Cast Iron Motive (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 4)

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Cast Iron Motive (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 4) Page 11

by Jessica Beck


  “And your apartment above the Iron would drive me nuts as well. I guess we’re both suited for our lifestyles, aren’t we?”

  “It sounds like it to me. Do you mind making ribs this evening?” he asked.

  “No, they’re easier than a lot of things I make with cast iron,” I said. “It will give us plenty of time to speculate about Della’s situation a little more.”

  “It seems as though that’s all that we’ve been doing, speculating,” he said as I drove toward the supermarket. We had supplies to acquire before we could get started with prepping the cast iron and then cooking the meal.

  “Do you honestly believe we’ve covered all that we need to discuss?” I asked him.

  “Of course not, but it’s feeling like circular logic to me. I just wish there was something more active that we could do.”

  I knew that our approach was frustrating to him. Shoot, it was aggravating me as well, but all we could do was ask questions, snoop around, look for clues, and try to figure out what was going on. We couldn’t make people talk to us, and so far, our results had been mixed at best.

  I wasn’t about to give up, though.

  There was too much at stake.

  “Do you need some kind of a list?” Pat asked me as I pulled into the grocery store parking lot. It had been easy enough to find, given Della’s directions and the small size of the town.

  I tapped my forehead. “Nope, it’s all up here.”

  “That’s a scary thought,” he said with a smile, and I was happy to see it. This case had thrown Pat off from the very start, and for some reason, dealing with Aunt Della had been much harder for him than it had been for me. I knew that I needed to make concessions to my brother’s sensitivities without letting him know that I was doing it. I knew that Pat liked to think of himself as a man’s man, and while I didn’t think him having emotions precluded him from being called that, he might. It was up to me to support him in any way that I could, as long as it didn’t jeopardize our investigation.

  “Should I grab a buggy?” Pat asked me as we walked into the store.

  “It might not be a bad idea,” I said.

  As he started to retrieve one of the green wired buggies from the queue, someone else was bringing one back into the store. “Would you like this one?” Henrietta Long asked me as she approached.

  “Thanks, but Pat’s grabbing one. Fancy running into you here.”

  “Gateway Lake isn’t all that big,” she said with a warm smile. “That’s why it helps to get along with everyone. You never know when you’ll see them again.”

  “I can’t imagine you have any problems with that,” I said to her.

  “You’d be surprised,” Henrietta said. In a lower voice, she added, “Some folks weren’t all that happy with the job that Della and I did with the Winter Wonderland festivities.”

  “Funny, I thought it was a real success,” Pat said as he joined us.

  “Oh, a good time was had by all, there’s no doubt about that, but the expenses were much more than we anticipated. I’m afraid that neither Della nor I are very good at business, though we know how to throw a party. We’ve been letting a few folks know that we aren’t going to clear as much as we’d first hoped to soften the blow, but word is getting around town, and I have a feeling that things might get ugly. It’s not just the financial paucity, though. I’ve already had complaints today about how Della handled things during the festivities.”

  “I thought you two worked together on everything?” I asked her. “Why would they single Della out?”

  “Well, we were co-chairs, that’s for sure, but we couldn’t both do everything. I handled the finances mostly, while Della dealt with parade routes, booth allocations, and things like that. Not that her name wasn’t on the bank account too, or that I didn’t tweak a placement or two, but folks seem to be more upset with your aunt than they are with me. I do my best to defend her, but you know how people can be.”

  “Who in particular is unhappy about Della?” Pat asked.

  “Oh, I don’t feel right naming names,” Henrietta said.

  “We won’t tell anyone that you told us,” I reassured her. Pat and I needed information, and we were running into more dead ends than usual. Any enlightenment Henrietta could provide would be most appreciated.

  “Well, I don’t want to spread rumors, but Chief Cameron has been unhappy with her since she laughed at his dinner invitation. The man is positively obsessed with making her suffer some of the humiliation he felt from her rejection. Add Davis to the mix, who clearly has his sights set on her but is making no progress whatsoever, and you have the potential for things to get ugly there.”

  “So, these men really are infatuated with my aunt,” Pat said.

  “Oh, absolutely,” Henrietta said. “Della has always been a looker, but she has an aura around her that most men our age find irresistible.”

  I smiled at the thought of grown men acting like teenagers trying to get the pretty girl’s attention, until I remembered that a woman had been murdered. “What about Cheryl Simmons?”

  “What about her? I don’t know if any of the men had a crush on her too or not.”

  “Do you have any idea who might want to kill her?” Pat asked.

  “No, it’s baffling to me.”

  “Della believes that whoever killed Cheryl has been trying to kill her, too,” I said.

  Henrietta frowned. “Really? That possibility never crossed my mind. My lands, what is this world coming to?”

  “You said earlier that people weren’t happy with our aunt,” I reminded Henrietta, who seemed a little scatterbrained.

  “Did I?” she asked.

  “Yes, you did. So far, you’ve mentioned the police chief and the mayor. Who does that leave, the candlestick maker?”

  I’d been trying to be funny, but clearly Henrietta didn’t get it. “I don’t believe we have one of those in town, unless I’m mistaken.” The puzzled look on her face amused me, but this wasn’t the time or the place to smile.

