Bones, Booze & Bouquets

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Bones, Booze & Bouquets Page 11

by Marianne Spitzer


  Georgie smiled. “One thing we know for sure or as close as we can be is that the FS in the journal is the mayor’s grandfather. I never liked Mayor Scrumbly, but I didn’t think he would go to such extremes to hide the fact that his family was involved in bootlegging.”

  “I think for many people it would be a fun piece of history, but the mayor has a reputation for being squeaky clean. I doubt he wants anyone to know his family was anything but completely honest.”

  “I guess, but he doesn’t seem to be the type to hire those thugs. Then again, anything is possible when you have money and are afraid to lose it, but the mayor isn’t the one with money in his family. Everyone knows his wife is wealthy and she pays for those yearly cruises and exotic vacations they take.” Georgie pulled into a parking spot behind the bookstore and turned off the car. She leaned her head against the headrest and took a deep breath. “You know, I wasn’t sure we’d make it back here alive. One of these days we’re going to be in more trouble than we can handle.”

  I twisted in my seat to look at her. “If you’re worried, we don’t have to do any more sleuthing. I can handle it.”

  She spun to look at me. “Are you kidding. I said we might get in trouble not that we or I should stop investigating. Today was great, and I wouldn’t want to miss one of Aunt Irene’s stunts for anything.”

  “You know, we forgot something important. We’re concentrating on Lizzy’s problem with the flower shop closure and wondering why the mayor would want to keep it closed. This all started with finding Ralph Wylie’s skeleton in the mansion and then the murder of Willy Wylie.”

  “Right,” Georgie answered. “Those two creeps we saw today look like the type of guys who would’ve killed Willy for someone else. Do you think the mayor would hire hitmen?”

  “Hitmen in Heavenly Corners. Just the thought makes me shudder. I think you’re right about the mayor. I don’t like him, but I don’t see him hiring hitmen, and I doubt his wife would hire them either. There must be something we’re missing. What else do we know about the mayor?”

  “He’s a good ten years older than us, so I don’t remember him when we were growing up,” Georgie commented. “We could do an internet search and see if we can find more information on him.”

  “Good idea,” I said and opened the car door. “If we don’t find anything good we can ask Aunt Irene. She remembers everyone from town.”

  “Don’t forget your Uncle Lyle. He seems to be a mountain of information.”

  “Good idea.”

  I unlocked the back door of the bookstore and Georgie dropped down on the sofa while I went into my office to get my laptop.

  “Hey,” Georgie called after me. “Those two guys said they were looking for ‘them.’ You only found one journal. Do you think there are more journals or they were looking for something else?”

  “I don’t have a clue, but we’ll find out.” I set the laptop on the small table in front of the sofa and powered it on.

  We did a search for information about the mayor and didn’t find anything we didn’t already know. We also read what we could about his wife, but that turned up little except she was the daughter of a successful businessman who owned several chain restaurants and clothing stores.

  “Well,” Georgie stated. “I’m not sure where to go from here. Does that journal hold any new clues?”

  I leafed through the pages and shook my head. “No, this looks like what Lizzy said was in the journal Chief Elroy has. I wish whoever kept this journal dated it. I have no idea if this is a copy or a separate journal.”

  Georgie smiled and said, “I doubt if we can see the one Clifford has, but maybe Dot could find out some information for us.”

  “She does have the chance to listen, but if I know Clifford, that journal is locked away in the evidence room already. Lizzy said he acted as if it were crucial to his investigation.”

  “I’ll text her tonight. Are you ready to go?”

  “Yeah, I’ll talk to Aunt Irene in the morning. Oh, good grief, Clark and I have an appointment in the morning to taste wedding cake flavors. My phone is still on silent. I bet he tried to reach me.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Sure enough, I missed a call and three texts from Clark. I texted him back telling him I had a busy afternoon and spent some time this evening with Georgie. It wasn’t a lie. I’ll call him when I get home.

  ~ * ~

  Laci was still at work when I arrived home. I let Yummy run outside for a few minutes and checked to make sure Aunt Irene’s car was parked next to her cottage. I worry when she’s out saving my life, but she’s the most capable person I know. After a long, hot shower, I dropped onto my bed and called Clark.

