by Tonya Kappes
Polly was a petite blonde that worked at the jewelry store a few days a week. She was what I’d call a hillbilly with money. On her daddy’s payroll and on the arm of Mayor Ryland—though he was my daddy’s age and Polly was a few years younger than me. I had uncovered their affair, which was the hot gossip for a few weeks but had since died down. Now seeing them together was no big deal. I still didn’t understand what she saw in him.
“I sure don’t think your mama is a killer.” Polly drew her left hand up to her chest. On it was the biggest diamond ring that I bet Viola White had ever carried in her shop. “When Chance told me about Frank Von Lee, I had to call all the girls and let them know that we need to rally for Viv.”
All the girls? She meant the henny-hens that were my mama’s friends and Polly’s mama’s friends. Apparently, since Polly was dating Mayor Ryland, she’d also taken on the role of pretend wife with his friends.
“Yes.” Viola swung the hot pink feather boa around her neck. Duke jumped up and tried to catch the floating feathers that’d wiggled loose from her flinging. “There’s no way your mama could hurt a flea. She talks a mean game and she can get stuff done, but murder? Never.” She gasped, making her five-foot-four frame seem so much bigger.
A few strands of pearls were wrapped around her wrist and she had a pearl ring on every single finger, though different in sizes and shapes. She was a walking billboard for her shop.
She pushed up her wide-rimmed black glasses with her middle finger before she raked the edges of her short gray hair.
“Who said Mama was a killer?” I asked. If Mama heard the rumors already swirling around, she’d never come out of the house.
“When I found out it was Frank, I knew that your mama had the most to gain or lose from his review. I mean...” Polly’s shoulders did a weird wave as she flung that blonde hair of hers behind them. “It doesn’t take a cop to put two and two together. If he liked her pot pie, she was going to be famous. If he didn’t, she couldn’t possibly ever cook again. Not to mention that last night at the end of the Shabby Trends show, I heard through the grapevine that Vivian was seen at the Tattered Cover looking awfully upset.” Polly raised a brow. “Suspicious behavior if you ask me.”
“Mmhmm.” Viola’s head nodded up and down. “Plus that.” She pointed to the Cottonwood Chronicle box that was chained to the carriage light lamppost in front of her shop.
There were two photos of Mama on the front page. On one side was her coming out of the barbeque shack in Clay’s Ferry, and on the other a close-up of Mama with her big shiner around her eye. I ran over and tried to jerk the newspaper container open, but I had to put in two quarters.
“I need fifty cents.” I patted around my pockets. Edna Easterly sure did work fast in releasing this paper.
“Hold on.” Viola White rushed into the shop.
I bent down to get a look.
“Edna.” Disgust came out of my lips. “I can’t believe her.”
Viola ran over with the two quarters. I took them and pushed them through the slot. The clanking sound of the second quarter let me know I could open the spring door.
I pulled a copy of the paper out and stared at it. Mama wouldn’t have let Edna take a photo of her with a black eye.
“How else did she get the black eye?” I swear there was a bit of sarcasm in Polly’s voice. “I mean, really?”
“Really, Polly, my mama is not even on my radar.” I curled the paper up and stuck it under my arm. “Come on, Duke!” I yelled out of frustration.
When I didn’t hear the pitter-patter of his toenails on the concrete sidewalk, I turned around. Polly and Viola had their heads stuck together and were flapping their lips. They stopped when they saw me looking. Both of them shot their hands in the air and gave me the finger wave.
“Duke!” I screamed at my dog when he took off into a full sprint and made it to Ben’s before I did. I opened the door of the diner and the bell dinged.
“Wow.” My mouth dropped. It appeared as if there was a line for a table. “Business seems to have picked up,” I said when I walked up to Ben, who was standing behind the counter.
Through the window I could see Jolee cooking.
“Business has been great. After the news of Frank’s death, everyone has wanted to come here and ask questions about it. I only tell them what I know.” He swiped the clean rag across the counter and stuffed some singles from a tip in his apron pocket.
“Ben Harrison. You of all people.” This was nuts. “You know Mama and she’s no killer.”
“All I know are the facts.” He turned around and threw the rag in the sink behind him before he grabbed a couple paper placemats and napkin-wrapped utensils. “What I know is that Frank Von Lee is dead and your mama was seen leaving the hotel upset. Then this morning she’s front and center on the paper with a black eye. It all adds up. Plus I heard about the little fiasco from Clay’s Ferry.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Yesterday afternoon someone came in and was talking about it.”
The kitchen door swung open and Riley Titan walked through.
“Oh. Sorry.” He put his hands in the air with a surprised look on his face. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just need my ladder. I was on my way over to Finn’s and realized I left it here.”
He looked around. Ben pointed back to the kitchen.
“I found it out here in the corner and had to move it out of the way this morning. I stuck it in the corner of the kitchen,” Ben told him.
“Thanks, man.” Riley offered a smile and disappeared back through the door. After I heard the back door to the diner shut, I walked over to Ben.
“Seriously, of all my friends,” my head tilted to the side and I stared at him, “you’re the one who I can’t believe is acting this way. And there’s no one who said Mama killed someone.”
