by Jessica Beck
“Sounds good to me.”
“I hope you’re right, Greg,” I said, remembering how frightened Francie had sounded.
“You and me both.”
Francie’s place was dark when we got there, but Greg and I got out and checked anyway. After knocking on the front door repeatedly and ringing the bell, it was clear that if she were there, she wasn’t coming out.
“Let’s go to the bakery, then,” Greg said.
The results there were different, much to my relief. As we parked down the block and walked toward her shop, I could see a hint of light coming from inside. As we neared the bakery, it was clear that Francie was in back. The door was cracked open just enough to see her sitting in one corner, slumped down in a chair. I banged on the door with my fist, but she didn’t move.
Something was wrong.
“Greg, what should we do?”
“Don’t panic,” he said as he tried the front door, only to find it locked.
“I’m calling Sheriff Croft,” I said as I grabbed my cell phone.
“Hold on a second,” Greg said. “Let’s go around back and try that door first.”
I kept my phone in my hand as we made our way to the back of the shop. Guilt flooded through me for turning her away, and I knew that later I’d feel a flood of regret for my part in it, but for the moment, I just wanted to get to Francie to see what had happened to her.
“It’s open,” Greg said in surprise when he tried the door. We both rushed in to where Francie sat, and I called her name again as I reached out and touched her shoulder.
She jerked at the touch of my hand, and as her eyes opened wide, I saw the twin tracings of thin wire coming from the speakers in her ears. She had an iPod in, and had evidently cranked it up to its highest volume.
“What are you two doing here?” she asked as she pulled the speaker bud out of her ears.
“What were you listening to?” I asked her.
“I had my Beethoven cranked all the way up,” she said. “It soothes my nerves, but any good I got out of that is gone now. You nearly scared me blind just now.”
“Sorry, but it was the only way to get your attention.”
Francie looked around, and then asked, “How did you two even get in here?”
“The back door was unlocked,” I said. “I thought you didn’t feel safe.”
“I have to latch it from inside, and sometimes it doesn’t catch all the way,” she said.
“What has you so spooked, Francie?” my husband asked her.
“I was reading a scary mystery novel, and all of a sudden, I had the feeling that someone was after me. I panicked, and that’s when I came by your place.”
“Why would someone be after you?”
She looked distressed as she admitted, “Come on, everyone in town thinks I might have killed that evil man.”
“You shouldn’t have to worry about that anymore,” I said. “It turns out that you have an alibi after all.”
“How is that possible?” she asked, clearly confused by my statement.
“Pete Hampton was out front watching you work. Let me guess, that latch doesn’t work too well either, does it?”
She nodded. “Boy, am I ever glad I never got that fixed. So, is it true? I’m really in the clear?”
“That’s how it sounds to us,” Greg said.
“Does the sheriff know?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out right now.” I called Moose, and he picked up on the second ring. Answering it, he said, “Your father is driving me crazy with questions. You talk to him.”
Before I could protest, my dad was on the other end of the line. “Victoria, your grandfather is exasperating beyond belief.”
“Join the club,” I said. “Do me a favor and put him back on, Dad.”
“She wants to talk to you, but only Heaven above knows why,” I heard my dad say as he handed the phone back to his father.
“What is it?” Moose asked, the irritation plain to hear in his voice.
“We found Francie.”
“Is she okay?” Moose asked quickly.
“She’s fine, but she wants to know if Sheriff Croft knows about her alibi yet.”
“I told Pete to call him,” Moose said.
“Well, it might not be a bad idea to call the sheriff and make sure he got the message,” I said.
“How am I going to explain to him how I knew about it?” Moose asked.
“That’s your problem, isn’t it? Call me as soon as you find out. We’re staying with Francie until we know that it’s all clear.”
“I’ll handle it,” Moose said.
After I hung up, I asked, “Why don’t we all stay right here together until we know for sure?”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that,” Francie said.
My husband spoke up a few minutes later as he pointed to a tray of iced cupcakes. “How much are those apiece?” he asked her.
“Greg, are you really that hungry?” I asked.
“Hey, I never had dessert tonight.”
“Don’t tell me that, I saw you sneaking a piece of apple pie as I was closing out the register report.”
“It’s not nice to spy on your husband,” Greg said with a grin. “Besides, that was a new recipe I was trying out. Trust me, it was entirely work-related.”
He looked so innocent in his protest that I had to laugh, and I knew that the battle was lost. “How much for two, Francie?” I asked with a grin.
“Actually, you both would be doing me a favor if you tasted them for me. When I’m nervous, I bake, and lately, I’ve been baking like crazy trying out new flavors. I have four that you can choose from tonight.”
“What are they?” Greg asked as he rubbed his hands together.
As she pointed to four separate rows, each in turn, she said, “This one’s strawberry lime, this one’s kiwi and mango, this is orange papaya, and the last one is just a new chocolate recipe I wanted to try out.”
I knew without waiting for an answer which flavor my husband would choose. He loved chocolate as much as any woman I’d ever met. I reached for one of those and handed it to him.