  When he answered, I laid back on my pillow and put my phone on speaker.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” Clark’s warm voice made me miss his hugs.

  “Hi, how was your day?”

  “Good. Did you and Georgie have a nice evening.”

  Oh no, I was going to have to tell a white lie. Is a little white lie better than a big, ugly lie? How do we know the difference? Goodness gracious, Annie, answer him.

  “Yeah, you know we always have a good time. Lots of wedding plans.”

  “Uh huh, wedding plans.”

  Oh, my does he know? Time to change the subject.

  “Clark, speaking of wedding plans, we have a ten o’clock appointment with Betsy tomorrow morning to sample wedding cake flavors. You didn’t forget, did you?”

  “No, I remember. Do you have any ideas on what you want?”

  “Not flavors, but colors. Pink and white frosting. Betsy can add hot pink sprinkles to the light pink frosting and purple sprinkles to the white frosting. All we need is cake flavors. Do you have a favorite type of cake?”

  “No. You?”

  He isn’t saying much which is unusual for Clark. Either he knows something about tonight, or his mind is on something else serious.

  “Yeah, I like red velvet cake. You’re awfully quiet. Is everything all right?”

  I heard him blow out a breath and answer, “It’s the Willy Wylie case. It just has me going in circles. There’s a connection between his murder and Ralph Wylie’s, and I’ll find it. It’ll just take time. It’s not easy playing second chair to Wilton when I know this town better than he does.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do it. That man reminds me of the Grim Reaper.”

  “He does look a bit like I would expect, doesn’t he?”

  “He scares me. He acts like I’m a suspect. How can that be when Ralph Wylie was murdered years before I was born?”

  “Don’t worry, beautiful. I won’t let him come after you. Clifford knows you didn’t have anything to do with any of this. Wilton is looking for Willy’s killer. He’s trying to make a point that he’s better than I am since I can’t investigate this one.”

  “Maybe, but he doesn’t like me. Wouldn’t it make him look good if he could prove the fiancé of the town’s best detective is the killer? I’m tired of finding bodies and being blamed.”

  “Don’t worry. I checked him out, and he’s a good detective. He isn’t happy being in what he refers to as a ‘one horse town.’ As soon as the murder is solved, he’ll go home.”

  I heard Clark let out a long slow breath. “You sound tired,” I told him.

  “I am.”

  “Maybe we should say goodnight, and you can get a good night’s sleep. I don’t want you to fall asleep in the cupcakes tomorrow.”

  Clark laughed, and he sounded more like himself.

  “Maybe. Sleep well, sweetheart. I’ll see you at ten.”

  “You, too. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I heard him break off the call and I let out a sigh. He was just tired. He didn’t have any idea what happened tonight. I’m glad. I don’t want him to worry. I do need to figure out how to get the journal to the police without them knowing I had it. Well, that’s after I make copies of the pages, of course. My phone beeped. I have a text from Geo
rgie.

  She’ll look into it.

  BQ is kicking up a fuss about not being able to go home.

  Talk tomorrow.

  Georgie’s being cryptic again. We watch too many police dramas, and she’s always worried someone will read her texts. I sent her back a smiley face letting her know I understood she meant Dot would check things out at the station if she can and that Bart Quigley isn’t happy about being held in protective custody or a safe house or wherever the police have him. I know Georgie is still worried they’ll figure out it was her that phoned in the fake tip, but if they haven’t figured it out yet, they won’t. I hope they won’t. The last thing either of us needs is to deal with that Grim Reaper detective again. I agree with Clark; I’ll be glad when the case is settled, and he leaves town.

  Now, the biggest question. Do I eat breakfast in the morning or do I wait and fill up on cupcakes?

  Chapter Twelve

  I woke to Yummy running around on my bed. When he jumped on my pillow and then onto the one next to it, I knew it was time to get up.

  “Are you ready to go outside?” I asked as I slipped on my robe. Yummy yipped at me, and I scooped him up in my arms. When I opened the patio door to let him run outside, I saw Aunt Irene and Uncle Lyle having coffee at their picnic table.