“It doesn’t matter. You know gossip around Cottonwood. If they just think that something bad went on around here, they will come for the gossip.” He gestured to the full diner. “I need the money.”
“Can we talk somewhere a little more private?” I asked when I noticed there wasn’t a single spot in the diner without a warm body in it.
“Sure. We can go in my office.” He held up a finger for me to hold on and walked over to talk to a couple of the kids on his staff. They made eye contact with me and nodded.
I followed Ben into his office and shut the door behind him.
“Shoot.”
“What was said in the meeting yesterday when Frank Von Lee came in?” I asked.
“I greeted him. Like a good gentleman, I introduced Viv and then myself. Both she and I told him how happy we were to hear he was coming and you know,” he shrugged, “we took turns kissing his you-know-what.”
“How did he react?” I asked.
“He said it was his job and he loved to discover small-town recipes that bring light to the south. Some kind of light,” Ben muttered. “Who knew that the expiration of his light would bring in this much publicity?” he asked with a chipper voice.
“Back to the questions.” I found it odd that he was so upbeat.
I hated to play hardball, but this was my job and Mama’s life was on the line. I couldn’t be in denial any longer thinking that I’d made all this up in my head. She definitely was the only suspect and the evidence was just mounting up against her. I’d never had such a clear-cut case. It was almost a little too clear-cut.
“Did he tell you his plans for the evening or what the plan was for today?” I asked.
Out of the corner of my eye, a shadow whisked across the office. My head jerked up and there was Poppa. He was milling around in the office. If he was looking around back there for clues, it saved me time.
“I’m going to look around in the kitchen,” Poppa said and ghosted away.
“He said that he’d had a long day of traveling since he only
traveled by train and that he wanted to just relax and read.” Ben sucked in a deep breath and released it. “I mentioned that Nanette had a great supper, but if he was hungry, he could call over and get something for takeout. He never called.”
“Did he eat anything while he was here?” I asked. “Was there anyone else besides Jolee cooking?”
“I offered him a couple of homemade cookies I’d made earlier in the day, but he passed. Jolee is the only one that’s been in the kitchen since I fired Chef Mundy. Plus, I’d closed the diner after he left to prepare for today.” He shook his head. “Really, I don’t think your mama is capable of this, but it’s awfully coincidental.”
“Do me a favor. Don’t give into gossip. Let me see what I can figure out. Let me do my job.” I stood up. “I’ll get back with you.”
We headed out into the kitchen. Jolee pointed to the coffee maker. The steam rolled off of the freshly brewed coffee and the smell made my taste buds water.
“Do you mind if I take a look around?” I asked.
“The place is all yours.” Ben poured himself a cup of coffee and one for me as well.
“Thanks,” I said and offered a smile.
“I didn’t find any sodium fluoroacetate.” Poppa stood in the middle of the pristine kitchen. He was as baffled as I was. “If your mama had made a pot pie, then why is that in the trash? She’d never use a frozen dinner.”
I looked into the bin. Before I reached in, I took a pair of gloves out of my bag and put them on. I pulled out a cardboard zip tab that you’d find on a premade frozen box. I dug a little deeper in the trash but didn’t see a box to go with it.
“Ben?” I called. “Do you use any sort of frozen dinners here?”
“No,” Ben said, offended. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“Jolee?” I asked.
“You know better than to ask me something that insulting.” She smirked.
“I found this in the trash.” I held the long thin piece of cardboard up in the air. I noticed half of a yellow price tag on it that I recognized from Dixon’s.
“I have no idea where that came from.” Ben turned to head back into the diner, seemingly unaffected by my find.
“How often do you take your trash out?” I asked, pointing to the trash can Poppa found the piece in.
“The ones by the counter are emptied a few times a day.” He looked at the one by the pantry. “That one is rarely used because we don’t prepare food there. So it might be once a week.”
“Once a week.” My mind rolled back to the people who’d had access to the kitchen. “Besides you and Jolee, who has been in here?”
“Your mama, me, Chef Mundy...” He stopped when I put my hand up.
“Chef Mundy?” I asked, remembering that the last time I’d seen him, he was wielding a knife at Ben. “Where’s he staying?”
“He has a place up in Lexington, but I was paying for him to stay next door.” Ben’s jaw dropped. “Oh, you don’t think?” Ben’s brows furrowed.
“I don’t discount anyone or any motive.” I took another look around until I was satisfied there wasn’t anything else to see. “But he was staying at The Tattered Cover Books and Inn?”
“Do you think Mundy poisoned Frank to get back at me?” he asked and looked off into the distance. “I mean, he was right here.”
“He was wielding a knife at you,” I reminded him. “It’s not like that’s something you do to someone you care about.”
“That’s disturbing.” Ben leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms. There was a concerned look on his face. “Crap.” Ben dragged his hat off of his head and racked his hands through his hair. “I forgot to get his key. I gave him a key to the diner.”
“Very disturbing.” I patted my leg. “Come on, Duke. Bye, Ben,” I said and walked out the back door.
The lid to the dumpster was propped up a little from all the collected trash from the businesses along this particular alley.
