by Jessica Beck
“I told you that my habit of reading mysteries would come in handy someday,” she said.
I turned to Jake, and I saw a substantial smile on his face. “What do you think?”
After a second, he looked at me and asked, “Did you say something? I was just thinking that this is probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
Grace echoed the thought as well, and Momma grinned as she said, “Don’t fill up on pot roast. I know that it’s good, but I made dessert as well.”
“What are we having?” I asked, and then I took another bite of roast and carrot.
“Suzanne, how can you even think about dessert when we’re eating this masterpiece?” Jake asked me.
“I want to see if there’s any reason not to eat this until I can’t move.”
“It’s chocolate explosion pie,” Momma said.
“Well?” Grace asked. “What are you going to do?”
My Momma’s pies were famous in our parts, but it was still a coin toss. After some thought, I finally said, “I might back off the pot roast a little, and then have a sliver of pie, too.”
“Wow, that must be some pie,” Jake said.
“Try it yourself, and then see if I’m selling it short.”
“Suzanne, when it comes to food, I’m going to take your word for it every time. I can hardly wait.”
The pie was just as delicious as I imagined that it would be, though I limited myself to a small slice, at least the first time I sampled some. The second slice was a little bigger, but in my defense, the combined slices were still less than I usually had in one helping.
“I’m now officially too stuffed to move,” I said as I pushed the dessert plate away, nearly polished clean from my attack on the pie.
“Why don’t you all go into the living room, and I’ll clean up?” Momma suggested.
We all protested at the same time, but my mother wasn’t a woman who would allow her suggestions to be vetoed. “You are here to discuss the current state of your investigation, am I correct?”
There were three nods, and then she continued, “I’m making myself useful in the best way I know how, and you should as well. Everyone needs to go into the living room and solve this dreadful man’s murder. After all, that’s what the three of you are best at. Now, are there any more arguments?”
As I’d expected, there were none, and Momma looked satisfied with our silence.
Jake took one side of the couch, and I joined him there, while Grace sat in the chair I usually occupied.
“Actually, I don’t have all that much to say,” Jake began. “I spent the afternoon in Union Square.”
“So did we,” I said. “Why didn’t we see you there?”
“Well, I was at police headquarters most of the time,” Jake said.
“We were there, too,” Grace replied.
“I didn’t know that. Why didn’t I see you there?”
“Where exactly were you?” I asked.
“I was back in the detective bullpen talking to a guy named Gravely. Why? Where were you two?”
“We were talking to the dispatcher up front,” I said.
“The older officer with her hair in a bun? I believe that her name was Ellen.”
I looked at him in amazement. “What was her social security number?”
“I don’t have a clue,” Jake admitted, looking quite perplexed by the question. “Why on earth should I know that?”
“I was just curious, since you seemed to know everything else about her.” I paused, and then added, “Well, maybe not everything.”
“I don’t follow you,” Jake said, clearly confused by the turn this conversation was taking. You’d have thought that he would have been used to it by now, after being with me.
“That officer just happens to be the third Briar sibling.”
“I had no idea,” he said in astonishment.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We had help. Angelica DeAngelis told us.”
“I suppose that ties into your earlier statement that you were climbing around on Napoli’s roof. Care to elaborate on that?”
“I thought we were taking turns,” I said.
“I’ll cede the floor in this instance,” Jake answered.
“I had to shut off the water,” I said.
“On the roof?”
“It turned out that it was for some kind of fire extinguishing system,” I said, having finally found that out as I was leaving.
“And you were the only one who could have done it,” Jake said.
“Well, Angelica, Antonia, Maria and Grace were cleaning up, and Sophia’s afraid of heights.”
“Is that supposed to be an explanation?” he asked me.
“I don’t know how I could say it any clearer. Angelica is our source of information when it comes to Union Square, so we went to Napoli’s. We found their flood disaster in progress when we got there, and I figured the investigation could wait. A friend needed us, and we responded.”
“I would have expected nothing less from either one of you,” he said. “Did you have any luck with the Briar sibling?”
“Not much,” I admitted. “Morgan got out of prison six days ago and the first thing he did was move in with Ellen. He promised her that he’d turned over a new leaf, but clearly that wasn’t the case. We asked if we could search his room, but she declined. We don’t have any official status in the investigation, and she wouldn’t budge.”
“Maybe I could talk to her tomorrow,” Jake suggested.
“You can try,” Grace said, “but we already dropped your name, and although she was a little impressed that you were helping us, it didn’t win her over completely.”
“You dropped my name?” he asked.
“She didn’t; I did. I didn’t think you’d mind. Do you?” I asked. If Jake was going to work with us, he couldn’t be ashamed that we were amateurs, especially with our track record of solving murders together.
