When the Grits Hit the Fan

by Maddie Day

  I breathed in and out, telling myself I lived in a normally safe town. That my intruder so far had managed to stay hidden and must want to remain that way. That the police were driving by regularly tonight. That the noise this morning had been only a squirrel. That—.

  “Ahem.” Behind me someone cleared their throat.

  I screeched as I whirled.

  “Relax, Robbie.” Wanda held up both hands. “Just checking out the back of the property.” The flashlight she held aimed a narrow beacon at the sky.

  “Geez, Wanda. You scared me. I didn’t see your cruiser.”

  “Detective Slade said to keep an eye on y’all. So that’s what I’m doing. Cruiser’s around the other side.”

  I waited a moment until my heart stopped exploding out of my neck. “Thanks, then. You surprised me.”

  She snorted. “I guess. Hey, nice move parking the van like that. Gonna make it a lot harder for the bad guy to get near the barn door.”

  “I hope I got close enough so whoever it is would have to be really skinny to fit in there.”

  “Or they’d have to climb up on top of the van and hang down over.” She snickered.

  A giggle bubbled out of me, one of those post-adrenaline-rush kind of laughs. The image of a murderer going through contortions to get to the padlock and leaving his—or her—rear end in the air was vastly entertaining. Plus I’d never heard Wanda laugh before.

  She’d put on a real tough cop act last fall, and I didn’t really blame her for flashing a dose of bravado. But for the moment, we were just two adult girls dissolving into unstoppable laughter.

  “He might slip and get stuck upside down,” I said between chortles.

  “Like a yoga pose, right? Downward facing thief?” She covered her mouth, but another snort came out and we were off again.

  “Whew.” I wiped my eyes when the laughing seemed to ebb. “Thank you for watching out for me tonight. Trying to get a locksmith today was a total fail.”

  She played the light over the door to my apartment at the back of the building. “Here, let me make sure you get in okay.” She was all business again.

  Or all caring. Maybe that was what being a public safety officer was all about. Caring enough about the public to keep them safe, or try to, anyway.

  We walked together across to the small patio outside my door. The porch light lit up the now-withered orangey-red bittersweet berries I’d stuck in pot of evergreen boughs before Christmas. The pot sat under the porch roof and I’d kept the snow brushed off the arrangement because it looked so cheery.

  I unlocked the door and turned. “I’m good now. Thanks again, Wanda.” Should I ask her to come upstairs and make sure door to the passageway hadn’t been disturbed? No. I’d be fine. I could check on my own.

  “All in the line of duty.”

  “You stay warm tonight.” I waved as she headed around toward the front. I shut the door and flipped the dead bolt, its clunk warming my itty-bitty heart. After the vandalism last November, I’d made sure I was safe in the store and my apartment. They boasted decent locks. I hadn’t thought I’d need to secure the barn, too, never suspecting the two buildings were connected.

  Birdy ran to my ankles, mewed, and ran back into the kitchen. Ah, yes, dinner time for kitty cats. I switched on the lamp and dished up his treat, then hurried upstairs. It all looked secure and undisturbed, but I left a light on upstairs to make it look occupied. Just in case.

  After I made it back down and sat at the kitchen table, Birdy jumped into my lap, chirping as I stroked him. The glowing wood of the table Mom had made was a comforting sight and the kitchen smelled faintly of coffee, cinnamon, and the remnants of Birdy’s chicken-in-gravy Fancy Feast.

  I stroked the table with my other hand. “Mom, I’ll bet you never ran into a murderer when you lived here.” She’d grown up in South Lick, but had adopted Santa Barbara as her new hometown when she was in her early twenties—and pregnant with me. “What would you do, faced with a threatening note?”

  The ringing of my phone interrupted my communing with Mom’s spirit, even though it wasn’t really that. Merely my wishing she were still alive to share parts of my life.

  “Sorry I missed your call earlier, Robbie,” Abe began.

  “That’s okay.”

  “You wanted a locksmith? I thought you got all new locks last fall.”

