Six Feet Under

by Tonya Kappes

  With a few keystrokes, I found a couple of the people on Facebook. They were a little older than in their class photo, but it was definitely them. I clicked on the messenger tab and viola. Their phone numbers were right there. “That was easy. Thank goodness for social media.”

  “Huh?” Poppa’s eyes narrowed.

  “This is like email.” I pointed to the blue messenger box. “Some people actually put their phone numbers in their profile and anyone can call them. This guy,” I pointed to the profile photo, “he’s this guy.” I pointed to the younger version of him in the class photo I’d printed at the library. “And his profile says he’s a chef.”

  “There weren’t very many people in the class.” Poppa bent down and looked at the class photo.

  “It’s some sort of exclusive, prestigious class. So Mundy must be good as a chef,” I said and typed in the phone number. “Hello, is this Guy Hall?” I questioned when someone answered.

  When he confirmed, I continued, “My name is Kenni Lowry. I’m the Sheriff in Cottonwood, Kentucky.”

  “You mean where Chef Von Lee was killed?” he questioned from the other end of the phone.

  “Yes. And we are going through Frank, er, Chef Von Lee’s students and we’ve come across someone you might know from your class.”

  “You’re talking about Mundy, right? What a tool.” There was obviously no love lost between them.

  “I see that Mundy made an impression on you too.”

  Duke jumped up from underneath my feet and ran to the back door. Finn was there and waved at me through the screen door. I waved him in.

  “He made that impression on everyone,” Guy said.

  I put my finger up to my mouth when Finn walked in. He had a brown sack with him.

  “Dinner,” he mouthed and sat it down on the kitchen table.

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and pushed the speaker button so Finn could hear.

  “Did you actually see any of the tension between Mundy and Frank?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Mundy was always telling Chef how he was doing things wrong. Chef was really good at ignoring him until Mundy got in his face about how to make country gravy of all things.” Guy laughed.

  “Country gravy?” I asked, making sure I’d heard right.

  “Yeah. Mundy really thought he was this great southern chef. It wasn’t until years later when Chef finally took out a restraining order on Mundy. I was there when it happened.” Now he was giving me some good info.

  “Where and when was this?” I asked and pushed all the papers I’d printed off from the library towards Finn to help clue him in on what was going on.

  “I was taking Chef’s master class and Mundy had scored a seat, which I don’t know how that happened. Chef told us about the Culinary Channel and how they were giving him his own show about southern foods. Mundy went nuts and that’s when the cops were called. The next class Chef told us that he had to put a restraining order on Mundy.” There was a pause. Finn and I looked at each other. “Mundy literally went crazy, saying he was the best southern chef and it was a joke.”

  “Guy, thank you for answering my questions. If I have any more, can I call you back?” I asked with my finger on the end button.

  “No problem. I’m more than happy to get that whacko behind bars.” The line went dead.

  “That was a bit of news.” Finn pulled out Chinese containers from the bag.

  “Today I went to the library and did a little digging.” I gestured to the papers he’d looked over. “This for sure points to Mundy as the killer. Not only does he have a motive of jealousy, but there was a restraining order against him.”

  Finn looked over the papers and I grabbed a couple of plates and forks. There were some chopsticks, but I’d never learned to use them.

  “Ms. Kim threw in some extra fortune cookies.” He looked up at me and winked. “She said I was going to need as much good fortune as I could get.”

  I rolled my eyes. Mrs. Kim was the owner of Kim’s Buffet and mother of my friend Gina. She acted like she didn’t like me, but deep down I knew she did.

  “With all this information, I’m definitely going to tell Mayor Ryland that Vivian Lowry is no longer a suspect. I know we already established that, but it’s not official. I want to make it official.” Finn scooted his chair next to mine and sat down. He put his arm around me. “I’ll do a stakeout at Mundy’s and drag him into the department for an interrogation tomorrow.”

