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

by Jessica Beck

  Jenna paused quite a bit then herself before she spoke again. “No, your instincts are right on the money. Pat, I’ve been lied to before by men I cared about, and I always hated it. The plain, unvarnished truth is better in my mind than the prettiest lie, no matter how much it might hurt hearing it.”

  “Then we’re a good match, because I’m terrible at lying. Not enough practice, I guess.”

  “Let’s keep it that way, shall we? Any idea when you’re coming home?”

  “You don’t miss me by any chance, do you?”

  “Only every day,” she said with a laugh.

  “We just got here yesterday,” I answered, feeling the joy in my heart explode. Unlike my relationship in the past with Molly, which always seemed to be full of effort, my interactions with Jenna almost always left me smiling.

  “I can’t help myself,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

  “What can I say? I guess I’m just loveable.”

  “I can think of one thing you could say,” she replied.

  We weren’t at the “I love you” stage yet, but I knew without having to think about it what she needed to hear, which was fortunately something that I was happy enough to tell her. “I miss you, too, Jenna. My days aren’t nearly good enough without you in them.”

  “That’s a good boy,” she said in a way she might praise a dog for doing the right thing. I found it charming rather than insulting, knowing how much Jenna loved all animals. “I knew you could do it.”

  “I appreciate your patience,” I said.

  I was about to ask her if we could get together when Annie and I got back home when she said, “Oops. Here comes Mr. Daniels. I’ve got to go. Stay safe until you can come back to me.”

  It was one of the sweetest ways of saying good-bye that I could imagine, and I felt myself smiling as I answered, “I’ll do my best.” I hesitated, wanting to add something that made her feel as special as she’d just made me feel, but before I could come up with something, I realized that the line was dead. Oh, well. She knew how I felt about her, and that should be enough to hold her until I could tell her in person.

  Annie spoke, and until that moment, I hadn’t even realized that she’d come back. “Wow, that must have been some phone call. I can’t remember the last time I saw that big a smile from you.”

  “Have you spoken with Timothy today?” I asked her.

  “No, but I know that he’s so wrapped up in his logs going up that I might as well be here if I can’t be with him. The man’s obsessed with that cabin he’s building.”

  “Let me think,” I said as I scratched my chin. “Who does that sound like? Don’t tell me. Give me a second, I’ll get it.”

  “I freely admit it,” Annie said. “I love my cabin in the woods.” My twin sister leaned forward over the pot and took in a deep breath. “We’re cooking now.”

  “I certainly hope so,” I said. “Should we pull the picnic table over closer to the fire? I’m not sure how we’re going to seat everyone if they all show up.”

  “That’s right, you didn’t hear the latest development,” Annie said.

  I braced myself for more bad news. “What happened?”

  “Nothing dire, so there are no worries on that account. Aunt Della unilaterally decided that we’d be dining inside this evening.”

  “Is that all?”

  “That’s it.”

  Annie looked at me as though she was expecting some pushback, but I just nodded. “That makes sense to me. The temperature is starting to drop, and there aren’t enough seats out here anyway, let alone room to put the food that we’re going to be serving. It’s not a bad idea.”

  “Wow, you really are warming up to her, aren’t you?”

  “I’m trying. After all, when it comes down to it, I’m just as mature as the next guy,” I answered.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Annie replied, showing a grin to take the sting out of her comment, not that I thought she’d been taking a shot at me. After all, I agreed with her. Grown men could act like boys with the slightest provocation, and not everyone found that behavior charming.

  I poked the coals again and saw that they were beginning to break apart, losing their ability to throw off the heat we needed. “Should I start another batch of charcoal?”

  “That’s probably not a bad idea,” she said, and I pulled twenty more briquettes out of the bag. At home I would have used my briquette chimney, a neat sheet metal contraption that allowed the coals to light and burn at the optimal rate, but here I just stacked them in a pyramid and lit them as best I could. Soon enough they were afire, and ten minutes later, they were ready to put in place of the spent ones that had now devolved into white ash.

  “In half an hour, we’ll need ten more,” she said.

  “To brown the top of the ribs, right?” I asked.

  “Hey, you’re pretty good at this, too, aren’t you?”

  “What can I say? I’m related to someone who’s an expert in outdoor Dutch oven cooking. Some of it was bound to rub off on me sooner or later.”

  “That’s always been my hope and dream,” Annie said with a faint smile. “Why don’t you throw another log onto the fire? I’d like to keep it going until we’re ready to go in.”

  I did as she suggested, ready for any excuse to add to the flames. I was glad that I’d pushed the pile of burning logs to one side, so we’d still have that heat to warm up to. The briquettes were nice, and they were certainly dependable, but there was something about a real fire with hard wood outside that I loved; whether it was the radiant heat, the leaping flames, the delightful smells, or the wood smoke leaping up to the sky, I couldn’t say. All in all, it was a nice place to be, despite a murder having occurred so close by, and so recently at that, and I could see why our aunt loved her home and why the mayor had moved next door, in spite of, or because of, his feelings for Della.

  I was about to ask Annie something else about our list of suspects when I heard someone calling out to us down along the lake path.