“You know me pretty well, don’t you?” he asked with a grin.
“I’d like to think so,” I said as I grabbed one of the orange papaya flavors. With the first bite, I knew that I’d chosen poorly. The orange was there, though just barely. The papaya, however, was so overwhelming that I needed some water to wash its pungent presence out of my mouth.
Francie had been watching me closely, and she frowned as she saw my reaction. “The flavor’s a little strong, isn’t it?”
“And a bit unbalanced, as well,” I said as I gulped down a glass of water.
“Was it really that bad, Victoria?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. What happened? Did you use an entire papaya in each cupcake?”
“No, but that’s not off by much. Note to self, tone it down, and balance the flavors more.”
I glanced over at Greg, who was carefully licking the wrapper of his cupcake now that the cake itself was gone.
“Was it that good?” I asked him.
He grinned like a little boy, even down to having a bit of chocolate icing on his chin, and then he said, “I’m not sure. I probably should try another before I give anyone my official opinion.”
I laughed outright. “In your dreams.” I turned to Francie then and said, “You’ve got a winner there.”
“We’ll take a dozen at the diner tomorrow,” Greg said. We sometimes offered other treats at The Charming Moose, especially if it passed the taste test of being worthy, which evidently this one had.
“I wasn’t trying to drum up more business,” she protested.
“Then consider it a happy coincidence,” Greg said as my cell phone rang.
Moose told me quickly that the sheriff was now aware of Francie’s alibi, and had already confirmed it. As far as the police were concerned, she was in the clear.
“Does it feel
better knowing that?” I asked her after I conveyed the news.
“More than I can tell you,” she said.
“Francie, is there a possibility that you weren’t being paranoid, and that someone really was out to get you?”
She laughed and waved it off. “No, I’m pretty sure that there’s not a chance. Chalk it up to my overactive imagination.”
“If you’re sure,” I said.
Greg took my hand. “You heard the lady, she’s positive. Let’s go home,” he said.
I agreed, albeit a little reluctantly, but I knew that there was nothing else we could do tonight. As we drove back home, I told Greg, “Thanks for coming out with me tonight.”
“Are you kidding? I got a cupcake out of the deal. I should be thanking you.”
“Believe me, every questioning session I have with my suspects doesn’t end with cupcakes.”
“More’s the pity,” Greg said with a grin. “Do you still want to have that fire?”
“I thought we ruined it,” I said.
“Give me ten minutes, and I’ll have the wet wood out and a new blaze going. What do you say, Victoria?”
“I’m all for it.”
I thought about the rest of our suspect list, and wondered if we were missing an opportunity to do more questioning since the diner was closed for the night, but in the end, I decided that my time with my husband was more important than what I might be able to find out with the little amount of time and energy I had left for that night.
Besides, I wasn’t about to pass up the chance to snuggle in front of a fire with my husband. No matter how much time I spent with him at the diner, I cherished the nights we had alone at home, away from our customers, and even our family.
Chapter 13
“The Charming Moose,” I said as I answered the telephone at the diner the next morning. I was waiting for Moose to get in so we could start digging again, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t work the front until he showed up.
“Victoria, this is Cynthia Wilson. Do you have a second?”
I looked around the diner and saw that most of our customers were either waiting for their food, or happily eating their breakfasts. “Sure. What’s up?”
“I hate to keep bringing this up, but I’m still worried about my business.”
“Why, are customers not coming in anymore?”
“No, it’s not that. I’m talking about those papers that Howard Lance served me,” she answered.
“Have you been talking to Evelyn again?” Cynthia’s mother was the very definition of a worrywart, and she’d definitely rubbed off on her daughter over the years.
“You know that we speak just about every night. She’s still concerned, and honestly, so am I.”
“Well, there’s no reason to be. Howard’s gone.”
“Maybe so, but does anyone know if he has any heirs?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted.
“Wouldn’t it be prudent to find out?” she asked me. “What’s to keep someone else from trying to steal our businesses now that Howard is gone?”
I took a deep breath, and tried to keep calm as I said, “That’s just it. It was all just one big bluff, Cynthia. Howard Lance had no more right to our land than Captain Ahab.”
“Who’s that?” she asked, sounding worried yet again. “Is someone else going to try to evict us?”
“He’s from Moby Dick,” I said. “Surely you read that book in school.”
“I must have been sick that day,” she said. Cynthia wasn’t known as one of our town’s great minds, but honestly, I had expected her to at least get that literary reference.
“What I’m trying to say is that the issue is dead.” Much like Howard Lance, I could have added, but I didn’t want to get Cynthia worked up again.
“I just wish I could believe that,” she said. “Victoria, do you happen to know if he had any cash on him when he died?”
What an odd question that was. “I have no idea about that, either. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve just been wondering what he might do with the money if anybody actually paid him off to get rid of him.”
“As far as I know, nobody did, though,” I said.
“Okay. Woops, I’ve got to go. My nine o’clock appointment is here.”