  “I did. This is for the barn. Remember I told you about the tunnel? Well, somebody cut the padlock I’d put on the barn door, and they left a note in the barn threatening me.”

  “No! Really?”

  “Apparently it was from Charles’s killer.” I relayed the wording of the threat. “It was pretty freaky. Octavia and her team came over in the afternoon and checked stuff out.”

  “Good.”

  I told him about having seen the scrap of cloth and then it being gone later. “But we found a thread still down there, so they took it as evidence. Took the whole piece of wood it was stuck on.”

  “Robbie, that means the killer has been in your tunnel, in your store, your building. That it wasn’t a random burglar. Are you all right?”

  I could hear his concern. “I’m fine.” I tried to keep my tone reassuring.

  “I wish I could come over, but Sean is here for the night.”

  “That’s right, you have him every Wednesday. Don’t worry about me. The police are patrolling, and I just ran into Wanda checking out the perimeter on foot.”

  “But the barn is unlocked. Whoever it was could get back in. Get to you.”

  I described how I’d left the van. “I’ll be okay.” At least I hoped so.

  His voice turned husky. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

  “Same here, Abe.” I laughed. “I mean, I feel the same way about you. But don’t worry.”

  “I’ll try not to. And this might help.” He gave me the names and numbers of two locksmiths in the area, which I jotted down.

  “I have a proposition for you,” he said, his voice smiling.

  “Sounds racy.” I smiled back, even though it was only at the phone.

  “Friday happens to be my birthday.”

  “Oh! How did I not know that?” Maybe I’d never asked him.

  “My parents have a getaway cabin in the woods and it’s really special to me. I want to celebrate there. With you. Only for one night. We’ll get you home in time for the morning rush, don’t worry. How about it?”

  A secluded getaway with Abe? No brainer, even though it would guarantee I’d be dragging on Saturday. Thank goodness it was the off week for the department dinner. And I could try out that new, very short, very lacy red silk number I’d ordered. The type of birthday present I knew he’d appreciate. “Tell me what time. I’ll be ready.”

  Chapter 42

  I left messages with both locksmiths before I went to bed. Disturbing dreams haunted my sleep, though—windows breaking, something being dragged, dark figures lurking outside.

  Before starting work the next morning, I checked the barn door, but nothing looked disturbed. As I worked on breakfast, I alternated between replaying that feeling of dread when I’d heard the rustling in the dark and new giggles bubbling up at the thought of a bad guy getting stuck upside down between the van and the barn.

  It was barely past six and I was already dragging. I hoped I didn’t break anything.

  Danna pushed through the door promptly at six-thirty. Some mornings she stumbled in yawning as if she’d been up until the wee hours. Today, she almost bounced over to where we kept the clean aprons. She pulled one over her dreads tied back with a dark red scarf, and tied the apron around a black striped bowling shirt that resembled referee garb.

  “Got a good night’s sleep?” I asked.

  “You bet. So we’re doing fritters today. What else?” She whistled as she washed her hands. “How about a couple dozen quick bacon-cheddar scones?”

  “Sure, if you can pull them off. I already have bacon started on low and we
have plenty of cheese.” Where was she getting the energy? I personally was not feeling so bouncy.

  “We got any chives?” she asked.

  “Only outside under the snow.”

  “No probs. We can do without.”

  After we worked in silence for a few minutes, she glanced over at me. “Any more scary notes?”

  “No, thank goodness.”

  “I got your back, Robbie, you know?”

  Danna was a good person to have on my side. She was fit from playing on a volleyball team, and she was a lot taller than me.

  “I know, and I appreciate that. I didn’t have a particularly restful night, though, so I’m glad you’re perky today. One of us has to be.” I finished mixing up the first batch of pancake batter, then added the wet ingredients to the fritter batter. “That threatening note makes me want to get this case solved.”

  “For sure.”

  “You said you went to school with Ron. Is there one of his friends you might be able to talk to? I’m curious about where Ron was the night his dad was killed.”

