Cast Iron Cover-Up (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 3)

by Jessica Beck

  “What? He was with Gretchen?” Peggy asked, clearly alarmed by the prospect.

  “They were both concerned about you,” I said. “I think it helped them bond a little.”

  “But she likes Marty,” Peggy protested.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I said, doing my best to sound as unconvincing as I could. “How did you get along with Bones?”

  “He was all right,” Peggy said.

  “No sparks there, though?” I asked her.

  “Romantically? No. Ewww.”

  “How about on his end?” I asked.

  She hesitated too long before replying. “Not really.”

  “Peggy, that’s not what I heard earlier. It was quite a bit more intense than that, wasn’t it?” It was a shot worth taking, and I was pleased to see that it hit home.

  She frowned for a moment, and then she started to cry. “He said he wouldn’t say anything. I can’t believe that he told you about it.”

  “Wouldn’t you feel better if you told me about it yourself?” I asked her, since I had no idea what she was talking about.

  “I thought Henry must have told you about it,” she said, puzzled.

  “No, he didn’t breathe a word of it to me,” I answered.

  “It was really no big deal. Bones thought everyone was away from the main dig site, so he tried to make a move on me. I shut him down, but he had a hard time getting the message. I don’t know what would have happened if Henry hadn’t come back for some water. He saw what was going on, and he warned Bones that if he tried anything else, he’d have to answer to him. It was really kind of gallant when you think about it.”

  “So, Henry was jealous of the way Bones was acting? Is that what you’re saying? Did it make him angry to see him pressing you?”

  “It wasn’t like that, Annie. He was just looking out for me, that’s all.”

  I could see that I’d pushed her as far as I could manage. “I didn’t mean to stir anything up. Would you mind taking the pie and the plates outside to the picnic table? You can send Gretchen in for the mugs, the napkins, and the forks.”

  “Okay,” she said, but then she hesitated at the door. “Don’t say anything to the others about what happened, okay? I don’t want anyone else getting the wrong idea.”

  “What might that be?” I asked her.

  “Henry was just trying to help me out, but I was perfectly capable of shutting Bones down by myself. I’d rather not talk about it anymore, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Got it,” I said with a smile.

  Peggy left, and as I waited for Gretchen to show up, I wondered about a new set of possibilities. Could Henry have killed Bones trying to protect Peggy? Or had she led me to that conclusion to draw suspicion away from herself? Then again, it might not be true at all, since she’d asked me not to say anything to the rest of the group about Bones’s alleged behavior. I wondered if Henry would have a different story entirely if I managed to corner him and ask him about it myself. I was still trying to figure out if I’d actually learned anything useful at all when Gretchen came in.

  “Peggy said you needed a hand,” she said.

  “If you’d hang back until the coffee is ready, you can take the tray out. That way you don’t have to help me prep our dinner.”

  “I really don’t mind,” she said.

  “I appreciate that, but I’ve been doing this for so long, I could just about cook with cast iron in my sleep. What’s going on with you and Marty?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You jumped to his defense pretty fast a few minutes ago,” I said. “Is there something between you two, or are you just going after Henry?”

  Gretchen shook her head. “I’m not interested in either one of them,” she said.

  “So, was it Bones you liked?” I was trying to drive some wedges in, but so far, at least with Gretchen, I wasn’t having any luck.

  “Bones? No. No way. He wasn’t a very nice guy, to be honest with you.”

  “Did he make a hard pass at you, too?” I asked before I realized that I’d just told her something Peggy had asked me to keep in confidence. In my defense, I hadn’t meant to do it, if that counted for anything, which I suspected it wouldn’t, at least with Peggy.

  Gretchen surprised me with her response. “He hit on Peggy, too? I know you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead and all, but come on. That’s just crazy.”

  “So, I take it you didn’t reciprocate his affection.”

  “No. All Bones had going for him was his daddy’s money. He was determined to find the Blankenship money and lord it over his father after we found it.”

  “Do you think he would have shared it with the rest of you if he’d found it first?” I asked.

  Gretchen frowned. “I asked Marty that same question a few days ago. He assured me that it wasn’t going to happen, so I shouldn’t worry about it.”

  “How could he promise you something like that?” I asked her.

  “He said he was keeping an eye on our team leader, so if anything untoward happened, he’d know about it.”

  “Does that mean that he saw Bones make a pass at you? He likes you, you know.”

  “I’m sure that it’s nothing,” Gretchen said.

  “Maybe not as far as you’re concerned, but I’m fairly certain that he has strong feelings for you.”

  “If he does, then I’ll set him straight, just like I did Bones. I just got out of a long relationship. I’m not looking for anybody at the moment.”

  “Just treasure, right?”

  Gretchen frowned. “Annie, I don’t have a trust fund like Bones did or rich parents like Peggy and Henry must. I’m working my way through school. If we found something, I was going to use my share to pay off my student loans.”

  “What were the others going to do with their shares?” I asked her.

  “Henry was going to use his portion to feed his research on other buried treasure. He believes he has a lead on where some of the lost Confederate gold disappeared to. Do you know about that?”

