a minute, then he seemed to catch up. “I’ve been off this week, out of town. It’s funny Ava didn’t let us know though. I haven’t checked my messages yet. I just got back.”
“It’s a fairly recent development,” Penelope said, wondering why a vendor, someone who wasn’t an employee of the restaurant, would expect to be kept in the loop on hiring decisions. “Did you get my message about your check? The one that was stolen from my room?”
“No,” he said, confused. “What check?”
“I found a check in that box of wine you left the morning after Jordan died,” Penelope said. “I’ve been trying to call you.”
Denis put his hand to his forehead and stared at her. “This retreat thing, it’s supposed to be a complete destress experience. Rule one is you ha
ve to unplug. Oh man. If I’m late on my payment, I lose my share of the equity.”
“So Herring – Steele is your mortgage company too?” Penelope asked.
“No,” he said slowly. “It’s my shares of Festa.” Denis looked at her as if she should already know this. “I’m listed in the portfolio as part owner, bronze level.”
“Oh,” Penelope said. “I didn’t know they sold shares.”
“I’ll have to explain to Ava, get a new check to her today,” Denis said. “If I miss a payment, or I’m even a week late, I get thrown off the portfolio, lose out on all of the returns I have coming to me.”
“Returns?” Penelope asked.
“Yeah, I get a quarterly return on my investment,” Denis said, nodding. “It’s not much right now, but Ava says down the road the revenue will be huge.”
“Sounds like a good investment,” Penelope said, trying to work it out in her mind. Was Ava crowd-funding Festa’s operation? “I’ve got to head back to the set.”
“Sure. See you at the restaurant,” Denis said.
Chapter 41
When Penelope got back to the set, Jennifer hurried over to her.
“Where have you been?”
“I was in town talking with the sheriff. I left Francis in charge. What’s up?”
“Oh, I don’t know—someone put a piece of chicken on Janie’s plate and she almost threw up,” Jennifer said. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes flashing.
Penelope looked at her doubtfully. “I’m sure she didn’t throw up from looking at chicken.”
Jennifer sighed. “Fine. You’re right. I’m just freaking out over here.”
“Relax,” Penelope said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“I just wish she would leave, but it looks like they’re staying a week at least. They’ve lost confidence in me as a director.”
“Did they say that?” Penelope asked.
“No,” Jennifer said. “But I can tell.”
“I think you’re imagining things,” Penelope said.
“Maybe you’re right. I should be more confident,” Jennifer said. She barked a quick laugh and hugged her arms across her chest.
“Hey, have you been approached by Ava about an investment opportunity?” Penelope asked.
Jennifer shook her head. “No. Thank God,” she added. “I have enough going on without getting pitched by a quasi-friend and business partner.”
“You’re right about that,” Penelope said. After Jennifer wandered away, Penelope thought about Denis. He was a regular guy, unfussy, didn’t wear flashy clothes or drive an expensive car. He knew a lot about wine, but shared with Penelope he didn’t have the wallet for some of his most expensive bottles, which was why he enjoyed his job. He didn’t strike her as an obvious client for an investment portfolio.
Sybil, on the other hand, was a well-known actress with an established career. Shirley and Jacob Pears appeared to be comfortable, but they were still working full-time close to retirement age. And she herself was a business owner with a more than substantial income, yet Ava hadn’t breathed a word about investing in Herring – Steele to her or Jennifer. Something wasn’t adding up.
Penelope checked in with her crew and found they were finishing up their final meal of the day. “I’m going to head into the woods for a bit, check on something.”
Francis looked at her with amusement. “I think I’m the boss on this one, Boss.”
Penelope smiled at him. “You are. And I appreciate it.”
She trekked up the main path toward Bailey’s camp, keeping an eye out for the sheriff and his team. She spotted them a few hundred yards before she arrived and stopped to watch as a few members of the Quincy team stepped gingerly around the woods.
“What are you doing up here today?” the sheriff asked, coming down to meet her on the path.
“Taking a walk.”
He looked at her skeptically.
“Okay,” Penelope sighed. “I wanted to see what you found.”
The sheriff folded his arms and looked down at her. “You should get back to work. This isn’t related to our other case.”
“How can you say that?”
“Look,” he said, turning his back to the team. They were too far away to hear them, but Penelope appreciated he wanted to stay discreet speaking to a civilian. “We may have uncovered a burial ground.”
Penelope put her hand over her mouth.
“I’m only telling you because I don’t want you coming back here and poking around yourself.”