  Aunt Irene waved me over, and I readily walked over to accept the cup of coffee Uncle Lyle poured for me.

  Uncle Lyle said, “I heard about your adventure yesterday. Did you find what you were looking for?”

  I shrugged. “We found another journal with dates, numbers, and the same initials as the one found in the flower shop’s basement, but I’m not sure if that helps.” I sipped the coffee hoping to wake up further.

  “What exactly are you looking for, dear,” Aunt Irene asked staring into my eyes.

  “Something to prove Lizzy’s grandfather wasn’t involved in anything illegal, find out who killed the man in the mansion’s cellar, and who killed Willy Wiley.”

  “That’s a tall order,” Uncle Lyle commented.

  “It is, but that new detective in town thinks I’m involved in Willy’s murder. Just because his uncle’s body was in my mansion doesn’t mean I killed him. I wouldn’t have a reason, but he is certain I’m involved somehow.” I picked up one of the mini sweet rolls Aunt Irene offered me and took a bite relishing in the sweet strawberry flavor.

  “Did you figure out who’s initials are in that journal besides Willy’s family and Amos Quigley’s?” Aunt Irene asked me and offered me another sweet roll.

  I nodded, “Georgie and I think it’s the mayor’s grandfather and after we found another journal in Mrs. Hagenbak’s attic, I think we’re on the right track. What I can’t figure out is why those two creeps showed up. We heard them say they were looking for something for the mayor, but I can’t imagine the mayor hiring men with guns to search the attic. Why not do it himself? He owns the house. No one would wonder why he was there.”

  Uncle Lyle tapped his fingers on the table for a moment before asking, “Did you hear the men say they were there because of the mayor?”

  “Not exactly, but they said Scrumbly. Who else? I don’t see his wife hiring gunmen to search an attic.”

  “What about his cousin?”

  “Cousin?” I asked confused.

  Aunt Irene nodded, “I remember him. Sad story.”

  “What story?” I leaned closer to listen to her.

  “Lyle, I think you know more than I do. Weren’t they your neighbors?”

  “Yup, they were. The kid’s name was Warren after his maternal grandfather, but everyone called him Skip. He and the mayor are close in age and were in the same grade in high school. Skip’s folks died in a house fire while on vacation, and he moved in with his aunt and uncle.”

  “They mayor’s family?” I asked.

  “Yup,” Uncle Lyle nodded. “Skip and the mayor never got along. When they graduated high school, Skip and the mayor attended different colleges. I heard Skip got in some trouble out West and spent time in and out of prison. Wish I could tell you more.” He lifted his coffee cup to take a sip but grabbed a sweet roll first and took a bite.

  “That’s a good start. Maybe I can see what the internet says about the missing cousin. I have no idea why he would be involved, but with my luck who knows?” I finished my coffee and stood. “I have to get ready. Clark and I are going to sample wedding cake flavors this morning. Thanks for the coffee and sweet rolls.”

  I hugged Aunt Irene and assured her I’d be careful.

  I showered and hurried to the bookstore to see which March triplet was working for me this morning. I wish I could tell them apart.

  “Good morning,” I called as I entered the back door and a young voice returned my greeting. Yummy barked until I let him out of his carrier and he sped for the front of the store. By the time I caught up with him, he was nestled in the arms of one of the March triplets. I found out it was April when I saw her name tag.

  “I have an appointment at the bakery,” I explained. “Would you mind if I left Yummy with you until I returned?”

  April’s eyes sparkled with joy. “Not at all, I love Yummy, and we don’t have a dog at home. Mom says she has enough trouble with five kids.” April laughed.

  “You’re welcome to come visit him anytime if you’re scheduled to work or not,” I told her as I hurried out the front door on my way to Betsy’s.

  It was a nice day, and I decided to walk. I saw Clark’s car parked out front before I walked up to the bakery’s door. He was early. I had to admit that I was a bit worried he might not make it at all. His job keeps him busy, but then the Grim Reaper detective is taking on some of his load, and while I wish Clark was working on the Wiley case, I’m happy he has time to prepare for our wedding.

