by Maddie Day
One of the ladies said, “That’s just plain disgusting.” She didn’t whisper, either.
“Right out in public, too,” the other one chimed in.
I ignored it, as did my friends. I was sure they’d heard it all before. I took over menus along with the coffeepot. “Coffee?”
Betsy shook her head and pulled a bottle of Moët champagne out of the bag on her lap. She set it on the table, the moisture on the cold glass glistening. “Forget the coffee. We’re drinking this.”
“Celebrating?” I asked.
Christina looked up at me with a face-splitting smile. “We’re getting hitched.” She laid her hand on Betsy’s. “Now that we can.”
“Awesome.” I high-fived her and then Betsy. “Good for you. I’m really happy for you both.” Indiana’s challenge to same-sex marriage had only recently been defeated. I glanced at Zen and her friend. Zen looked pleased for them, too, but Karinde frowned.
“Thanks,” Betsy said.
“I’ll bring wine glasses. Sorry I don’t have champagne flutes.” I headed for the shelf of glasses.
One of the two ladies stopped me. “Are you sure you want that type in here, hon?” she asked, tilting her head toward Christina and gang.
“Do I want my friends in here? Of course I do.” I kept my tone friendly. “I serve everyone who wants to eat here, who can pay, and who behaves themselves.”
She cleared her throat, glanced at her dining companion, and back at me. “Well, bless your heart. What do we owe you today?”
I laid their ticket on the table and kept on going.
Chapter 12
“Whew,” I said to Danna five minutes later. “The bank account is going to be happy, and my feet are, too, when this day is over.” Besides my friends, four other tables were occupied. They were already served and nobody new had come in.
“Totally.” Now that things were easing up for the moment, her hands were immersed in sudsy water, scrubbing a couple of pots in the sink.
I flipped the burgers for Christina and friends—two beef, one turkey, and one veggie—and added a slice of cheese on the beef patties. I ladled out three cups of Abe’s Mulligatawny soup, filled one cup with creamy carrot soup, and carried those to the table.
“Let’s see. Who was the vegetarian?” I surveyed them as Zen pointed to Karinde. “Got it. Creamy carrot for you, chicken for the rest.” I distributed the soup and was about to turn to get back to the burgers when Zen pushed back her chair.
“Be right back,” she said to the other women. “Robbie? Can I talk to you for a second?”
I glanced toward the grill. “Come with me. I don’t want the meat to overcook.”
She looked in the same direction and rubbed the back of her neck. “I’d rather talk where it’s a bit quieter.”
“Danna, can you finish up those plates, please?” I called, waiting until she nodded before leading Zen across the room to the area near the door. I faced her. “What’s up?”
“Charles, that’s what. I heard you found him.” She studied my face.
So I was right about the academic village. “I did. Lou and I were out on snowshoes.”
“The police have been leaving messages on my cell. I haven’t called them back. I understand you’ve helped solve a couple crimes around here. Why do you think they want to talk to me?” With a worried look on her face, Zen rubbed the back of her hand over and over.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. I mean, you didn’t kill him, did you?” I kept my tone light. I didn’t know anything about her other than her position as department chair.
“Of course not.” Her worried look turned to horrified. If she had killed him, she also possessed talents as an actress.
“Then call them back. You’re the head of Charles’s department. I’m sure they only want to learn more about him.”
“But we had words Friday night. Everybody heard.” She kept rubbing her hand as if that would erase the problem.
“I didn’t. I was in the walk-in. What did he say to you?”
Her head turned and I followed the direction of her eyes. She was focused on the table where Christina, Betsy, and Karinde sat talking, sipping champagne, and tasting soup.
I was pretty sure Karinde was the only one Zen saw.
She looked back at me. “He said a—” She clapped her mouth shut as the bell on the door jangled.
Buck ambled in and doffed his hat. “Ladies.” He hung the hat on the coatrack and cupped his hands, blowing into them. “It’s dang nippy out there.”
