“So what’s the problem?”
“When we asked Jada to fill in what she could about the rest of the time, she suddenly asked us to leave. She’s hiding something, but I don’t know what it could be. She doesn’t strike me as a killer, but our questions definitely freaked her out.”
They turned the corner, this time circling back toward the house. “Has your mom asked Owen these same questions?”
“I waited with Deputy Chapin until it was time to leave. I have no idea what they said or did while they were alone.”
She frowned. “I do know she believes he went to check on the truck.”
The house was now in sight, so she slowed her steps. “Maybe Owen is just the nice guy Mom thinks he is, but I keep thinking there’s a whole lot more to the man than he lets on.”
Tripp tugged on Zeke’s leash and coasted to a stop. “Yeah, there’s been a couple of times when Gage has said something that hinted he and Owen had crossed paths at some point in the past. I’ve never pressed him on it, because we both served on missions that we couldn’t talk about. Still can’t, for that matter.”
No surprise there. Both men had been in the Special Forces, although she didn’t know the specifics. Tripp didn’t talk much about what he’d seen and done, but those memories sometimes kept him up, prowling the yard until the wee hours.
“Do you think there’s any chance what happened to Mitch Anders had something to do with Owen’s past?”
Tripp was frowning big-time. “Possibly, but it seems unlikely. When he identified the man for Gage, he only said Anders was an insurance agent who had recently moved to town. There was no indication he knew anything else about him.”
True, but she had to wonder if Owen had told Gage more about the victim when Gage had taken Owen down to the station to give his statement. The police chief was pretty good at reading people. Something about Owen’s story had set off alarms of some kind or else he wouldn’t be behind bars right now.
Their path forward seemed clear. Like Tripp had said, getting her mother out of her hair was dependent on clearing Owen’s name. She couldn’t very well interrogate Owen while he was in jail without Gage having a hissy fit. If they couldn’t learn more from him, then she needed to learn more about the murdered man. Uncovering the facts was the only way to unravel a mystery. Maybe she could ask a few questions around town without drawing too much attention to herself. Although it was Gage’s job to solve the murder, sometimes people didn’t like talking to the police.
“You’re planning on investigating on your own again.”
There was no use in denying it. Tripp wouldn’t believe her if she tried. “Not exactly. I thought I’d see what I could learn about Mitchell Anders. No one will be surprised that I’d want to know more about him, considering I’m the one who found his body.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Tripp had her hand in a death grip, as if that alone could prevent her from moving forward with her plan. “You’re not going to get mixed up in another murder investigation on your own, Abby. I’m not sure my heart can stand the strain.”
She might’ve thought he was exaggerating, but right now her fingers felt as if they were being crushed in a vise. Looking back, maybe he hadn’t been kidding on the past occasions when he’d claimed that the dangerous situations she’d gotten caught up in had taken years off his life. Sadly, there was no way for her to walk away from the situation. She made the only promise she knew she could keep. “I plan to be careful.”
His grip on her tightened even more. “And how did that work out for you the last time? And the two times before that?”
Even if she conceded that he had a point, what was she supposed to do? Her mother was miserable. They might have their problems, but she didn’t like to see her so unhappy. “I mean it, Tripp. I will only ask people I know and trust about Mr. Anders.”
The pressure eased up slightly. “Considering he’s only been in town a short time, chances are no one knows a lot about him.”
“Then I won’t learn anything, but at least I can tell Mom I tried.”
Tripp’s hand dropped away from hers. “Who are you planning to talk to?”
She gave the matter some thought. “Bridey, for sure. A lot of people in town talk to her when they’re waiting for their coffee. And there’s a meeting at my house for the quilting guild board tomorrow, so I’ll ask Glenda, Jean, and Louise while I have the chance. I doubt they’ll know much, but I could be wrong. I never knew gossip could travel that fast until I met the three of them.”