“Do you think it’s the missing kids? The Forrestville Five?” Penelope reached for her phone to look at the posters again.
“Too soon to tell,” he said.
“Someone lured those kids up here and killed them,” Penelope said. “Then buried them in the woods. That’s a serial killer. Now Jordan’s dead. For a place with no murders in it, now you might have six.”
“Miss Sutherland, please let me handle this.”
“Bailey invited two girls from the set to come and party with him in the woods.”
“I’ve heard you; now I’m going to ask you to leave and let us do our jobs.”
Penelope reluctantly turned away and headed back toward the inn.
Chapter 42
Joey, Max, Randall, and Sam were sitting at the bar in the inn, laughing and sharing a bottle of wine. The sight of them together caused a warm feeling to spread in Penelope’s chest.
“Hey, guys,” she said. “Mind if I join you?”
“You done for the day?” Max asked.
“Yeah, we just wrapped,” Penelope said. “They’re cleaning up now. I have to do a few more things, but for the most part I’m done.”
“We’re heading out in the morning,” Max said, crooking his thumb between himself and Sam. “Catching the same flight to LA first thing.”
“I’ve offered to give them a ride to Indianapolis, stay overnight,” Joey said. “I’ll stop in and meet with that contact I told you about in the morning. He says he might have found something out.”
“Oh, that’s great, Joey,” Penelope said. She turned to Randall and Max. “I’m glad you guys were able to visit. It means a lot to Arlena.”
“It’s been fun, but I have to get back to my set up in Oregon,” Sam said.
Penelope nodded and took a sip of wine.
“So, Max, you’re quitting the road trip?” Penelope asked.
“The road trip has stalled in Forrestville, Indiana,” Max said, jerking his head in his father’s direction.
Randall leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. “Yeah, I’m sticking around for a while. See what happens here, you know?”
“You wouldn’t be sticking around for anyone in particular, would you?” Penelope teased.
“Nah,” Randall said reflexively. “Well, maybe.”
“I’m here two more days after I get back,” Joey said.
“Thank goodness. Let’s make the most of them,” Penelope said.
Max told them about three different auditions Randall helped to set up for him when he got to California. His excitement was contagious, and they all listened as he described the different roles he was up for.
“I hope you get the British one,” Penelope said. “I love all those historic shows with the servants and the pretty dresses.”
The front door opened and Karen rushed in, looking around the inn. When she saw Penelope, she hurried to the table, excusing herself while trying to catch her breath.
“Karen,” Penelope said, standing up and putting her hands on the girl’s forearms.
“Penelope,” Karen said, unable to stop the tears from coming. “Mom still doesn’t want me to do it.” She crumpled into Penelope, who wrapped her arms around the girl. She sobbed quietly as the four men at the table looked on, concerned
.
After she’d calmed down, Penelope pulled over a chair and eased Karen onto it.
“Tell me what happened,” Penelope said.
Karen’s words tumbled out, increasing with speed as she went. “I told Mom this is what I really want, that I want to apprentice with Paul. I could take some time off school or commute on the weekends to put my time in. She told me it was the wrong choice. What should I do? I really want her support right now.”
Penelope let her finish as she basically repeated the same things over again. “What does Ava say?”
“Ava says she’ll talk to her again,” Karen said, sniffling.
“Karen, everything is going to work out,” Penelope said. “You can always start out in a kitchen in Bloomington near your school, work weekends, and then when you graduate come to Festa. Maybe your mom would agree to a compromise.”
Karen shook her head. “Mom’s against the restaurant life. Says it’s too hard to have a family. It’s okay for men, but women chefs can’t be good mothers. I don’t even know if I want to be a mother!”
Penelope wasn’t sure what to say. She looked at Joey, who averted his gaze, then met her eyes again and shrugged.
“Kyle doesn’t want the restaurant. I do. It’s all I want to do. My family makes no sense.”
“Karen,” Penelope said, “this isn’t the end of the world. Follow your passion and your mom will come around when she sees how happy you are. I’m sure of it.”
Karen cleared her throat and wiped away a stray tear. “Would you talk to her for me?”
Penelope felt a prick of dread before Karen finished talking. “I suppose, if you think it would help.”
“She respects you,” Karen pleaded. “You’re a good example. If you could answer any questions for her, let her know it’s a great career…I would be so grateful.”
Penelope paused, looking into Karen’s bright green eyes, then hugged her. “Sure. I’ll have a talk with your mom. No promises though.”
Murder Is the Main Course Page 20