“Hey, Buck.” I snuck a glance at Zen.
She’d gone pale and her head was swiveling as if she was looking for a place to hide. Too late for that. But what she was worried about? “This is Professor Zenobia Brown. She’s—”
“The chair of the sociology department,” Buck finished. “I know. Howdy-do, Dr. Brown. I’m Buck Bird, with the South Lick Police. Funny, we been huntin’ high and low for you. Even been over to your house early this morning, but you didn’t appear to be in residence.”
Zen straightened her shoulders before extending her hand. “How are you, Officer? I’m afraid I was away overnight. What can I help you with?”
Buck shook her hand. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard the news? About the murder of one your professors? A Dr. Charles Stilton.”
“I have heard, and it’s a terrible tragedy for Charles to die so young and violently,” she said, her voice level. “We’ll be arranging a memorial service for him on campus, of course.”
“A decent thing to do. It’s just that the detective on the case wants to talk with you. Has your cell phone been away, too? ’Cause we been leaving messages, asking you to call us.”
Zen lifted her chin, which she pretty much had to since Buck’s face was a foot above hers. “It was turned off. I only now saw those messages and was planning to call in. May I finish my lunch first?” She waved toward her table.
“Why, surely, ma’am. I come in to get some lunch for myself, as it happens. When we’re done, I’ll tell you what. I’ll just escort you over to the station. Wouldn’t want you gettin’ lost here in South Lick, now,” he drawled with a friendly smile, an expression which did not hide his keen eyes.
“Fine,” she said through lips that barely moved for their tension. “Excuse me.” Still with erect posture, she made her way back to the table.
Buck looked at me. “You was talking in private with her, looked like from outside.”
“Did you follow her here?”
“Let’s simply say we’ve been looking for her. So, was you all talking about the murder?”
“Just briefly.”
“You didn’t tell her none of the details about finding him, I hope.” He studied my face, the smile now gone from his.
“Of course not. I was told not to.”
“She say where she spent last night?”
“No.” I shook my head. “She came in about half an hour ago with that tall blond woman at the table. She introduced her as her friend Karinde.”
Zen had hesitated before the word friend. Maybe she and Karinde were a couple, too. I didn’t care, but she might have reasons she didn’t want to go public about it—her family, her position as an academic, or some other reason.
“Welp, we found her now. And, like I said, I need me some lunch. Can I get—”
“Bowl of soup, double cheeseburger, fries, coleslaw, and a brownie?” It was my turn to smile. “Coming right up.”
“Heck, Robbie. I guess you’re getting acquainted with my hollow leg, now ain’t ya?”
“That I am, Buck. That I am.”
Chapter 13
At a little after four o’clock, I sank into a corner of my sofa with a pint glass of beer, a bowl of almonds and cashews, and my phone. The day’s considerable take was securely locked up in the small safe in my apartment. I accepted plastic from customers, but most locals almost exclusively still used cash for meals like breakfast or lunch. Danna and I had cleaned up the tables and
kitchen, and I’d locked the door after her. Birdy had bounded up and was nestled into my lap. The late afternoon sun warmed the wide pine floorboards, making the old wood glow golden. It was still cold outside, but the days were blessedly lengthening on a regular schedule.
As I stroked my kitty’s smooth long fur, I said, “That was quite the day, Birdman.”
He purred his chirping purr in agreement, his tail lazily swishing, his eyes happily shut. I doubted Zen was as happy, with Buck following her to the police station. I’d heard the interaction between Karinde and Zen before they’d left and it had seemed contentious. Karinde hadn’t seemed happy, either about Zen going to the station or about having to catch a ride home with Christina and Betsy. Since Zen had driven, Karinde didn’t have much choice. Christina and Betsy had said they were fine with providing taxi service.