  “That’s perfect.” I nuzzled my nose in his neck, sitting there in the comfort of his arms. Duke didn’t let us sit there for too long before he came over and dropped a ball at Finn’s feet.

  “Ahem,” There was a throat clearing from the corner. Without a shadow of a doubt, Finn was getting a little too close for Poppa’s comfort.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The smell of freshly brewing coffee was the first thing that woke me up. The second thing that woke me up: Mama.

  “Good morning, Mama,” I answered the phone and looked at the time.

  “You’re still in bed?” Mama asked.

  “It’s my day off.” Not that I really had a day off, but it was my usual day that I went in late to the office. After last night, I was certain Finn would get Mundy in the office, brought up on charges of murdering Frank Von Lee, and booked.

  Though it was only a little past seven a.m., it was past my normal six a.m. wake-up time.

  “Fiddle fart! Get up,” Mama yelled. “We’re celebrating.”

  I pulled the phone from my ear. Duke looked up from the foot of the bed and then slid his front paws off the edge, followed by his body. He pulled himself into a long stretch and let out a groan before he walked out of the room.

  “Did you see the paper?” she asked.

  “No. Why? What are we celebrating?” I wondered what’d happened.

  “I’m no longer a suspect. Mayor Ryland said in an interview that there’s another suspect in the case,” she informed me.

  “I’m up.” I flung the covers off me and swung my feet over the edge. A shiver of cold rushed up through my feet. I pushed myself up to stand. “I can’t celebrate. I’ve got some work to do.” I padded my way down to the kitchen and pushed the back door open for Duke to run out to do his morning business.

  “You just said that you were off today.” She used my words against me. Since when did Mama listen to me? “So get up and let’s go get your elevens done.”

  I put my finger up to my elevens.

  “Myrna told you about our conversation?” I asked.

  “Yep. And if you’re going to arrest them, then I want to be there.” Her voice escalated. “They ruined my face.”

  “You should’ve known better than to think legitimate Botox would only cost twenty-five dollars.” I opened my cabinet and retrieved a coffee cup. “I appreciate all your enthusiasm to shut them down, but I can’t drag you along. It’s a sheriff’s department matter. Don’t go back over there. I can’t just go in guns blazing. That’s not how investigations work.”

  Though I wished sometimes that they did. Cutting through all the red tape felt like it took way too long at times.

  “I really think you should take me. I can be your deputy on this one.” Mama was serious. “Deputize me.”

  Two days ago she wanted me to cuff her and now she wanted me to deputize her. Mama never ceased to shock me.

  “Not today, Mama.” I wasn’t about to put her in the middle of an investigation. “I’ll give you a call later.”

  “But...” Mama faltered. “Grab your umbrella. Rain’s a’comin’.”

  “Bye.” I hung up the phone and walked over to let Duke in. “Rain, my hinny,” I whispered and shut the door. There wasn’t a call for rain in the forecast for a week or so.

  I headed back down the hall and into my bedroom. There was no reason to hang
around here any longer when I needed to get my day started. I had a to-do list that had Danny Shane’s name right at the top. Even though we had good reason to believe Mundy was the killer, I still had unanswered questions about his behavior. Under his name on my list were the condos by the river to check out that Botox ring and then my baking class. Out of all of those things I was surprisingly most excited about the class.

  Five minutes later, I’d gotten my shower and pulled on a t-shirt and jeans.

  Poppa ghosted into my bedroom. “You need to get down to the department and do a timeline, not only to show that your mama didn’t kill Frank, but one for Mundy.”

  “I’ll do that after hours. I want to give Finn time to do his job and check Mundy out. So we are going to unofficially go see Danny Shane this morning.” I pulled a sweatshirt out of my drawer and tugged on my cowboy boots. “After that, I’ve got to head to Le Fork for cake class.”

  “Cake class?” Poppa obviously didn’t like that. “What about the condos? You need to get some kind of justice for your mama’s face.”