  “What I’m asking you is who else is upset with her? Is it Serena Jefferson, or perhaps Gary White by any chance?” Those names kept popping up in our investigation, and I was certain she was going to mention one of them.

  She managed to surprise me, though. “No, the only other person I can think of offhand is Latham Gregg.”

  This was a new name to me. “Pardon me?”

  “Latham,” she said as she pointed in the direction of a man overseeing the cashiers at the checkout lines. He was in his late fifties, with a full head of snowy-white hair and a belly that would make him the perfect candidate to play Santa around Christmastime. “He runs this place, though I heard he might lose his job, all because of Della.”

  “What could our aunt possibly have to do with him being fired?” Pat asked.

  “Didn’t you know? Latham was supposed to sponsor the festivities, but at the last minute, Della canceled his participation out of nowhere. It was a real black mark against the store, and the owner is threatening to get rid of him because of it.”

  “Why did Della change her mind?” I asked her.

  “I only wish that I knew. You’ll have to ask her. When I tried to talk some sense into her, she refused to give me an answer that made any kind of sense at all. We were counting on that money to break even. Honestly, I don’t know what we’re going to do now.” She lowered her voice again as she said, “Shhh. Here he comes.”

  The grocery store manager walked over to us and frowned at Henrietta for a moment before offering my brother and me a smile. “Hello, folks. Was there something I could help you with?”

  “We’re just here to do a little shopping,” I told him.

  “These are Della’s people, Latham,” Henrietta said. “This is Annie, and this is Pat.”

  I don’t know why she’d felt the need to make introductions, especially since it was clear that Latham was not all that pleased to learn of our local connections. “Nice to meet you,” he said
perfunctorily. “If we can help in any way, be sure to ask one of our associates.”

  He started to walk away when Pat said, “We’d love to know the real reason why our aunt cancelled your involvement with Winter Wonderland at the last minute, if you wouldn’t mind sharing the information with us.”

  Henrietta’s face went white. “Latham, I don’t know where they heard about that, but I didn’t say a word.” She looked at Pat as though she wanted to choke him on the spot, an emotion I felt myself occasionally. I was surprised that my brother had taken such a direct approach, but since he’d opened that particular can of worms, I had no choice but to chime in myself.

  “Believe me, we understand Aunt Della can be difficult at times,” I said, “but anything you could tell us might be useful.”

  Henrietta glanced at her watch before the grocery manager could reply. “Is that the time already? I really must be going.”

  The woman shot out of there so quickly she could have been on wheels.

  “Ask your aunt,” Latham said coldly after Henrietta was gone.

  “We will, but right now, we’re asking you,” I said.

  “Fine. It’s no secret. I told Della that for the money she was demanding, I expected more of a push from the festival. She told me that I was being ridiculous and that she was doing me a favor by even allowing the store to be a sponsor. I’m not proud of it, but I lost my temper, and I told her she could go howl at the moon if that was the way she felt about it. Della took out our contract and tore it up right in front of me. I knew that I’d made a mistake and let my feelings get the better of me, but when I asked her to reconsider, she flatly refused. She had our store name pulled from every bit of advertising and told me that she’d be refunding my contributions as soon as they balanced the books for the event. When my boss found out, she went ballistic, and if I don’t increase store profits, and quickly, I’m on my way out. That aunt of yours is as stubborn as a mule, if you’ll pardon me for saying so.”

  “No need to apologize. It runs in our family,” I said. “You must have been really angry with her.”

  “Well, I wasn’t happy with her, if that’s what you’re asking,” Latham said.

  “Were you mad enough to kill her?” Pat asked him quietly.

  “What? No! Of course not.”

  “I’m curious about something. When exactly did all of this happen?” I asked him.

  “It was on the morning of the parade,” he admitted. “You wouldn’t believe how quickly she had our store logo removed from the main float, let alone the places it was posted around the town supper.”

  “Thanks for talking to us so candidly about it. We’re sorry to keep you,” I said. “I know you must be busy.”

  “Yes, I have my hands full at the moment,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold your aunt’s behavior against you if you don’t hold mine against me,” he said with a sad smile.

  “Consider it done,” I said.

  Once Latham was back at the registers, Pat asked, “Why did you let him off the hook so easily, Sis?”

  “He’s not the one we’re after,” I said.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “The first attempt on Della’s life was the plummeting snowman, and that happened the day before the parade,” I said. “That’s long before Latham and our aunt had their blowout fight.”

  “What if that part was coincidence, but the rest of it was him trying to get rid of her?” Pat asked me.

  “I suppose that it’s possible, but can we really pick and choose the attempts to make them match our theories? I say we keep our eye on him, but he can’t go on our main list.”

  “I can live with that,” Pat said. “Man oh man, can you believe that?”

  “Which part?”

  “Well, we already knew that our aunt had a quick temper, but that seemed downright reckless even for her, cancelling the store’s involvement at the last minute like that. It must have killed their last chance of making a profit,” he answered.

  “I don’t know what to tell you. Let’s go shopping.”