  I opened the bakery’s door and didn’t see Clark or Betsy, but I could hear their laughter. The bell above the door alerted Betsy, and she hurried out to greet me. “Hi, Clark’s already here. I won’t let him try any of the cupcakes, and he’s pretending to be grumpy, but I made him laugh by offering him coffee. The man is easy to please.”

  “Yes, he is. Maybe he’ll be happier now that I’m here and he can have a cupcake,” I answered.

  “I made eight samples. I think he should have a bite of each. If he eats all eight of them, he’ll feel sick, and you won’t get a chance to try them,” she laughed as she led me into her kitchen. I saw Clark sipping his coffee and staring at the plate of cupcakes sitting on the table in front of him.

  “It’s about time you got here.” He grinned at me. “I’m hungry, and these cupcakes look too inviting not to try. Sit down, and we can enjoy them.”

  “Not so fast,” Betsy said. “I want to explain the flavors and frostings. I know you chose red velvet for one flavor and I think you’ll like the suggestions for the second flavors. Since the red velvet is a darker cake, I chose lighter cakes beginning with vanilla. I also made banana, coconut, spice, lemon, orange, almond, and cherry chip.”

  “You went to all that work just for us,” I asked.

  She winked and said, “Of course. No, not really. Don’t tell anyone, but most of the flavors begin with the vanilla base, and I add the flavors to a small amount of the batter for each cupcake. It’s easy.”

  “You’re a genius,” Clark complimented Betsy.

  She blushed and bowed, “Yes, I am.”

  After trying two bites of each flavor and watching Clark eat more cupcakes than I thought was humanly possible, we chose the coconut cake. The red velvet cupcakes would have a cream cheese frosting with the hot pink sugar sprinkles, and the coconut cupcakes would have a simple vanilla frosting and the purple sugar sprinkles. We chose a cupcake stand that made the cupcakes appear to spiral up. Betsy would stagger the two flavors, and it would be lovely. I hugged Betsy and thanked her. Clark did his best to walk without groaning and called out his thanks to Betsy. I laughed at him when he tried to tell me he didn’t think he could go back to work.

  “You
ate nearly eight cupcakes and three cups of coffee. What did you think would happen,” I whispered and patted his arm. I was afraid to hug him and squish his stomach.

  He shrugged. “I worked late last night and missed breakfast. I was tired and hungry,” he groaned.

  I leaned close and kissed his cheek. “I advise you to walk a lot and skip lunch. You might feel better by dinner time. At the wedding, I’m going to only allow you one cupcake.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair. It’s my wedding. I should get one of each.”

  “All right, one of each, but that’s your limit.”

  “Okay,” he said and gave me a gentle hug and kiss. “I better go and try to work. I may fall asleep at my desk.”

  “You won’t, don’t worry. You had too much coffee for a nap.”

  He groaned again and walked to his car. I bit my lip to keep from smiling as I walked back to the bookstore. With my luck, that odd detective will appear out of nowhere and ask why I’m so happy.

  Yummy was happy to see me when I returned, but he whined at the front door after April left. My sweet little dog loves everyone. I had several customers who kept me busy through lunch, but I didn’t mind. I think I ate the equivalent of two cupcakes and that kept me full enough. Georgie surprised me at two o’clock when she bounded through the door carrying two chocolate shakes.

  “What are you doing here in the middle of the afternoon and with shakes. I’m trying to stay in shape for my wedding. What if my dress doesn’t fit with all the junk food you bring me?” I laughed and reached for one of the shakes.

  “You forgot, didn’t you? I knew you would. I told you to put a reminder on your phone.”

  “Forgot what? Oh,” I drew in a big breath. “I did forget. You’re here to help me address envelopes, and I need to finalize the guest list. You’re the best. I’d never manage to get this wedding off the ground without you.”

  Georgie smiled and replied, “I know. Are the envelopes in your office?”

  “Yes, at least I have them here. We can work in the back. I can hear if anyone comes in the front door and Yummy will let us know before the door opens.” I walked back toward my office to collect the envelopes and my guest list. I placed the envelopes, list, and my address book on the little café table near the back door.

 

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