She gave Tripp a teasing glance. “When I send out a reminder about the time, do you want me to tell Jean she can pick up her empty casserole dish while she’s here? Maybe bring you another tuna surprise in exchange?”
Tripp’s scowl was impressive. “Sometimes I forget you have a nasty mean streak. What time is the meeting, anyway?”
“Why? Do you want to come hang out, drink tea, and eat cookies with us?”
He actually shuddered. “No, I’ll drop the empty dish off at your place. I also plan to be gone while they’re at your house. If you won’t tell me the time, I’ll just hang out in the school library for the day.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “The meeting starts at nine. We’re usually done by eleven. They like to get to the Creek Café in time for the early-bird lunch special. I’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”
They walked the last block in silence, letting Zeke set the pace for them. Abby was in no hurry to get back home, but at least the combination of good company and exercise had taken the edge off her temper. Hopefully she and her mother could make it through the rest of the day without ripping into each other again. If not, well, she could always lock herself in her bedroom and watch a movie.
Maybe her mom would calm down when Abby told her about her plans to do a little sleuthing on her own. To delay having to face the woman for another few minutes, Abby walked around to sit on the back porch instead of heading directly inside. If Tripp guessed what she was up to, he didn’t say anything. He let Zeke off his leash and then handed it to her. “I’d better go back to my place and work, but call me if you need a referee. Maybe I’ll even invite the neighbors and sell popcorn.”
She shouldn’t have encouraged him, but it was impossible not to laugh. “And I could call your mom and tell her that you got this whole thing going on with a lady in her eighties.” She paused to waggle her eyebrows. “That she brings you lavish gifts of tuna and pasta.”
“Like I said earlier—huge mean streak.” He pretended to glare at her, but there was too much humor in his eyes to take him seriously. “But two can play at that game. How do you think Gage would react if someone let it slip that you were breaking out your deerstalker hat and magnifying glass again?”
When she’d gone to the town’s Halloween Festival dressed as Sherlock Holmes, she’d been the only one who thought it was funny. Some people, namely Tripp and Gage, had no sense of humor. Or maybe it had just been too soon after she’d had a scary run-in with a murderer. It was hard to tell.
Either way, it was time the two of them parted ways for the day. “Thanks for coming to check on me. It helped. Good luck with your paper. I know essays about teaching kindergartners must be hard.”
Tripp’s answering growl as he walked away would’ve done Zeke proud. She laughed and waved when he reached his porch and glanced back in her direction. He relented and grinned before disappearing inside.
She settled on the top step to ponder the best way to find out what she needed to know about Mr. Anders without drawing unwanted attention from his killer.
CHAPTER 12
Although no apologies had been exchanged, the previous evening had passed without any more drama. After a simple meal of broiled salmon and a salad, Abby had watched a movie while her mother read. There was no way to know if the peace would last, but she appreciated the break from the unrelenting tension. Going to bed relaxed made for much more restful sleep.
Th
e morning started off peacefully, as well. If her mother was surprised Abby was up and dressed by eight o’clock, she had the good sense not to comment. Abby grabbed a container of strawberry yogurt from the refrigerator and warmed one of the muffins left over from when Owen had come for breakfast. Finally, she poured herself a huge cup of coffee before joining her mom at the table. Eyeing the half-eaten piece of toast on her mother’s plate, she asked, “Is that enough of a breakfast?”
“I had a bowl of cereal about an hour ago.”
Abby studied her mother’s face over the rim of her coffee cup. “Did you get enough sleep?”
“Oh, sure. At home, my alarm goes off at five a.m., so I’m used to getting up early. Zeke kept me company, so he’s already eaten. Which reminds me—when I let him out, there was nothing on the porch. When he woofed to be let in”—she paused to point at an unfamiliar baking dish sitting on the counter—“that was sitting outside the door.”
Abby laughed. “Tripp must have dropped it off when he left for his morning run. It belongs to one of the ladies from the quilting guild.”