  In short order, we had charcoal briquettes, barbeque sauce, onions, carrots, green peppers, and olive oil. Going to the meat department, all we needed now were the ribs.

  There were none in the display case.

  I rang a bell by the window that led into the back, and a pretty young woman in her early twenties came out from the back. She was dressed in a white apron and wore a cute little white hat as well. Her name tag said that she was STACI, with an I. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but certainly not her.

  “May I help you?”

  “I see you are out of ribs,” I said.

  “Pork or beef?” she asked.

  “Pork.”

  “Full or baby back?”

  “Baby back,” I said.

  “How many people are you feeding?”

  “Four, maybe five,” I said.

  “Give me a second,” she said with a grin. “I’ll be right back.”

  Two minutes later, Staci came back carrying a large black foam tray, shrink-wrapped and loaded with my requested ribs. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks. Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Staci?”

  “Go ahead. If I don’t like it, I’ll just ignore it,” she replied with a grin.

  “How long have you been a butcher?” I asked out of curiosity.

  “Oh, this isn’t my profession. It’s more of a hobby, really.”

  Pat laughed beside me. “Really? It’s an interesting hobby to have.”

  “For a girl, you mean?” she asked without a hint of malice in her voice.

  “More like for someone your age,” Pat said.

  “I’m not at all certain that’s any better,” Staci answered, still smiling. “Dad’s the butcher here normally, but he’s off hunting with my uncles, so I’m filling in. Usually I’m a dental hygienist at Dr. Pickering’s office, but she’s off this week as well, so I was free.”

  “Is she hunting, too?”

  “Maybe for a suntan in the Caribbean,” the girl said, laughing. “Dad wanted a son to join him in the trade, but my brother had no interest in the profession. Me, I took to it immediately. You should have seen me dissecting a frog in biology class. I’ve never been squeamish, so Dad offered to teach me, and I was happy just spending time with him.” She laughed. “That’s way more than you need to know, isn’t it? Enjoy those ribs.”

  “We will,” I said as Pat and I walked away.

  “I just love small towns,” he said. “You meet the most interesting people.”

  “You can meet them in big cities, too,” I said.

  “Maybe so, but they don’t often slow down long enough to tell you their life stories, especially over raw meat.”

  “I guess that all depends on who you run into,” I answered. “Most folks have an interesting story to tell. They’re just not as open to sharing them as Staci is.”

  “Then more folks should be like her,” Pat said. “Now, should we buy this stuff and head back to Della’s place?”

  “We’d better. I have to do a preliminary seasoning on the Dutch oven before I start cooking with it, so we’d better get started if there’s any hope that we’re going to be eating tonight.”

  “I vote for eating. Always. Not eating isn’t even an option, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Then let’s get to it.”

  CHAPTER 13: PAT

  “Do you mind if we stop by the mayor’s office on the way back to Della’s?” I asked Annie after we loaded up our groceries.

  “Why, do you want to get in another round of questioning before we start getting ready for dinner tonight?” she asked.

  “No, but we’re going to need firewood for the seasoning, and I’d feel better asking him directly, even though Della said we had his permission. Besides, we still have to invite him to the meal,” I reminded her.

  Annie looked at the clock on the dashboard before she answered me. “We can stop,
but we can’t talk too long. I need to marinate the ribs, season the Dutch oven, and then get started on dinner.”

  “It shouldn’t take long,” I assured her. I wasn’t about to get into another lengthy interview session if I could avoid it, but a lot of that depended on Davis and Serena. At least we didn’t have to worry about the meat going bad in the car. The temperature outside was cold enough to keep it safe for as long as we needed it to be.

  When Annie and I walked into the mayor’s office in city hall, I was surprised to find Chief Cameron in deep conversation with Serena, the mayor’s secretary. For the life of me, it appeared that the two of them were conspiring together about something, exchanging whispers.

  “Are we interrupting something?” I asked them both.

  The police chief frowned the moment he saw us, but Serena’s reaction was more interesting. She began to blush, and then she tried to stammer out an explanation. “We were just…talking.”

  “We could see that,” I said. “Was it about anything interesting?”

  “You don’t have to tell him anything, Serena,” Chief Cameron told her.

  “It’s not important. Chief, if you’re here to see the mayor, we’d be glad to wait our turn,” Annie said with her brightest and most insincere smile.

  “No, thanks. I was just on my way out,” the police chief said. “Speaking of which, how long are you two planning on staying in Gateway Lake?”

  “Why, do we need permission to hang around?” I asked him.

  “Of course not. I know you need to get back to your store,” he said, “and I’d hate for something to happen to it while you were away.”

  “No worries on that account,” I said, trying not to show any reaction to his tone of voice. “The place is in good hands.”

  “Okay, then,” he said, and then he left, but not before he whispered something to Serena that I couldn’t quite make out.

  “I didn’t realize you two were an item,” Annie asked her after the police chief was gone. “How long have you been dating?”

  “We’re not dating,” she said a little indignantly. “What gave you that idea?”

  “The fact that he was so protective of you just makes it look that way,” I said. I didn’t believe it any more than Annie did, but if we got Serena flustered, maybe she’d disclose something she wouldn’t want us to know.

 

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