Relationships. Why were they so fraught, I wondered, munching a few nuts. Even two lovebirds like Christina and Betsy were sure to have conflicts now and then. I knew they’d been a couple for several years, and sealing it with marriage must mean the good times outweighed the bad. Maybe I was wrong about Karinde and Zen. Maybe they were, in fact, merely friends and not lovers. I shook my head and sipped my IPA. I was sure Abe and I would have conflicts, too, sooner or later. Speaking of him, I checked my phone. He hadn’t called, but Lou had, and I saw that I had an e-mail from Adele.
First, see what she had to say. I opened the e-mail and scanned it. Adele expressed dismay at the murder. Told me to stay safe. Asked me to convey her sympathies to Maude. The last line caught my eye:
Chuck was almost universally disliked. I’m only surprised he wasn’t killed before now.
Interesting. If that was true, Octavia was going to have a full roster of suspects to investigate. Speaking of suspects, I pressed Lou’s number.
After she connected and we greeted each other, I said, “How’d it go last night?”
She didn’t speak for a moment. “Robbie, they really seem to think I killed Charles. It’s ridiculous. They kept me there until twelve-thirty, asking me the same questions over and over. Why had I accused him of stealing my work? Had I met with him privately yesterday morning or at any time prior? Hadn’t I seen him on the lake in the morning? Was I aware of how much taller I was than him? And on and on.”
“Sorry. It doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“I was totally wiped when they finally let me go. I saw your note, but I needed to get home and pass out.”
“Maybe you should get a lawyer.” I took a sip of beer.
“I spent the morning hiring one. My dad’s best friend is a law professor at Purdue. He found me somebody good in Bloomington.” Lou’s father was a professor at Purdue University. She paused. “But if the police are jumping on me as a suspect, Robbie, what does that mean for the person who actually killed Charles? He or she is walking around out there free as a bird.”
I could hear the wobble in her voice even as it rose. “I know what you mean. If it’s any comfort, I think Octavia Slade is a good detective. It’s her job to ask you questions. It means she’s also interviewing other people. I’ll bet they’ve had Charles’s wife Maude in. Friends of his. Today Buck came into the restaurant while Zen was having lunch. And afterwards he escorted her to the station for an interview.”
“Zen Brown? I don’t get that at all.”
“She was Charles’s chair,” I said. “Which means she was his boss. He said something to her Friday night that she found outrageous. Did you hear what it was?”
Lou groaned. “Bar none, that guy was talented at rubbing everyone the wrong way. He said, and I quote, ‘You’re a dyke. Of course you study women’s health. You and all your lesbo friends are the only people who care.’ It was definitely outrageous.”
“That’s nasty. That’s super nasty.”
“You bet it is.”
“Is Zen gay?” I asked, thinking again of the way she looked at Karinde.
“I kind of think so. But if she is, she’s not open about it. I mean, she never talks about her personal life, and she never brings anybody to department functions like our annual picnic. She lives out in the woods somewhere, so she has the privacy to do whatever she wants. Which of course, she has every right to. We’re all just people.”
“Totally.” My phone buzzed, meaning another call was coming in. I glanced at it. ABE. I could call him back. I wasn’t going to interrupt Lou at a time like this. “Can you think of anyone else in the department Charles butted heads with? You could give Octavia some leads.”
“I did exactly that last night. He got nasty with a few others, students and professors. I hope Ms. Slade follows up.” She yawned. “Sorry. Once I got home it was so hard to fall asleep. I tried warm milk with brandy, reading a boring sociology text, counting backwards from a thousand. Nothing worked until almost dawn. This sucks. I have a lot of work to do, but I can’t concentrate. And I teach a section of Intro tomorrow morning.”
“Just write the day off, then. You can wing it in class, can’t you?”
She laughed. “Yeah. I’ll put my hair up and wear my power suit and my highest heels. They won’t even notice I’m not prepared.”
“You in a power suit? I might have to audit your class tomorrow to see that.” Tall athletic Lou in a skirt, jacket, and heels? I usually saw her in exercise clothes of one kind or another, and a few times, like Friday night, in a grad student outfit of jeans and blazer. I’d never been with her when she was dressed up. “You probably look like a CEO.”