  “Ew. You think he might have murdered his own father? Like in Oedipus?” She looked horrified.

  “I doubt it, but you never know. His mom said he was ice fishing that morning. So he was on the lake. If she was telling the truth.” I laid a row of sausages at the edge of the grill to warm.

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Danna tilted her head.

  “Ron’s her only child.” I glanced at the clock. It was almost seven, time to unlock the door and turn the sign to OPEN. “What if he did it and she’s covering up for him?”

  “Gah. But, yeah, one of his friends is kind of more normal than the others. Me and Jacob used to be in drama together. I’ll let you know what he says.” She laughed. “If I offer to bring him scones and fritters, he’ll be all over it.”

  “Would that be the sort of soft-looking guy Ron came in with yesterday?”

  “Exactly. He’s not big on exercise, if you know what I mean. Except with his thumbs.” She shook her head. “I don’t get gamers at all. I know a few girls who are into it, but mostly it’s guys. Sit around all day twiddling your thumbs killing people on screen or trying to scale a tower or whatever? Not for me.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to talk to him, but be careful, right? Talk to him in a public place. I’d hate for you to be in danger.” I switched on the deep fryer and pictured the unlocked barn again. “I need to get a new lock for the barn today. I put in calls to a couple locksmiths last night, but the ones I called yesterday never got back to me, so I’m not hopeful.”

  “Mom’s cousin over in Nashville is a locksmith. I’ll text her and get his number after I get these in the oven.” Danna rolled out the scone dough, deftly sliced it into triangles, and slid them onto a baking sheet. “She’ll make sure he helps you out.”

  “Great. It’ll be a huge relief to get the barn secured. How’s your mom, anyway?” I hadn’t seen the mayor in a few weeks.

  “She’s had super bad allergies this winter, so she’s always sneezing and wheezing. And there’s a new guy she’s hanging with.” Danna snorted. “He’s too smooth for me, like bordering on smarmy. But hey, I don’t have to date him, right?”

  Chapter 43

  Murderer or no murderer, threatening note or no threatening note, the fine residents of South Lick still wanted breakfast. Once again the place was hopping. Good. Maybe I’d make it through until spring after all. If there weren’t any more intruders. Any more violent deaths.

  Octavia pushed through the door at around eight-thirty. I gave her a wave from the cash register, then finished my transaction with a woman paying for her takeout order of biscuits and coffee. Octavia stood in the waiting area working on her phone.

  “There’s a small table over by the wall,” I said, approaching her. “Did you want to eat?”

  She glanced up. “Thanks,” she said, but she seemed distracted. Little lines formed above her top lip and her mouth pulled a bit to the side, like she was chewing on the inside of her cheek.

  I followed her to the table, giving it one more swipe with a cloth before setting down a clean placemat. “Coffee?” I handed her a menu.

  “Please.”

  When I brought back the pot, I asked, “Know what you want?”

  “To find the bad guy.” She grimaced as her shoulders sagged, not her usual posture, and dark smudges under her eyes made it look like she hadn’t been getting much rest lately. “Sorry. You meant breakfast.”

  “Case isn’t going so well, I gather.”

  “No, it isn’t. Too many persons of interest, not enough evidence, too many lies. Or at least one big lie.”

  “You mean from the murderer?”

  “Exactly. Hey, everything all quiet overnight?” she asked. “I know Wanda and a few others kept a pretty close watch on the place.”

  “I know. Yes, nothing went on. And I, um, sort of blocked the barn door with my van. Still haven’t gotten a locksmith to call me back.”

  “I’ll see if we have any names on file. Sorry, should have thought of that yesterday.” Octavia surveyed the room. “You haven’t seen Ron Stilton in here lately, have you?”

  “He was in for breakfast yesterday with a few friends.”

  “I can’t seem to locate him. If he happens to come in again, will you text me or Buck? Or call the station.”

  “Is he a suspect?”

  She looked over her black-rimmed glasses at me.