  “That’s on the list too,” I assured him.

  He disappeared. I was right behind him after I’d gotten Duke settled and called Mrs. Brown to remind her to check in on him throughout the day.

  The sun had faded behind a cloud on my way to the Jeep. I stopped and looked up, giving the air a little sniff. Maybe Mama was right. There was a salty rain smell that was similar to the smell before a big gully washer. I almost walked back inside to grab my rain boots, but the sun peeked out, pushing Mama’s observation aside. I was good at believing whatever came from Mama’s mouth. She had a way of doing that.

  I jumped in my Jeep and headed down Free Row toward the stop sign. The neighborhood was still asleep and all was calm for the time being. At the end of the street I took a left on Main Street going north to visit Danny Shane. The sun hid behind some really dark clouds. I flipped on WCKK just in time to hear the weather update that an unexpected rain shower had begun to move in on Cottonwood but was not expected to last long.

  “Spring showers bring May flowers,” I repeated Mama’s mantra as little dots of sprinkles appeared on the windshield.

  That wasn’t going to dampen my mood. I couldn’t help but smile seeing the line of customers waiting outside to get a seat at Ben’s as I drove past. It was about time he did well, even if it was because of a murder. When I was stopped by the stoplight, I loved seeing the Cottonwood Chronicle headline that “Ben’s Is Booming” along with a picture of Ben at the stove with a big smile on his face.

  Shane’s Construction had been around as long as I could remember. The Shane family ran the business and all three generations had been involved. I’d never ever had a complaint or even heard of any shoddy jobs completed by their company. Something else that I hadn’t heard was that Danny had recently taken over the company like Ben had said.

  Danny had always been the hardheaded one of his family. He was the only one who really stood up to the mayor and the council when he’d proposed to have the condos built on a plot of land overlooking the Kentucky River. The mayor wanted to keep Cottonwood small, which only hurt our economy where Danny saw the feature and the value of having condos on the river. It not only brought new residents to Cottonwood, but also a community of people who loved the river and started to invest for their retirement here, giving the economy a boost.

  The condos where Mama had said she’d gone to get her bad Botox fix. Shane Construction not only built the condos, they still owned the complex plus the land and benefited from the Home Owners Association fee. The thought that he might know about the Botox parties crossed my mind too.

  If he did, and if he really did have reason to get back at Ben, then Danny Shane wasn’t in his right frame of mind.

  “Sheriff.” Danny greeted me at the door of the aluminum building that was a temporary office for the new concrete two-story building they’d recently gotten approval from the council to build. “This doesn’t look like a personal visit.”

  He stepped out and greeted me halfway. The cowboy hat was pulled down on his forehead, making a shadow draw down his face. He had his red and black plaid shirt tucked into his tight blue jeans. The sun made his shadow look seven feet tall instead of his six-foot-six frame. A little intimidating.

  The grey clouds blanketed the once unblemished grass of the family’s three-hundred-acre dairy farm land. The sprinkle that’d fallen on the Jeep on Main Street had finally made its way out to the country. The dry dirt we were standing on would be a big old mud pile soon. Good for muddin’ around on four wheelers. I couldn’t help but think what Danny’s grandfather would say about him digging up their farm and putting that concrete building on it.

  His grandfather took pride in their cows. The dairy farm was still on the back one hundred acres and up and running. We were one of few counties that still had milk delivery. And it wasn’t cheap to have that fresh milk delivered. Jolee said the cost was nothing compared to the taste that made her recipes so good.

  “I’ve got a couple of questions for you.” I slammed the back door of the Wagoneer.

  “I’ll try to answer them.” He strolled a little closer, his boots crunching into the temporary gravel drive.

  I glanced up at the sky when I felt a drop of rain. “Looks like a gully washer’s coming.”

  “It’ll be good for the crops.” He dug his hands into his jean pockets and kept an eye on me.

  “How’s everything going, Danny?” I asked.