  “It’s hard not to, living around here. Most folks believe the treasure was found and spent a long time ago.”

  “Not Henry. He claims that he has a new lead from reading some personal histories of the gold shipment’s escorts, and with some funding, he’s sure he can find it.”

  “Why didn’t he get Bones to finance it?” I asked.

  Gretchen frowned. “He tried to, but Bones said that we had to find a smaller stake first, and then he’d consider it.” She leaned forward as she added, “If we found anything here in Maple Crest, Henry wasn’t going to let Bones in on the new excavation at all. Finding the Blankenship treasure is as important to his dreams as mine are to me.” She glanced over at the coffee pot. “Is that ready yet?”

  “It is,” I said reluctantly. I wasn’t finished talking with Gretchen, but my coffee pot had other ideas.

  “I’ll just take this out to everyone else. Are you coming, too?”

  “Let me prep the meal, and I’ll be right out. Does your offer to help still stand?” I was going to do whatever I could to get her to linger a little longer so we could chat a little more.

  “I would be glad to help, but from the sound of things, I’d probably just get in your way,” she said.

  After Gretchen was gone, I decided to prep the meal as quickly as I could so I wouldn’t miss anything outside. Adding a few tablespoons of olive oil and butter to one of my larger cast iron skillets, I put it on a burner and set it to medium heat. While the oil and butter were heating up, I took the stew beef I’d taken from the Iron and coated it in flour, lightly enhanced with salt and pepper. After they were prepped, I browned the chunks of beef in the skillet, and once they were finished on all sides, I transferred them to my Dutch oven. While the beef had been browning, I’d added a can of beef stock, two sliced onions, four cubed potatoes, six carrots cut into broad chunks, and a green pepper thrown in for good measure. At the last second, I added a few bay leave
s and a bit of minced garlic, and it was ready for the fire once the meat had been added.

  Grabbing my Dutch oven, now even heavier loaded with food nearly to the lid, I walked outside.

  We were dealing with a limited amount of time now, and so far, my prodding hadn’t produced much that we could use.

  It was time to turn up the heat, in every way possible.

  CHAPTER 22: PAT

  “How do those coals look to you?” I asked Annie as she rejoined us outside. The cast iron was clearly heavy, but I knew better than to offer to carry it for her. My twin sister was a proud young woman, and I wasn’t about to make her look the slightest bit weak with this crowd.

  “They’re perfect,” she said as she put the pot down, and then, grabbing a nearby shovel, she started moving some of the glowing coals around. Once she had a nice little bed away from the main fire, she placed her covered Dutch oven down in the middle of it and then immediately added even more coals to the top of it. After Annie had it sitting comfortably on the fire, with a healthy amount of coals on top as well, it was time to push our guests a little harder.

  Before I could do that, though, one of them spoke up first.

  “Won’t it burn everything on the inside with so many coals on top?” Henry asked.

  “Heat rises, so I need more of it on top than I do on the bottom,” Annie said. Holding her hand over the top, after a few moments she added, “That’s running somewhere around 350 degrees F, so we should be fine.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Marty asked.

  “About what?”

  “How can you possibly know what the temperature is just using your hand?”

  “I have no doubt she can do it,” Gretchen said in my sister’s defense. “After all, she’s experienced in this type of cooking, and besides, it’s still got to be a somewhat accurate way to measure the heat. How do you think a thermometer works?”

  “With mercury?” he asked her.

  “By heat radiation,” Gretchen said.

  “Thanks for having my back,” Annie told her.

  “I’m not taking sides. After all, it’s just science.”

  Once the stew was going, I looked at the remaining firewood and realized that we didn’t have enough wood to finish cooking our meal, let alone build the fire back up to a bonfire tonight so we could all spend some time together. Annie and I couldn’t afford having everyone going to bed before we had a chance to throw some doubt into the group and then watch them react. I had a hunch that my sister had already spoken with Peggy and Gretchen while she’d had them isolated inside the cabin. Now it was my turn with the men. “Marty, would you help me with some firewood?”

  “I’ll do it,” Henry said. “Marty isn’t exactly the volunteering type.”

  “Why should I do it if I don’t have to?” Marty replied, and then he turned to me. “Go on, Henry. Don’t let me stop you from being a hero.”

  “Where’s this wood?” Henry asked.

  “It’s at the back of the cabin,” I said.

  Henry pointed to some stacked much closer, still in earshot of the others. “What’s wrong with that wood over there?”

  “It’s for a different sort of fire,” Annie said when it was clear that I was at a loss for a response that sounded even vaguely plausible.

  “Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

  “I guess I can help, too,” Marty said after getting a dirty look from Gretchen.

  I was still trying to figure out how to kill that particular suggestion when once again Annie came to my rescue. “Marty, you can help him with the next load. In the meantime, would you mind giving me a hand rearranging the fire? We don’t want one side of the oven to get too hot.”

  “Let’s go, Henry,” I said before Marty could protest.

  As we walked to the back of Annie’s cabin, I asked him, “I can’t seem to stop thinking about it. Do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill Bones?”

  The historian frowned a moment before he spoke. “He wasn’t the easiest guy in the world to get along with, but murder? No, I can’t even imagine the circumstances that would drive someone to do that.”