“Not one bit,” he said hastily. The man was learning my tone of voice pretty quickly, something that I was thankful for. It would probably save us both some aggravation down the road. I, too, was learning the way he thought, and how to read his tone of voice and his expressions, something I’d never been able to manage with Max, the Great Impersonator, even after all the years that we’d known each other. Jake added, “I still think that I should talk to her tomorrow. Cops talk to each other in a different language, you know?”
“Hey, you’re welcome to give it a try,” I said. “Like I said, we didn’t uncover much of anything.”
“Don’t sell yourselves short,” he said. “I think you both did an exemplary job with what little information you had to go on.”
“Thanks,” I said. “So, what were you able to come up with?”
“Actually, I was lucky enough to see the files of the original hit-and-run,” he said. “Suzanne, do you really need to know everything about what I uncovered?”
“Are you asking me if I can I take you telling me things about my father that I really don’t want to know? Is that the real question, Jake?”
“It is, and I want you to think hard about your answer before you say anything.”
“I don’t have to,” I said firmly. “I know that neither of my parents have ever been saints. Tell me what you uncovered, and then leave it up to me to deal with it.”
I looked toward the kitchen, and I saw that the door was slightly ajar. Had it been an accident, or was Momma listening in on our conversations? I’d just as soon think that she’d been eavesdropping; it would save me from explaining it all to her again later, and I meant what I’d said. If I could hear it, so could she.
“It appears that your father drank quite a bit while he lived in Union Square. The ‘Jack’ nickname came from his favorite drink, Jack Daniel’s, straight up.”
“So what? I never dreamed that my father was ever a teetotaler.”
“You don’t understand. He drank until he passed out on more than one occasion
, at least according to the eyewitness reports at the time.”
My father as town drunk was not a role that I’d ever imagined him playing, but it was well before I was born, so I had no right to judge him. “Did the cops at the time think that he might have killed Blake Briar?”
“One might have, but the rest of them realized that there were no conspiracies there. If your father hadn’t reported his car stolen two days before the accident, it might have been a different story.”
“Is the cop still around who didn’t believe him?”
“He’s still on the force, as a matter of fact. I’m seeing him tomorrow, along with Ellen Briar. I have a hunch that Morgan’s murder had more to do with the past than what’s happened since he’s been out of jail. I’ve got a few more angles on Blake Briar’s death that I still need to follow up.”
“Like what?” I asked, fascinated by just how good a cop my boyfriend really was. He’d already started applying his special talents to this case, and I was glad to have him on our side.
“I’m going to the prison in the next day or two to interview some of the staff there. If anyone else got out recently, or even had a major grudge against Morgan, I’ll uncover it. I’m especially interested to see if he ever talked about his brother while he was in there.”
“That’s great and all,” Grace said, “but what are we supposed to do in the meantime? It seems like you’re covering all of the bases.”
I hadn’t said it, but I’d been thinking it, too. I just hoped that I didn’t have to admit it to Jake.
No such luck, though.
He turned to me with a troubled expression as he asked, “Suzanne, do you feel that way, too?”
“It does seem as though you’ve got the complete investigation under control,” I admitted.
Jake ran a hand through his hair before he answered. “I wish I had your faith in me. As a matter of fact, there’s a ton of stuff that I can’t do.”
“We’re not too good to work on crumbs,” I said.
“Let’s see, where should we start? Morgan was out of jail for six days. What else was he up to? Did he have a girlfriend? How about drinking buddies? Had he looked for a job in the time he was out? There are a thousand questions you can ask around Union Square that I’d have a hard time getting answers to as a cop.”
“But how do we find the right people to talk to?” Grace asked.
Jake just shrugged. “That’s part of the joy of police work. It can be a slow grind, but it’s the best shot we’ve got. Listen, if I’m doing too much, all you have to do is say so, and I’ll back off. Are you both sure that you’re okay with me working on this case with you?”
“Yes,” Grace and I said in unison.
“Okay, because the last thing I want is to alienate either one of you.” Jake stretched, and then said, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to hit the hay.”
“Are you staying with Cam again?” I asked. Cam Jennings rented rooms on an extremely selective basis, something he did for the company more than the paltry additional income it provided him.
“Yes, he was happy to have me, even on such short notice. I’m going to head over there right now and prepare my notes so I’ll be ready for tomorrow.”
As Jake stood, I joined him, and kissed him soundly before he could go.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” he asked.
“For taking this just as seriously as you do your regular job,” I said.
Grace stood and kissed his cheek. “That’s my way of thanking you.”
Just then, Momma walked into the living room, but I knew that her timing was no coincidence. She had two small parcels wrapped in aluminum foil, and she handed them both to Jake as she approached him. “You have my thanks, as well,” she said, and then on the spur of the moment, she kissed his cheek on the other side of Grace’s peck.
“If I knew about the rewards I’d get helping you out, I’d have done it long ago,” he said with a grin.
“We know what this is costing you,” I said. “We just want to be sure that you know how much we appreciate it.” I turned to Grace and I said, “I’m going to walk him out, but if you’ll stick around, I’d love to chat a little more.”