As I hung up, Bob Chastain walked in the door and hesitated at my station by the cash register. “Who was that?” he asked as lightly as he could. “I could hear the shrillness of her voice from all the way over here.”
“Cynthia Wilson just called to chat,” I said, not wanting to get into the status of one of my suspects with another of them.
“She always was as flighty as a hummingbird,” Bob said.
“What brings you by for breakfast?” I asked him. Bob had lunch at our place every now and then, but as far as I knew, he never made it in for breakfast.
“I thought I’d shake things up a little. I heard the Moose Special was pretty good.”
“It is, if you’ve got an appetite,” I admitted.
“What all is on it?”
“All of my grandfather’s favorite breakfast items,” I said. “Two eggs, two pieces of toast, one pancake, one sausage patty or two strips of bacon, hash browns or grits, and a side of gravy.”
“Wow, does anybody actually order that?” I knew that Bob was proud of his weight loss, and I couldn’t imagine him eating a third of what I’d just listed.
“You’d be surprised,” I said as I pointed to a far table. Three gentlemen in their seventies were arguing about the price of turnips, in voices loud enough to rattle the windows. “They’re all having the same meal.”
“Somebody needs to tell them to quiet down,” Bob said.
“They worked side by side in a factory for thirty years, and that was before anybody was concerned about hearing loss. They’re good men who worked hard to support their families, and if they want to come in here and shout at each other once a week, I’m all for it.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know,” Bob said. “They must take their cars somewhere else to get fixed. I don’t work on Model Ts,” he added with a grin.
“I happen to know for a fact that they fix their cars themselves.”
“How could you know that?” Bob asked.
“They discussed it at length last week,” I said with a smile. “They claimed that they were the last three shade-tree mechanics in all of Jasper Fork.”
“They’re probably not that far off,” Bob said.
“Have you decided what you’d like to order?”
“How about a cup of coffee,” he said, “to go.”
“Are you sure that’s going to hold you?”
“I’ll be fine,” he said.
I got him the coffee, rang him up, and then went into the kitchen after Bob was gone. “Did you see that?” I asked Greg.
“Sorry, I had one eye on the eggs and another on the bacon. I don’t have much time to look around this time of day. What did I miss?”
“Bob Chastain came by for a cup of coffee, but I have a hunch he was looking for more than that.”
“Did he get fresh with you, Victoria? I’ll teach him a lesson about flirting with a married woman if I have to.”
I couldn’t tell if my husband was serious or not. He didn’t mind when I chatted with our customers, but if one got overly aggressive, he’d find an excuse to come out of the kitchen, likely as not sporting a butcher knife or some other sinister cooking tool.
“No, it was all perfectly harmless. Oh, Cynthia Wilson called me just before that, and she’s still stressed out about Howard Lance’s paperwork coming back to haunt every last one of us.”
“You should know better than to listen to her,” Greg said. “She’s got a good heart, but it’s not too difficult to upset her.” He looked around, and then asked, “Hey, where’s your partner in crime? I thought we’d see Moose around here by now, and your shift’s over for now.”
“I don’t want to push him,” I said. “You know how he likes to
sleep in.”
“I do not,” Moose proclaimed loud enough to get the attention of even the retired factory workers. When they saw that it was just my grandfather, they went back to their discussion. I’d tuned them out before, and it wasn’t hard to do it again. “I was working.”
“On the case?” I asked softly. Was I going to have to discipline my own grandfather yet again? This was getting old really fast.
“In an indirect way,” he admitted. Moose must have seen the storm clouds rolling across my face because he quickly added, “It was just a little preliminary telephone work. We need to take another truck ride, if you’re ready.”
“Where are we going this time?” I asked as I grabbed my jacket.
“We’re headed back to Laurel Landing. I spoke with Happy, and he said that it might not be a bad idea for me to come by.”
“You mean us, right?” I asked.
“I came here for you first, didn’t I?” he asked. “What more can I do?”
I realized that I was being overly sensitive, but not because of any hurt feelings. I didn’t want anything to happen to my grandfather, especially when I was so closely tied into what he was doing. I kissed his cheek, and then said, “I’m sorry about that.”
He put one hand behind his right ear and asked, “Excuse me? I didn’t quite get that. There was too much noise in the diner.”
“Then you’ll just have to do without hearing it again because I’m not about to repeat myself,” I said with a smile.
Greg said, “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen. See you two later.”
“You can count on it,” I said as I grabbed my jacket. “Well, are we leaving, or are we just going to stand around the rest of the morning?”
Moose started to protest when he saw my grin. “You’ll be the death of me yet, granddaughter.”
“I sincerely hope not,” I said, and we started for the door.
We never made it out, though.
Someone was blocking our way, and I wasn’t all that excited to see him.
“We were just leaving,” I said as I tried to sidestep our sheriff.
“Where are you both off to now?” he asked, “or do I really want to know?”
“How about a little ‘don’t ask-don’t tell’ at the moment?” I asked.