  “Greed can be a pretty powerful factor,” I said. “If he found some of the treasure, that might be motive enough.”

  “I guess. The whole world seems to be in debt these days, though. Why kill someone just to get ahead? It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

  “Are you doing that well with your education expenses?”

  “My parents are paying for most of it, but I’ve got a few loans, just like the rest of the student body at my school,” he said. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  “What are the prospects as a history major?” I asked him.

  “Now you sound just like my folks,” Henry said with a grin. “I’m not planning on teaching, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve never been a big fan of working for other people. When I graduate, I’ve got a few ideas of my own. After all, there’s more to history than what’s in the textbooks.”

  “Are you going after more treasure?”

  Henry looked at me oddly, and I knew that I’d made a good guess. It hadn’t been that big a stretch. After all, this team had been assembled because of something Henry had found in an old journal. Maybe he had other leads as well. “This was supposed to finance the next hunt,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now. I suppose I’ll go back to school tomorrow with the others and try to forget this ever happened. This is my last semester, so after this, I’ll probably never see any of the rest of them again.”

  “Not even Peggy?” I asked him as we got to the far woodpile.

  “You saw that, did you?” Henry asked with a smile.

  “It’s not hard to spot,” I said.

  “Pat, has there ever been a girl in your life that you tried to make something happen with, but it just wouldn’t?”

  “More than I can count on one hand,” I said, laughing slightly.

  “That’s the story of my life. I like Peggy, and I think she likes me, too, but with this murder, any chance we had once is gone.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It’s pretty simple. How can we look at each other across a dinner table wondering if the other one is a cold-blooded killer? It’s not exactly a recipe for a long-term relationship, you know?”

  “I suppose not,” I said.

  “What’s that sitting there for?” Henry asked me as he pointed to a nearby gasoline can. “Is that how Annie usually starts her fires?”

  “Only in a pinch. That’s for her chainsaw and her weed eater.” I glanced back at him again as I said, “You never answered my question, though. Who do you think killed Bones?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but if I had to put money on it, I’d have to say that Marty did it.”

  His declaration startled me. “Is there any reason you feel that way?”

  “He’s the only one of us who could do it and not show any outward sign of regret afterward,” Henry said. “If Gretchen or Peggy had done it, they’d be exhibiting at least some kind of remorse by now.”

  “Because they’re women?”

  “No, because they’re human,” Henry said.

  “And Marty’s not?”

  “I don’t know that I’d say that, but there’s something cold about him that I can’t put my finger on. I don’t know, maybe I’m just jumping at shadows. All I know for sure is that I didn’t do it.”

  We were back with the others now, and as we put the wood down near the fire, I looked at it and said, “One more load ought to do it. Marty, you’re up.”

  “Whatever,” Marty said, and we headed back to the woodpile for more firewood.

  Once we were out of earshot of the others, I asked him, “Do you have any idea who might have killed Bones?”

  “Henry,” he said flatly.

  “Really? Why?”

  Marty studied me for a moment before speaking. “He probably just told you that I did it, didn’t he?”
<
br />   “I’m not comfortable commenting on that one way or the other,” I said.

  “You don’t have to. I know the way his mind works, Pat. It would be the easiest thing in the world for him to blame me for it. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably say the same thing.”

  “You are in your own shoes, and you blamed him. I’d love to know why.”

  “Bones was hitting on Peggy, and it was obvious that he was taking a pretty hard run at her. Henry might seem like a nice, levelheaded guy, but I’ve seen him get jealous before. And then there’s the treasure itself. If Bones found something and Henry knew about it, Bones wouldn’t be safe.”

  “Are we talking about the same guy?” I asked. His portrayal of Henry was at odds with what I’d seen myself so far.

  “I know, he seems like a really nice guy on the surface, but underneath that, there’s a shark there, hiding from most of the world.”

  “How is it that you can see that side of him when other people can’t?” I asked him.

  “Maybe I’ve got a touch of the shark in me as well,” Marty said with a chilling smile.

  “Let’s take greed out of the picture for a moment. Do you see either of the women killing Bones?”

  “Of course I can. It’s not that hard to swing a pickaxe.”

  “Maybe not,” I countered, “but it has to be tough to plunge one into a person’s back, especially more than once.”

  “I don’t know what your experience in the world has been, but from what I’ve seen, women tend to be a lot more violent than men. They just don’t show it as overtly.”

  “So, you can see Gretchen or Peggy killing Bones, is that right?”

  “If he tried to force himself on one of them, you bet I could. I’m just surprised they didn’t stab him more times than they did.”

  “Do you ever have any trouble sleeping at night, always expecting the worst from the people around you?” I asked him.

  “Me? I sleep like a baby. That’s what a clear conscience will do for you.” It was one of those rare moments that Marty actually smiled and meant it.

  We got another batch of firewood and headed back. “You know, just because we knew Bones, that doesn’t mean that it was one of us that killed him,” Marty said. “Money will make folks do things they’d never consider doing otherwise, and I’m sure there’s no shortage of potential killers in your safe little town, no matter what you think, given the right motivation.”