Grace nodded. “That sounds good to me.” Then she looked at Momma and asked, “Is there any chance there’s pie left?”
“Of course,” Momma answered with a grin. She loved requests for seconds and thirds, and she treated them as the applause they represented.
“Hey, save some for me,” I protested.
“That depends on how long it takes you to get back here,” Grace said.
“Bye, Jake,” I said with a smile.
“No, ma’am. You’re coming with me.”
He tugged at my hand, but I needed no prompting at all.
Outside at his car, I said, “I really am glad that you’re here.”
“I am, too,” he said, and then he kissed me one last time. “I hate to ask your mother to feed us again tomorrow so that we can catch up again. Should I take us all out to dinner instead?”
“Where do you suggest we go? There’s no place in town or anywhere nearby where we can have the privacy to talk about these cases openly. Besides, do you honestly want to break my mother’s heart? She’s probably poring over recipes for tomorrow night even as we speak.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings,” he said with a grin.
“Good, then it’s settled. See you tomorrow evening. Be careful, Jake.”
“Right back at you, Suzanne. Good night.”
“Night,” I said, and after he was gone, I hurried back inside.
After all, I found that I suddenly had room for another sliver of pie myself, and I wanted to make sure that I got one in time before it was all gone.
Chapter 8
Oh happy day.
There was enough pie left for me when I got back inside.
I grabbed a fork and the last piece, and then I joined Momma and Grace at the kitchen table.
After I took my first bite, I turned to my mother and smiled as I said, “Don’t even try to pretend that you didn’t hear every word we spoke,” I said as I pointed my empty fork at her.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Momma answered. “And don’t point at me, young lady, not even with a fork. Jake is quite competent, isn’t he?”
“He’s more than that. The man is an investigating machine,” Grace said. “I was beginning to wonder if there was anything left for us to do.”
“That thought crossed my mind, too,” I said. “But we’ve still got places to dig. Maybe we’ll be able to turn something up on our own.”
“Should we get started tomorrow when you close at eleven?” Grace asked.
“Can you take off that early from your job? We can postpone it until later, if that works out better for you.”
Grace grinned at me. “My boss and her boss are both in London for a conference at corporate headquarters.”
“I’m so sorry that you didn’t get to make the trip yourself,” Momma said.
“They’re welcome to it. It’s way above my pay grade, and while they might get to take fun trips now and then, the headaches they have in their jobs aren’t worth the perks to me. I like things just fine the way they are.”
“Then tomorrow at eleven it is,” I said as I stifled a yawn. Between the wonderful dinner, that last slice of pie, and all that we’d done after I’d worked a full day at the donut shop, I was beat. I glanced at the clock on the wall and I saw that it was just after eight, which, sadly enough, was past my bedtime.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Grace said to me as she stood. Before she left, though, she leaned down and hugged my mother. “Thank you for a terrific dinner and dessert. You, my dear lady, are a magician in the kitchen.”
“I’m glad that you enjoyed it. Do you have any requests for tomorrow night’s meal?”
“Momma,” I butted in. “We don’t want you to feel as though you have to cook for us every
night.” Despite what I’d told Jake, I was a little reluctant to ask her to go to so much trouble on our account two nights in a row.
“Suzanne, I’m dying to try out a handful of new recipes, and the three of you are my perfect test subjects. You wouldn’t deprive me of that, would you?”
“How could I?” I asked. “Any previews of what we might be having?”
“That depends on which mystery I pull off the shelf tonight.”
After Grace left and I was upstairs drifting off to sleep, I realized that somewhere out there a murderer had struck less than twenty-four hours earlier. I wondered if we’d ever be able to find him, even with Jake’s help.
Momma and I couldn’t afford to have this case go unsolved.
There was too much at stake, including the memory of my dear, departed father. He might have been flawed, but he was still my dad, and I was going to do everything in my power to preserve the memories we had of him.
“Are you Suzanne?” a woman asked me the next morning as she came into the donut shop. She was in her late twenties, around twenty pounds overweight, and she had shiny black hair and the deepest, darkest eyes I’d ever seen in my life. We’d just been open a few minutes, and no one else had been in yet. When Emma had first arrived, she had peppered me with more questions about the murder, but since I had no real answers for her, we’d quickly fallen into our routine of early morning donut making. There was a definite rhythm to our movements, and I loved having her back by my side. At the moment I was up front working the counter alone, while she had her hands buried in soapy water in the kitchen sink, her iPod cranked up as usual when she worked alone.
“I’m Suzanne. Can I get you a donut?” I offered.
The woman looked surprised by my question, though I wasn’t at all certain what she’d expected when she walked into my, you know, donut shop.
“Just coffee,” she said. “Nothing fancy. Plain and black is fine by me.”
“A woman after my own heart,” I said. “My assistant loves to offer exotic blends to our customers, but I like mine old-fashioned.”