  “Okay, I know. You can’t talk about it.” I really should tell her what Georgia said. “So, speaking of persons of interest, I was out Tuesday afternoon, like I told you. I went to see Georgia La Rue.”

  “So you said. And?” Octavia’s dark brows came together.

  “I just wanted to say that I’m sure she wouldn’t kill Charles. Has Maude told you she thinks Georgia did?” I stared at Octavia, but she didn’t respond. “Anyway, Georgia told me she was home that night and morning when Charles was killed. The problem is her husband can’t vouch for her. He has dementia.” I was rambling.

  “Robbie, we already know all this. Do you have anything new to offer?” She tapped her sensibly trimmed fingernail on the table.

  What had Georgia said? If I was going to kill someone, it would be Maude herself. “No, nothing new.”

  After Octavia ordered a vegetable omelet with dry wheat toast, I took the order slip over to Danna. “She’s looking for Ron,” I murmured.

  “The detective is?” Danna whispered, her focus shifting in Octavia’s direction.

  “None other. But she won’t tell me a thing.”

  “Of course not. Ron had better watch out. I get the impression that detective gets what she wants.”

  “You can say that again.”

  Chapter 44

  The rush had kept up right through lunch. I’d been too busy to think, almost. And because I hadn’t expected such a crowd, we kept running out of menu items—turkey burgers, coleslaw, our special local root beer—even though I’d just placed an order a couple of days ago. Or maybe it was because I’d been too distracted with everything else to remember to keep up with supplies. It was not like me. The murder and the invasion of my property was throwing me off more than I’d realized.

  I rolled my eyes at Danna after one more disgruntled customer complained that the item she wanted wasn’t available.

  “I’m going to have to do some serious ordering this afternoon.” I checked the wall clock. One-thirty and at last several tables were empty. “Why don’t you take a break? Looks like things are easing up.”

  She tore off her apron with a look of relief and made a beeline to the restroom. We’d barely had time to do even that since seven this morning. I flipped a couple of hamburgers and dished up a cup of chicken soup. The next time the cowbell jangled, I looked over to see Georgia stomp in. When she spied me, she hurried over to the kitchen area.

  “Georgia, how—” I stopped speaking when her condition registered. Her hair, usually neat, was all flyaway and
her eyes looked like she’d been crying. “What’s wrong?”

  “Can you help me? They said they have to talk to Orville. To my demented husband! It’s absurd. He looks like the lights are on but there’s nobody home upstairs.”

  “You told them of his condition, I assume. Can they even do that, ask to interview him?”

  “I have no idea. They said maybe he’d have a glimmer of memory about that night.”

  “The night Charles was killed.” Even if Orville was able to say Georgia was home, I wondered if it would hold up in court. And what if he said she was away, but it was a delusion?

  She nodded with a frantic movement. “They came over to the library, interrupted my shift.” She turned away and paced a few steps, then turned back. “I don’t know what to do.”

  I sniffed. “Hang on a second.” The burgers were nearly overcooked. I slid them onto their plates, told Georgia to sit down, and delivered the order. I gave another party their check and cleared a vacated table. It was more like five minutes before I got back to Georgia.

  She’d sat, but one knee was jiggling up and down like she was keeping time to really fast music.

  “Try to calm down,” I said, sitting across from her. “First, do you have a lawyer?”

  “That’s what Donnie said, too. That I needed a lawyer.”

  “He’s right. You do.”

  “But that’s expensive. Orville’s care already costs so much. Anyway, I didn’t do anything wrong, and Orville sure as heck didn’t. What can the police do to us?” She shook her head. “The one thing they can do is upset Orville by asking him questions. He doesn’t do very well with a change in his routine.”

  I thought for a moment. A customer caught my eye and waved. I held up my index finger, signaling just a minute, and stood as I said, “Let me ask my friend at the university. Maybe there’s a pro-bono law firm that could help you. Like legal aid or something.” Or I could ask Jim. He was a real-estate lawyer but probably knew somebody who offered those services.