“You aren’t.” Poppa’s nose curled.
“I am.” I surveyed the dumpster, wondering how I was going to get up in it. I found a sturdy crate and dragged it over to the dumpster.
“This is why you have a deputy,” Poppa reminded me as I started to climb in.
“Well, my suspect isn’t my deputy’s mother. She’s mine.” I put on another pair of gloves. Duke was busy smelling all the unique smells associated with a dumpster while I took my first step inside.
My feet sank into the bags and the odor was unforgivable. I gulped back a gag and started to sort through the bags. Ben’s bags were black, so I grabbed all the black bags I found and threw them out of the dumpster. There were at least eight of them. I put them in a pile and headed on back to the office to get the Jeep to collect them.
The back streets took a little longer than just going down Main Street, but I was in no mood to answer questions swirling around the gossip mill about Mama. Though I did want to know how Edna got that photo.
There was no better time to ask her than on my walk. I dialed her number.
“Hi, Edna.” I used my sweet Kenni Lowry voice. “It’s Sheriff Lowry.”
“Hi there.” Her voice wasn’t as happy to hear from me as I thought it should be. “I guess you’re calling ’bout the article.”
“Not so much the article, but the photo and how you got it.” It wasn’t against the law to take pictures, but there was no way she’d get a good shot of Mama without Mama’s permission, and I’d bet my life that she didn’t have it.
“I was on a walk and was just snapping pictures of our beautiful city,” she lied.
“You mean that you heard about Frank Von Lee and you knew I’d go see my mama. You followed me to my parents’ house to get the shot because you knew mama would open the door for me.” It all clicked. “Am I right?”
“There’s no law against taking photos.” She loved to use the law to get her out of sticky situations.
“We do have an unwritten moral law,” I reminded her. “Stay away from my investigation.”
“You mean to tell me that you are investigating your own mama, not Deputy Vincent?” She was a sneaky one.
“Goodbye, Edna.” I clicked off the phone.
Chapter Thirteen
By the time I’d walked back to the office it was almost time for me to go meet Mama at the matinee.
“People are going crazy around here.” Betty told me something I already knew. She’d been fielding calls all morning and avoiding answering any questions that could fuel the gossip more. “And the national news has gotten a hold of the murder too.”
“What?” There was something that we didn’t need. After all, we’d just gotten through a big scandal from the death of the only famous person from Cottonwood, author Beryle Stone.
“There were a couple of calls on the messaging machine from them celebrity television shows asking about Mr. Von Lee’s death. Then a couple follow-up calls after they’d gotten wind that it was a murder.” Her right brow cocked, the right corner of her lip following. She finished, “They said they’d be on their way today and wanted to know what time you were holding a press conference.”
“Press conference?” I asked.
Press conference? I noodled on the thought and got an immediate stomachache. I ran my hand over my ponytail and knew that I was in no shape to be seen on TV. No doubt they’d tear me to shreds if they did find out that my mama was the reason he was here and that she was really my only suspect at the moment. Though I wasn’t discounting Mundy.
“Yep.” Betty tapped away on her computer. “That means you better get on over to Tiny Tina’s and get your hair done, because they are coming whether you want them to or not.”
I looked at my watch. I was already going to be late to meet Mama at the matinee and I had to find out what she was going to tell me about Frank.
“There’s no time.” The idea of being on camera gnawed at my gut. “I’ve got to go check out a lead,” I lied. I didn’t want anyone to find out that I was meeting Mama secretly. “Duke, you stay here.” I flipped him a treat and headed out the door.
With Duke left behind at the department, I got into the Jeep, where Poppa was waiting on me.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“Like you and Finn, busy trying to solve a murder.” Poppa was frustrated and I could see why. “And I’m still running off any would-be criminals.”
“What?” I jerked and looked at him.
“You think that little snot-nosed brat kids don’t try to steal candy at Dixon’s or sneak into Luke Jones’s to see a movie? You better think again,” Poppa scoffed.
“Oh. I thought that you just poofed away and back when I needed you.” This whole gig with Poppa was strange.
“I’ll always be here when you need me, but Cottonwood still needs me too.” Poppa took pride in his new gig and I loved it. “After our earlier conversation, I put some more thought into the situation. I thought I’d keep my ghost eyes and ears open. Found out that I can still scare off any other crimes so you can focus on getting your mama cleared.”
“Poppa, the only way we’ve ever gotten crimes solved, now and before, has been together.” I reminded him how we’d always gone back and forth with ideas on different scenarios on how and why a crime was committed.
“I’m just not sure I can hang around and see the evidence pile up on her. I think it’s best I continue to keep the rest of the town safe while you focus on finding the real killer.” He was dead set on his reasoning and there was no way I was going to change his mind.
This time I could see that the investigation was so close to us that Poppa’s objectivity he’d always been proud of was skewed, along with mine.
“I understand that this doesn’t look good.” I turned the Jeep on and drove down the alley, stopping at the stop sign. “But we have to process all the evidence and prove that Mama didn’t kill anyone. You’ve always told me that solving a crime is like a mystery novel. The clues are there. We just have to pay attention to them to help solve the crime.”