  “Construction business has been so busy. It’s hard to find good help.” He slid his eyes up to the darkening sky. “Do you want to come in out of the rain? I’ve got some coffee brewing.”

  “That’d be nice.” I offered a smile.

  Breaking bread was a great way to ease into a conversation and socialize. In this case coffee was going to have to do.

  I headed into the barn, which might seem silly to some. Not around these parts. Most barns on working farms were nicer than the houses the farmers lived in. Same with Danny’s. The floor was a nice poured concrete. The stalls were on the right and the offices were on the left. In Danny’s case, he had his dairy and construction office in his barn while his employees were in the other building.

  “Your mama and them doing all right?” Danny asked, offering the go-ahead to fix my own coffee from the coffee bar in his office.

  I grabbed a Styrofoam cup and poured a hot cup of coffee.

  “They’re fine.” I nodded, not sure what to say. “I guess you probably know I’m not here for pleasantries.” I used a stirrer to add creamer to my coffee. “I wanted to know what’s going on between you and Ben.” I turned around to face him.

  He was sitting in the chair behind his desk and gestured for me to sit down in the chair in front.

  “That so-called job of Ben’s was charity.”

  “Charity?” I asked and blew on the steaming coffee before I took a sip.

  “Ben Harrison is having a hard time paying the bills. He came to me with a sad sack story about how he needed to update the restaurant to make it look good for TV. He said that if he won…” Danny shook his head. “He didn’t even give credit to your mama.” His eyes looked under his brows at me. “Anyways, he said if he won, then he’d get the visibility he’d need to keep the diner open.”

  “He said that?” I went to Ben’s almost daily. Granted, it wasn’t packed, but there were always a handful of people in there when I’d go. He never mentioned that he needed money or was having problems.

  “Yeah. I was the one who was the sucker and gave him charity. I even donated the damn milk from my dairy cows for the fresh food for the days that critic was coming.” The chair squeaked when he leaned back, his coffee mug in his hands. “When I told Ben that we weren’t going to use the high-dollar bamboo beams he wanted, he went off his rocker.” Danny shook his head. “I had to remind him that I was doin
g this free of charge. That’s when he decided to fire me from a charitable job.”

  He hesitated and stared at me for a second.

  “From what I hear, his diner has been booming since they found that guy dead.” He shrugged.

  I decided to move on because I was going to have to check out this charity thing he was talking about.

  “What about Finn’s job?” I asked.

  “That was a paying job, but I’m so busy here that I just couldn’t hold up to my end of the deal. My guys are swamped. I dropped the ball. We don’t usually do residential, so I put him on the back burner.” His lips turned down. “I should’ve told him I couldn’t do it, but I hated to turn him down. That good ole southern manners thing.”

  “I get it.” I laughed.

  “With a mama like Viv, I know you do.” He winked. “I was glad to read in the paper that there’s another suspect in the famous guy’s death.”

  “Yeah.” I blinked a few times. “No one has been charged yet.”

  “I know your mama didn’t kill that critic. In fact, I’d just left her house with a special order of creamer she’d ordered. I was on my way over to The Tattered Cover Books and Inn to drop off some fresh milk to that chef Ben had hired.”

  “You were taking milk to Mundy?” I asked.

  “Yep.” His lips drew together. He got up and walked over to the filing cabinet. He pulled out a yellow piece of paper. “Your mama showed up here around four. I told her it would take a half hour or so to pull the freshest cream, so we made plans for me to drop it off at her house. I knew I needed to make a drop-off to Mundy and it was on my way.”

  He shut the file cabinet drawer back and walked over to me with the paper in his hand.

  “This is an order form for fresh creamer. We have to log the heifer number, the time of day, and the creaming process. We can’t pull too much milk out of our heifers at one time so we can produce the freshest milk, cream, butter,” he shrugged, “anything that’s made with the milk. Your mama insisted I get her the freshest we had and she’d pay top dollar.”