  It appeared that our chance to discuss what happened next was over.

  We had company, and based on who it was, I knew that we needed to watch what we said from there on out.

  “I see you found the firewood,” Davis Morton said as he approached. As he warmed his hands over the fire, he looked at the Dutch oven and the charcoal briquettes on it. “You know, when you told me you were using charcoal, I thought you were crazy. I don’t know why, but I just figured that you’d be cooking with the wood, too.”

  “We can do that, and often at home we do just that,” Annie explained, “but this way we’ll get a consistent heat throughout the process. Not that we aren’t enjoying your wood, too. It makes a great fire.”

  “I’m happy to have someone burn some of it,” he said. “I haven’t had a fire in weeks, myself.”

  Was he sharing a little trivial information with us, or was he trying to alibi himself if we’d found the murder weapon? I couldn’t possibly know yet, but I wanted to find out. “Don’t you like having a fire?” I asked him.

  “Sure, outside it’s fun, but I hate the smell of wood smoke in the house. I had a fire at Christmas, but the hearth has been stone cold ever since, and come to think of it, I haven’t had one outside, either.” He glanced down at the flames. “It seems to be doing a pretty good job of it, isn’t it?”

  “Grade A,” I said. “It must be tough living in that big old house by yourself.”

  “No more than it is for your aunt to be alone in her quaint little cottage,” the mayor said. “Besides, I manage to keep myself busy.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” I said. “It’s a shame someone had to ruin this tranquil place with murder.”

  “What are you going to do? The world’s gotten to be a dangerous place,” he said calmly.

  “Have the police managed to dig up any more leads?” Annie asked him.

  “About that. I’ve been meaning to discuss that with you. I shouldn’t have sa
id anything about what they found down the path. I got ahead of myself.”

  “We didn’t say a word to anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I said.

  “I’m sure that you haven’t,” he replied, though he really had no reason to believe that, “but Chief Cameron is playing this one pretty tight to the vest, and he’s warned me not to talk to you about it anymore.”

  “You’re the mayor, Davis,” Annie said. “Can he do that?”

  “I may be his boss on paper, but he runs the show when it comes to law enforcement here, and besides, he’s not entirely wrong. We need to work together, not against each other. Anyway, I just thought I owed you an explanation as to why I wouldn’t be sharing any more information with you about the case.”

  “But he still believes that the flashlight was the weapon that precipitated her drowning, right?” I asked him.

  “Pat, I just told you I couldn’t talk about that.”

  “This isn’t new; it’s about something you already told us,” I countered. “Was the flashlight used to knock her out or not?”

  “I hate myself for having to say this, but you aren’t giving me in any choice,” Davis said. “No comment.”

  “That’s a first,” I said with a wry smile. “You must be the only newspaperman to ever give that response to a question from someone who’s not writing a story.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. It happens all of the time. You’d be amazed at how many civilians meddle in police investigations.”

  “Was that a direct shot at us?” I asked him coolly. The mayor’s tune had changed quite a bit since the day before, and I wondered what kind of leverage Chief Cameron was using on him.

  “It applies wherever it applies,” he said. “Let’s talk about more pleasant things, shall we? What smells so good?”

  “We’re having rubbed pork baby back ribs, caramelized onions, green peppers, and carrots.”

  “Wow, my mouth is watering already. When do we eat?”

  “It will be at least half an hour,” she said. “Pat, go ahead and add the last batch of briquettes to the top.”

  I did as she suggested, and then it was just a matter of waiting for the meat to brown up. Patience wasn’t necessarily my strong suit, but Annie had acquired a great deal of it, at least when it came to cast iron cooking. The best results were generated from low and slow cooking, and she’d learned from experience not to try to rush the process.

  “I’m going in and talking to Della,” he said. “I’ll see you two later.”

  After he was out of earshot, I asked, “Should one of us go in with him?”

  “You can go. I’m watching the ribs,” Annie said.

  “Fine,” I replied as I put down the last piece of wood I’d been ready to add to the fire. “I may not be as diplomatic as you are, but I’ll give it a shot.”

  “On second thought, I’ll go,” Annie answered. “Rotate the lid every seven minutes so we get an even browning.”

  “I can do that,” I said, happy that I didn’t have to go back into the kitchen with Della and Davis. I was usually a pretty levelheaded fellow, at least in my own estimation, but I was off my game, and Annie knew it. I was going to have to give up the resentment I felt toward Della for abandoning my mother all those years ago once and for all, apparently like Annie and Kathleen had already managed to do. After all, I’d done some pretty stupid things in my past. How would I feel if folks continued to hold it against me so many years later? Though the betrayal still felt fresh to me, it had happened a long time ago, and Della was clearly remorseful for her past behavior. It was time to grow up a little and let it go, and the best way I could start to do that was to drop this ridiculous insistence that I not call her my aunt. She was family, and I was doing a disservice to my mother by continuing to hold a grudge against her.

  Sometimes it amazed me that no matter how grown up I felt most of the time, there were times when I could still act like a petulant little kid.