“Maybe not quite, but I’ve been told I do clean up pretty good.”
I was glad to hear her voice steady and amused. Back to normal. “For now, go make some popcorn and put on an old movie. Eat chocolate. Have more brandy. You’re going to be fine,” I assured her.
“Yeah, probably. Thanks, Robbie. You’ve lifted me out of a dark hole.”
“Happy to. I’m sure you’ll return the favor when I need it.”
“Any time.”
“Not to put a damper on your good mood, but make sure you lock your door, too,” I urged.
“I’m way ahead of you. Triple locked. Hope the building doesn’t catch on fire.” She laughed lightly and disconnected.
I slid Birdy off my lap. Time to check my own locks. I was pretty sure I’d secured the door, but it never hurt to check.
Chapter 14
I opened my apartment door when Abe knocked at a few minutes past five. “Ready for some wrecking?” I stretched up and kissed him.
“Demolition never sounded so good.” Appropriately, he wore old clothes—a soft flannel shirt thin at the elbows, faded jeans that seemed like they knew his body, and scuffed work boots. He held a yellow and black carrier that looked like a small gym bag, but by the way he hefted it, it probably held tools, not tennies and exercise clothes.
“I really appreciate the help. Follow me.” Dressed in a nearly identical outfit, except mine sat on my curves entirely differently than his did on his muscular build, I led the way into the store and unlocked the door to the stairs.
“I’ve never even noticed this door,” he said, pausing.
The door was tucked in the back corner of the east wall beyond the cookware area. A tall shelving unit half hid it. “I don’t advertise it. For one thing, these stairs aren’t ready for the public yet.” I flipped on the lights, revealing a steep and narrow set of stairs. “Up here isn’t exactly finished, either.”
We clomped our way up.
“I’ll say. But what a great space.”
I’d already removed all the interior walls except the one that was weight bearing. Like I’d done downstairs, I’d installed super-strong laminated veneer lumber to support the weight so I could take out the last wall. Up here was indeed a nice big space, as large as the entire restaurant. My apartment was an early 1900s single-story add-on to the original 1870 structure, so the back windows upstairs looked out onto the gently sloping roof of my living quarters.
The tail end of the day’s sunli
ght poked in through the western windows. The front of the building faced south and got plenty of light throughout the day.
“You didn’t carry all the rubble down those stairs, I hope,” Abe said.
I waved him over to a window on the eastern side, pushed up the sash, and pointed down to a big rectangular container. “Took the easy way out and tossed it.”
“Smart.” He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Mmm, that feels way too good.” I swayed with him. “But you did offer to help, didn’t you?”
He pressed his lips to my ear, sending a zing of heat through me.
I turned to face him. “Seriously. If you keep that up, I can’t be held accountable for my actions.” I smiled. “Come on, let’s tear out some lath and plaster.”
He rolled his eyes, pretending to mock me. “I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he said, finally dropping his arms.
“We’re going to get dirty all, right.” I’d tied a hot pink bandana over my hair to keep the dust out. I closed the open window and picked up a heavy flat pry bar from the pile of tools I’d laid on a drop cloth in the corner. “You can use this or a crow bar.”
He dug his own pry bar and a pair of work gloves out of his bag and held them up. “Always come prepared. And yes, I was a Boy Scout back in the day.”
“Let’s start over there.” I grabbed a hammer, too, and headed to the back wall, the one overlooking my apartment. “It’s a shame to take off this wallpaper, but it has to go.” The paper featured a background of tiny pink flowers with larger puffy bouquets at regular intervals. The covering was faded, stained, and torn, and I needed to rewire and insulate before installing new sheetrock. I pried off the window trim and then went to work on the wall. The wallpaper covered crumbling plaster that had been pressed into the inch-wide slats called lath. The screech of nails pulling out from the studs behind the lath grated on my ears.