As she explained about Jean and her infamous tuna casseroles, it felt good to hear her mother laughing so hard. “Poor man, but it’s nice that he’s so good-natured about it.”
“Yeah, it is. He’s a great guy.”
Her mother cleared her spot, putting the cup and plate in the dishwasher before sitting back down. “So, what’s on the agenda today besides visiting Owen? Also, I’m not up on jailhouse etiquette. Do I bring cookies again or was that a one-shot deal?”
If there’d been any snark at all in her voice, Abby would’ve once again felt obligated to defend Gage and his people. But since her mother sounded genuinely curious, she gave the matter some serious thought. “Why don’t I text Gage and ask if you can stop by this morning? I can’t go with you, though. I have a quilting guild board meeting here at nine. Will you be all right going by yourself?”
“Now that I’ve been there and know how it works, I’ll be fine. I just need to make sure Owen is doing okay. He’ll also want to know we talked to Jada.”
Just that quickly, the shadows were back in her eyes, and she looked a little lost. Abby understood how she felt. Her mom had come to town to spend time with Owen and have a little fun. Instead, she was caught up in a murder investigation, and he was in jail.
“I can’t promise anything, Mom, but I’m going to ask the ladies from the guild if they know anything about Mr. Anders. I also thought I’d see if my friend Bridey has time to meet me for lunch this afternoon. She hears a lot of local news from her customers. Don’t get your hopes up, though. He only recently moved to town, so it’s a long shot that any of them will know anything useful.”
“I appreciate that you’re even willing to try. Should I stay home since you’re doing this for me?”
Abby shook her head. “No, that’s okay. The ladies might not be as willing to share any gossip they’ve heard with a stranger.” She glanced at the clock. “Whoops, I should get moving. They’ll be here soon, and I still need to set the dining room table, make the tea, and lay out the refreshments. And I’d better text Gage and Bridey now before I forget.”
Her mother pushed away from the table. “I can set the table for you. How many people are coming?”
“Four, counting me. I use Aunt Sybil’s china and silver, because the ladies like the fancy stuff. Oh, and there are matching paper napkins in the top left drawer of the buffet.”
She typed her message to Gage and crossed her fingers he’d let her mother back in to see Owen. If he wouldn’t, she was pretty sure her mother wouldn’t handle it well. Rather than sit there and stare at the screen, she got out two teapots and arranged a selection of cookies on two depression-glass plates.
Her phone chimed just as she filled the kettle and set it on the stove. Bracing herself for the worst, she peeked at the screen. Whew! Good news. Her mom was welcome to stop by for a thirty-minute visit anytime before noon. That would give Abby a chance to quiz her friends without an audience. She sent Gage a quick “thank you” and then heard back from Bridey a few seconds later. Yay, she was batting two for two. Hopefully that was a sign things were on an upswing.
Her mother was back. “Any news?”
“Yep, Gage said you can come by for half an hour as long as it’s before noon. He didn’t say why it had to be then, but I was pretty sure that would work for you.”
“I’d better go get ready then, or do you still need my help?”
“No, I’ve got it under control.” She handed the cookies to her mom. “Can you set these plates on the table on your way?”
“Sure thing.”
Abby filled the tea balls with Earl Grey and Darjeeling tea leaves. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
Her mom stopped in the doorway. “Actually, I want to go back home to get some more clothes and pick up my mail. I hadn’t expected to stay this long, and I need a few things.”
That was both good news and bad. It meant her mom would be gone for hours, giving the two of them a much-needed break from each other’s company. The downside was that it also meant her mom planned on staying with Abby for the duration of the investigation. Luckily, the kettle chose that moment to whistle, giving her a way to hide her unenthusiastic response to that thought.
She had to say something. “Traffic is unpredictable, so I’ll keep dinner simple. Maybe I’ll order pizza.”