  CHAPTER 16: ANNIE

  I was glad that I’d volunteered to take Pat’s place inside. I knew that my brother was perfectly capable of watching our meal, but I still wasn’t so sure that he would have been all right in the house with Aunt Della and Davis. He’d come around soon enough; I knew that without the slightest doubt. My brother was a fine and good man, someone who made me proud to be so closely related to.

  “Della, they need to go,” Davis said as I started into the kitchen where the two of them were having a whispered conversation. Neither of them had seen me, so I quickly ducked back into the corridor.

  “Davis, they’re my family. I can’t just ask them to leave, especially after I abandoned them and their mother all those years ago. It wouldn’t be right, and I’m not going to do it.”

  “They’re stirring up trouble here for you,” the mayor said. “Do you want all of your neighbors and friends turning on you?”

  “I don’t see how Annie and Pat are causing that,” Della said.

  “I’ve already had several complaints about them,” the mayor said. “Cam’s on my back to make them disappear, and I can’t say I blame him this time. How’s he supposed to investigate Cheryl’s murder if they keep mucking around in his business?”

  That was interesting. I would love to know which citizens of Gateway Lake in particular had complained about us. Maybe if I stayed quiet long enough, I’d find out.

  “Need I remind you that I asked them to come here? Someone’s been trying to kill me, and I believe that without the twins’ presence here, I’d already be dead.”

  Pat suspected that as well, and I had no reason to dispute it. It was nice seeing our aunt sticking up for us, given the vehemence of the mayor’s pleas.

  “Are we really going to go over this again? I told you before they even showed up that the snowman falling from the roof and the parade push were both just accidents. Who was there to catch you when you nearly fell? I was standing right there, and I didn’t see a soul try to push you in front of that fire truck.”

  “What about the poison at the supper?” she asked him.

  “Della, you got some bad food,” he said. “It could have happened to any of us.”

  “But it didn’t, did it? It happened to me. You’re not forgetting Cheryl Simmons, are you? She was murdered in my jacket coming from my house at night. How could that possibly be a coincidence?”

  “Cheryl had enemies of her own,” Davis said.

  “None that I know of,” Della said, the shock and surprise clear in her voice. “Who could possibly want to hurt her?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss that, but rest assured, the police chief has his suspects,” Davis said. “You’re going to have to take my word for it. If you’d let Chief Cameron handle the situation, nobody will bother you again.”

  “I didn’t realize that the two of you had gotten so close all of a sudden, Davis,” she told him.

  “We haven’t always seen eye to eye, it’s true, but I have big plans for this small town, and Cam is finally on board now. He wants to see this area grow just as much as I do, and if we work together, we’ll make it happen. What we don’t need, neither one of us, is a black spot on Gateway Lake’s image right now. As soon as Cheryl’s murder is solved, the police chief and I are going to get busy with our plans, and we won’t forget who helped us, either. This could be good for you as well, Della.”

  I could feel her wavering as she said, “Honestly, Davis, I don’t know what to do. When I speak with the twins, I think one thing, but when I talk to you, I start to have my doubts that this isn’t all just in my mind.”

  It was time to step in before Aunt Della decided to send us away. I had a feeling in my gut that if Pat and I left town without finding the person who was trying to kill her, we’d never see her alive again. “Hey, there,” I said, doing my best to sound happy about interrupting them.

  “How long have you been standing there?” Davis asked me, trying to be nonchalant as he asked the question.

  “
I just came in. Why, what did I miss?” I looked at him impishly, hoping to get some kind of rise out of him, but he was too good a politician to let anything slip.

  “We were just talking about how excited we were to taste those ribs of yours,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Della?”

  This was the moment of truth. Depending on what my aunt said next, I’d know whose side she was really on. “Actually, the mayor was just urging me to send you and your brother away,” she said, her face flushing as she did so.

  “Honestly, it wasn’t anything as dramatic as all of that,” Davis said, backpedalling quickly. “I just mentioned that the police chief is having trouble getting folks to discuss the case with him after you two got them all stirred up.”

  “Who exactly did we stir up?” I asked sweetly.

  “They were his words, not mine,” Davis was quick to add. “If you want anything more specific than that, you’ll have to talk to him about it.”

  “Oh, believe me, we will,” I said. I took my aunt’s hands in mine as I said, “There’s something you should know. We’re not leaving until we get to the bottom of this, and that’s a promise. Nobody else in town might believe you, but Pat and I do.”

  “That’s all I need to know,” she said.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I just remembered some work I have to do back at the office that’s rather pressing,” the mayor said.

  “Does that mean you won’t be coming back for dinner?” I asked him with a smile. Maybe I was gloating about my victory a little, but who cared?

  “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best to make it,” he said, and then he beat a hasty retreat.

  After he was gone, I said, “Thanks for having our backs, Aunt Della.”

  “That’s what family’s all about,” she said. “It took me a long time to realize that, but it’s etched in my heart now. I just wish I could ask your mother for her forgiveness.”

  “Mom would have given it freely, and you know it, but allow me to do it by proxy. On behalf of the Marsh clan, we all forgive you.”