“Sounds good, but don’t wait for me if I run late. I can always reheat it in the microwave.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
As her mom headed upstairs, Abby carried the teapots and Jean’s baking dish down the hall to the dining room. The doorbell rang a few seconds later. Her friends were nothing if not punctual.
“Come on in, ladies, and make yourselves comfortable. I have to grab my notes and the minutes from our last meeting. It won’t take me a second.”
Her mother was coming down the steps when Abby got back, so she performed the necessary introductions. “Mom, you may already know these ladies since they were all close friends of Aunt Sybil’s. But just in case, this is Glenda, Louise, and Jean.”
Glenda smiled. “Yes, we met several years ago. I think you’d come down to visit for Sybil’s seventy-fifth birthday.”
Her mother smiled. “I remember. You made that wonderful rhubarb coffee cake.”
The older woman beamed at the compliment. “It was one of your aunt’s favorites. If I’d known you liked it so much, I would’ve baked one for today. Maybe next time.”
Abby joined the conversation. “Mom, you’d better get going if you don’t want to be late.”
Taking the hint, her mother moved toward the door. “It was nice seeing you ladies again. Abby, I’ll see you later.”
As soon as she was out the door, Abby shepherded her friends toward the dining room. “Why don’t we get started? We have a lot to cover.”
* * *
Most of the time Abby had a lot of patience with her elderly friends, but sometimes keeping them focused was a definite challenge. Today had been worse than usual, but they’d finally reached the last item on the agenda. Before the ladies had coaxed—or actually bamboozled—her into taking over as president of the guild, the group’s board meetings had been more like a tea party.
Now, they mostly followed the agenda she presented to them. They’d finally learned that the more they stayed focused on the business at hand, the faster they could get to their favorite part of the meeting, which was catching up on local gossip. For once, Abby couldn’t wait.
She held up the teapot. “Anyone else want more?”
Glenda held out her cup and let Abby pour. “I was sorry to hear about the unpleasantness at the movie night. Are you all right?”
She passed the teapot on to Louise, so she could pour tea for Jean at the other end of the table. “I’m fine, but my mother is taking the incident pretty hard.”
“I’m sure she is. No one expects to discover a body li
ke that.” Glenda sighed as she passed around the cookies. “I swear, I don’t know what’s going on in this town. We never used to have this kind of stuff going on all the time.”
Jean took a sugar cookie and set it on her plate. “I heard Chief Logan arrested someone in connection to the murder—that Owen Quinn, the man who owns that awful food truck.” She gave the rest of them a wide-eyed look as she sipped her tea before continuing. “Naturally he claims to be innocent, but that’s what they all say. You know, criminals.”
The woman definitely had a flair for the melodramatic. If the situation wasn’t so dire, Abby would’ve laughed. She also knew the best way to get the ladies to share what they’d heard was to prime the pump with a little insider information of her own.
“Remember when Tripp was in jail right before Halloween? It wasn’t because he’d done anything wrong, but because he was protecting a friend.”
Jean sat back in her chair. “So you think Mr. Quinn knows something he doesn’t want to tell Gage?”
“I can’t say. You know Gage can’t share the details when he’s investigating a crime.” She paused and drew a deep breath for effect. “What I can tell you is that my mother and Owen have become friends, and she believes him to be innocent of any wrongdoing. But just like Tripp, he isn’t cooperating with Gage.”
Louise frowned. “Surely your mother has tried talking some sense into the man.”
Abby huffed an exasperated laugh. “Yeah, and got about as far with him as I did with Tripp.”
“Was Mr. Quinn the friend your mother was on her way to visit?”
There was no use in denying it. “Yeah. Gage said she could stop by for a short time. I think he’s still hoping Owen will listen to her. I have to admit, I don’t know what to think. All I know about Mitchell Anders is that he only recently moved here. It seems so strange that someone so new to our town would’ve already made an enemy who was willing to kill.”
She gave each of her friends a questioning look. “Unless he had some past connection with someone here in Snowberry Creek that I just haven’t heard about.”
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